Socratesκατέβην χθὲς εἰς Πειραιᾶ μετὰ Γλαύκωνος τοῦ Ἀρίστωνος προσευξόμενός τε τῇ θεῷ καὶ ἅμα τὴν ἑορτὴν βουλόμενος θεάσασθαι τίνα τρόπον ποιήσουσιν ἅτε νῦν πρῶτον ἄγοντες. καλὴ μὲν οὖν μοι καὶ ἡ τῶν ἐπιχωρίων πομπὴ ἔδοξεν εἶναι, οὐ μέντοι ἧττον ἐφαίνετο πρέπειν ἣν οἱ Θρᾷκες ἔπεμπον. 327b προσευξάμενοι δὲ καὶ θεωρήσαντες ἀπῇμεν πρὸς τὸ ἄστυ. κατιδὼν οὖν πόρρωθεν ἡμᾶς οἴκαδε ὡρμημένους Πολέμαρχος ὁ Κεφάλου ἐκέλευσε δραμόντα τὸν παῖδα περιμεῖναί ἑ κελεῦσαι. καί μου ὄπισθεν ὁ παῖς λαβόμενος τοῦ ἱματίου, κελεύει ὑμᾶς, ἔφη, Πολέμαρχος περιμεῖναι. καὶ ἐγὼ μετεστράφην τε καὶ ἠρόμην ὅπου αὐτὸς εἴη. οὗτος, ἔφη, ὄπισθεν προσέρχεται· ἀλλὰ περιμένετε. ἀλλὰ περιμενοῦμεν, ἦ δʼ ὃς ὁ Γλαύκων. 327c
SocratesI went down to the Piraeus yesterday with Glaucon, son of Ariston, to offer my prayers to the goddess, and also because I wanted to see how they would conduct the festival, since this was the first time they were holding it. I thought the procession of the local people was a fine one, but the one the Thracians sent looked every bit as good. 327b When we had said our prayers and watched the show, we started back toward the city. Polemarchus, son of Cephalus, caught sight of us from a distance as we were setting off for home, and told his slave to run and ask us to wait for him. The slave caught hold of my cloak from behind and said, “Polemarchus wants you to wait.” I turned around and asked where Polemarchus himself was. “He’s coming up behind you,” he said. “Just wait.” “All right, we’ll wait,” said Glaucon. 327c
καὶ ὀλίγῳ ὕστερον ὅ τε Πολέμαρχος ἧκε καὶ Ἀδείμαντος ὁ τοῦ Γλαύκωνος ἀδελφὸς καὶ Νικήρατος ὁ Νικίου καὶ ἄλλοι τινὲς ὡς ἀπὸ τῆς πομπῆς.
ὁ οὖν Πολέμαρχος ἔφη· ὦ Σώκρατες, δοκεῖτέ μοι πρὸς ἄστυ ὡρμῆσθαι ὡς ἀπιόντες.
οὐ γὰρ κακῶς δοξάζεις, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ.
ὁρᾷς οὖν ἡμᾶς, ἔφη, ὅσοι ἐσμέν;
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ἢ τοίνυν τούτων, ἔφη, κρείττους γένεσθε ἢ μένετʼ αὐτοῦ.
οὐκοῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἔτι ἓν λείπεται, τὸ ἢν πείσωμεν ὑμᾶς ὡς χρὴ ἡμᾶς ἀφεῖναι;
A little later Polemarchus arrived, with Adeimantus, Glaucon’s brother, Niceratus, son of Nicias, and a few others, apparently on their way from the procession.
Polemarchus said, “Socrates, it looks to me as if you two are off to town and leaving us.”
“Not a bad guess,” I said.
“Well, do you see how many of us there are?” he said.
“Of course.”
“Then either prove yourselves stronger than all these,” he said, “or stay here.”
“Isn’t there one other possibility,” I said: “that we persuade you to let us go?”
ἦ καὶ δύναισθʼ ἄν, ἦ δʼ ὅς, πεῖσαι μὴ ἀκούοντας;
οὐδαμῶς, ἔφη ὁ Γλαύκων.
ὡς τοίνυν μὴ ἀκουσομένων, οὕτω διανοεῖσθε.
καὶ ὁ Ἀδείμαντος, ἆρά γε, ἦ δʼ ὅς, οὐδʼ ἴστε ὅτι λαμπὰς ἔσται πρὸς ἑσπέραν ἀφʼ ἵππων τῇ θεῷ;
ἀφʼ ἵππων; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· καινόν γε τοῦτο. λαμπάδια ἔχοντες διαδώσουσιν ἀλλήλοις ἁμιλλώμενοι τοῖς ἵπποις; ἢ πῶς λέγεις;
“But could you persuade people who won’t listen?” he said.
“Certainly not,” said Glaucon.
“Then you’d better assume we won’t be listening.”
And Adeimantus said, “Don’t you even know that there’s going to be a torch race on horseback this evening, for the goddess?”
“On horseback?” I said. “That’s something new. Will they carry torches and hand them on to one another as they race their horses? Or what do you mean?”
οὕτως, ἔφη ὁ Πολέμαρχος. καὶ πρός γε παννυχίδα ποιήσουσιν, ἣν ἄξιον θεάσασθαι· ἐξαναστησόμεθα γὰρ μετὰ τὸ δεῖπνον καὶ τὴν παννυχίδα θεασόμεθα. καὶ συνεσόμεθά τε πολλοῖς τῶν νέων αὐτόθι καὶ διαλεξόμεθα. ἀλλὰ μένετε 328b καὶ μὴ ἄλλως ποιεῖτε.
καὶ ὁ Γλαύκων, ἔοικεν, ἔφη, μενετέον εἶναι.
ἀλλʼ εἰ δοκεῖ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὕτω χρὴ ποιεῖν.
“Just that,” said Polemarchus. “And on top of that they’ll hold an all-night festival that’s worth seeing. We’ll get up after dinner and go and watch it. We’ll meet lots of the young men there and have some conversation. So stay, 328b and don’t say no.”
And Glaucon said, “It looks as though we’ll have to stay.”
“Well, if you think so,” I said, “that’s what we should do.”
ἦιμεν οὖν οἴκαδε εἰς τοῦ Πολεμάρχου, καὶ Λυσίαν τε αὐτόθι κατελάβομεν καὶ Εὐθύδημον, τοὺς τοῦ Πολεμάρχου ἀδελφούς, καὶ δὴ καὶ Θρασύμαχον τὸν Καλχηδόνιον καὶ Χαρμαντίδην τὸν Παιανιᾶ καὶ Κλειτοφῶντα τὸν Ἀριστωνύμου· ἦν δʼ ἔνδον καὶ ὁ πατὴρ ὁ τοῦ Πολεμάρχου Κέφαλος. καὶ μάλα πρεσβύτης μοι ἔδοξεν εἶναι· διὰ χρόνου γὰρ καὶ 328c ἑωράκη αὐτόν. καθῆστο δὲ ἐστεφανωμένος ἐπί τινος προσκεφαλαίου τε καὶ δίφρου· τεθυκὼς γὰρ ἐτύγχανεν ἐν τῇ αὐλῇ. ἐκαθεζόμεθα οὖν παρʼ αὐτόν· ἔκειντο γὰρ δίφροι τινὲς αὐτόθι κύκλῳ.
So we went to Polemarchus’ house, and there we found Lysias and Euthydemus, Polemarchus’ brothers, and also Thrasymachus of Chalcedon, Charmantides of Paeania, and Clitophon, son of Aristonymus. Polemarchus’ father Cephalus was at home too. He looked very old to me, since it had been a long time since 328c I’d seen him. He was sitting on a cushioned chair, wearing a garland, because he had just been offering a sacrifice in the courtyard. So we sat down beside him, since there were some chairs set out there in a circle.
Cephalus on old age and wealth
At Polemarchus' house, old Cephalus tells Socrates that wealth helps a decent man face death with a clear conscience.
εὐθὺς οὖν με ἰδὼν ὁ Κέφαλος ἠσπάζετό τε καὶ εἶπεν· ὦ Σώκρατες, οὐ δὲ θαμίζεις ἡμῖν καταβαίνων εἰς τὸν Πειραιᾶ. χρῆν μέντοι. εἰ μὲν γὰρ ἐγὼ ἔτι ἐν δυνάμει ἦ τοῦ ῥᾳδίως πορεύεσθαι πρὸς τὸ ἄστυ, οὐδὲν ἂν σὲ ἔδει δεῦρο 328d ἰέναι, ἀλλʼ ἡμεῖς ἂν παρὰ σὲ ᾖμεν· νῦν δέ σε χρὴ πυκνότερον δεῦρο ἰέναι. ὡς εὖ ἴσθι ὅτι ἔμοιγε ὅσον αἱ ἄλλαι αἱ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἡδοναὶ ἀπομαραίνονται, τοσοῦτον αὔξονται αἱ περὶ τοὺς λόγους ἐπιθυμίαι τε καὶ ἡδοναί. μὴ οὖν ἄλλως ποίει, ἀλλὰ τοῖσδέ τε τοῖς νεανίσκοις σύνισθι καὶ δεῦρο παρʼ ἡμᾶς φοίτα ὡς παρὰ φίλους τε καὶ πάνυ οἰκείους.
As soon as Cephalus saw me he greeted me and said, “Socrates, you don’t often come down to the Piraeus to see us. You really should. If I still had the strength to walk up to town easily, there’d be no need for you to come here; 328d we would come to you. But as things are, you ought to come here more often. I can tell you that for me, as the other pleasures, the bodily ones, wither away, my desire for conversation and my pleasure in it grow in equal measure. So don’t say no. Spend time with these young men, and come and visit us here regularly, as you would friends who are very close to you.”
καὶ μήν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Κέφαλε, χαίρω γε διαλεγόμενος 328e τοῖς σφόδρα πρεσβύταις· δοκεῖ γάρ μοι χρῆναι παρʼ αὐτῶν πυνθάνεσθαι, ὥσπερ τινὰ ὁδὸν προεληλυθότων ἣν καὶ ἡμᾶς ἴσως δεήσει πορεύεσθαι, ποία τίς ἐστιν, τραχεῖα καὶ χαλεπή, ἢ ῥᾳδία καὶ εὔπορος. καὶ δὴ καὶ σοῦ ἡδέως ἂν πυθοίμην ὅτι σοι φαίνεται τοῦτο, ἐπειδὴ ἐνταῦθα ἤδη εἶ τῆς ἡλικίας ὃ δὴ ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ φασιν εἶναι οἱ ποιηταί, πότερον χαλεπὸν τοῦ βίου, ἢ πῶς σὺ αὐτὸ ἐξαγγέλλεις.
“Well, Cephalus,” I said, “I really do enjoy talking 328e with the very old. I think we ought to learn from them, since they’ve gone ahead of us down a road that we too will probably have to travel, what kind of road it is—rough and hard, or easy and smooth. And I’d especially like to hear from you how it looks to you, since you’ve now reached the time of life the poets call ‘the threshold of old age.’ Is it a hard part of life, or how would you describe it?”
ἐγώ σοι, ἔφη, νὴ τὸν Δία ἐρῶ, ὦ Σώκρατες, οἷόν γέ μοι φαίνεται. πολλάκις γὰρ συνερχόμεθά τινες εἰς ταὐτὸν παραπλησίαν ἡλικίαν ἔχοντες, διασῴζοντες τὴν παλαιὰν παροιμίαν· οἱ οὖν πλεῖστοι ἡμῶν ὀλοφύρονται συνιόντες, τὰς ἐν τῇ νεότητι ἡδονὰς ποθοῦντες καὶ ἀναμιμνῃσκόμενοι περί τε τἀφροδίσια καὶ περὶ πότους τε καὶ εὐωχίας καὶ ἄλλʼ ἄττα ἃ τῶν τοιούτων ἔχεται, καὶ ἀγανακτοῦσιν ὡς μεγάλων τινῶν ἀπεστερημένοι καὶ τότε μὲν εὖ ζῶντες, νῦν δὲ οὐδὲ ζῶντες. 329b ἔνιοι δὲ καὶ τὰς τῶν οἰκείων προπηλακίσεις τοῦ γήρως ὀδύρονται, καὶ ἐπὶ τούτῳ δὴ τὸ γῆρας ὑμνοῦσιν ὅσων κακῶν σφίσιν αἴτιον. ἐμοὶ δὲ δοκοῦσιν, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὗτοι οὐ τὸ αἴτιον αἰτιᾶσθαι. εἰ γὰρ ἦν τοῦτʼ αἴτιον, κἂν ἐγὼ τὰ αὐτὰ ταῦτα ἐπεπόνθη, ἕνεκά γε γήρως, καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι πάντες ὅσοι ἐνταῦθα ἦλθον ἡλικίας.
“By Zeus, Socrates,” he said, “I’ll tell you just how it seems to me. A few of us who are about the same age often get together, keeping up the old proverb. When we meet, most of us complain. They long for the pleasures of their youth and reminisce about sex and drinking and feasts and everything that goes with them, and they get upset, as if they’d been robbed of something important—back then they were living well, and now they’re not even alive. 329b Some also lament how their families mistreat them in their old age, and on that account they recite a litany of all the evils old age causes them. But in my view, Socrates, these men are blaming the wrong thing. If old age were to blame, I’d have had the same experiences too, as far as old age goes, and so would everyone else who has reached these years.
νῦν δʼ ἔγωγε ἤδη ἐντετύχηκα οὐχ οὕτως ἔχουσιν καὶ ἄλλοις, καὶ δὴ καὶ Σοφοκλεῖ ποτε τῷ ποιητῇ παρεγενόμην ἐρωτωμένῳ ὑπό τινος· “πῶς,” ἔφη, 329c “ὦ Σοφόκλεις, ἔχεις πρὸς τἀφροδίσια; ἔτι οἷός τε εἶ γυναικὶ συγγίγνεσθαι”; καὶ ὅς, “εὐφήμει,” ἔφη, “ὦ ἄνθρωπε· ἁσμενέστατα μέντοι αὐτὸ ἀπέφυγον, ὥσπερ λυττῶντά τινα καὶ ἄγριον δεσπότην ἀποδράς.” εὖ οὖν μοι καὶ τότε ἔδοξεν ἐκεῖνος εἰπεῖν, καὶ νῦν οὐχ ἧττον. παντάπασι γὰρ τῶν γε τοιούτων ἐν τῷ γήρᾳ πολλὴ εἰρήνη γίγνεται καὶ ἐλευθερία· ἐπειδὰν αἱ ἐπιθυμίαι παύσωνται κατατείνουσαι καὶ χαλάσωσιν, παντάπασιν τὸ τοῦ Σοφοκλέους γίγνεται, 329d δεσποτῶν πάνυ πολλῶν ἐστι καὶ μαινομένων ἀπηλλάχθαι. ἀλλὰ καὶ τούτων πέρι καὶ τῶν γε πρὸς τοὺς οἰκείους μία τις αἰτία ἐστίν, οὐ τὸ γῆρας, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἀλλʼ ὁ τρόπος τῶν ἀνθρώπων.
“As it is, I’ve met others who don’t feel this way. In particular, I was once with the poet Sophocles when someone asked him, ‘Sophocles,’ he said, 329c ‘how are you when it comes to sex? Can you still make love to a woman?’ And he said, ‘Hush, man! I’m very glad to have escaped it, as if I’d run away from a raging, savage master.’ I thought he spoke well then, and I think so no less now. For in old age there comes a great peace and freedom from such things altogether. When the desires stop straining and relax, what Sophocles said comes completely true: 329d you’re rid of a great many masters, and mad ones at that. But as regards these things, and our relations with our families too, there’s one single cause, Socrates—not old age, but people’s character.
ἂν μὲν γὰρ κόσμιοι καὶ εὔκολοι ὦσιν, καὶ τὸ γῆρας μετρίως ἐστὶν ἐπίπονον· εἰ δὲ μή, καὶ γῆρας, ὦ Σώκρατες, καὶ νεότης χαλεπὴ τῷ τοιούτῳ συμβαίνει.
“If they’re orderly and good-tempered, even old age is only moderately burdensome. If not, Socrates, then both old age and youth turn out hard for someone like that.”
καὶ ἐγὼ ἀγασθεὶς αὐτοῦ εἰπόντος ταῦτα, βουλόμενος ἔτι 329e λέγειν αὐτὸν ἐκίνουν καὶ εἶπον· ὦ Κέφαλε, οἶμαί σου τοὺς πολλούς, ὅταν ταῦτα λέγῃς, οὐκ ἀποδέχεσθαι ἀλλʼ ἡγεῖσθαί σε ῥᾳδίως τὸ γῆρας φέρειν οὐ διὰ τὸν τρόπον ἀλλὰ διὰ τὸ πολλὴν οὐσίαν κεκτῆσθαι· τοῖς γὰρ πλουσίοις πολλὰ παραμύθιά φασιν εἶναι.
I admired him for saying this, and wanting him to keep 329e talking, I prodded him and said, “Cephalus, I imagine that when you say this, most people don’t accept it. They think you bear old age easily not because of your character but because you’ve acquired a great deal of wealth. The rich, they say, have many consolations.”
ἀληθῆ, ἔφη, λέγεις· οὐ γὰρ ἀποδέχονται. καὶ λέγουσι μέν τι, οὐ μέντοι γε ὅσον οἴονται· ἀλλὰ τὸ τοῦ Θεμιστοκλέους εὖ ἔχει, ὃς τῷ Σεριφίῳ λοιδορουμένῳ καὶ λέγοντι 330a ὅτι οὐ διʼ αὑτὸν ἀλλὰ διὰ τὴν πόλιν εὐδοκιμοῖ, ἀπεκρίνατο ὅτι οὔτʼ ἂν αὐτὸς Σερίφιος ὢν ὀνομαστὸς ἐγένετο οὔτʼ ἐκεῖνος Ἀθηναῖος. καὶ τοῖς δὴ μὴ πλουσίοις, χαλεπῶς δὲ τὸ γῆρας φέρουσιν, εὖ ἔχει ὁ αὐτὸς λόγος, ὅτι οὔτʼ ἂν ὁ ἐπιεικὴς πάνυ τι ῥᾳδίως γῆρας μετὰ πενίας ἐνέγκοι οὔθʼ ὁ μὴ ἐπιεικὴς πλουτήσας εὔκολός ποτʼ ἂν ἑαυτῷ γένοιτο.
“That’s true,” he said. “They don’t accept it. And they have a point, though not as much of one as they think. What Themistocles said fits well here. When a man from Seriphus was abusing him and saying 330a that his fame was due not to himself but to his city, he answered that he wouldn’t have become famous if he’d been a Seriphian, and neither would the other man if he’d been an Athenian. The same principle applies well to people who aren’t rich and find old age hard. A decent man wouldn’t find old age altogether easy to bear if he were poor, but an indecent one, even if he became rich, would never be at peace with himself.”
πότερον δέ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Κέφαλε, ὧν κέκτησαι τὰ πλείω παρέλαβες ἢ ἐπεκτήσω; 330b
ποῖʼ ἐπεκτησάμην, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες; μέσος τις γέγονα χρηματιστὴς τοῦ τε πάππου καὶ τοῦ πατρός. ὁ μὲν γὰρ πάππος τε καὶ ὁμώνυμος ἐμοὶ σχεδόν τι ὅσην ἐγὼ νῦν οὐσίαν κέκτημαι παραλαβὼν πολλάκις τοσαύτην ἐποίησεν, Λυσανίας δὲ ὁ πατὴρ ἔτι ἐλάττω αὐτὴν ἐποίησε τῆς νῦν οὔσης· ἐγὼ δὲ ἀγαπῶ ἐὰν μὴ ἐλάττω καταλίπω τούτοισιν, ἀλλὰ βραχεῖ γέ τινι πλείω ἢ παρέλαβον.
“Cephalus,” I said, “did you inherit most of what you own, or did you make it yourself?” 330b
“Make it, Socrates?” he said. “As a moneymaker I’ve come out somewhere between my grandfather and my father. My grandfather, whose name I share, inherited about as much property as I own now and multiplied it many times over, while my father Lysanias reduced it to even less than it is now. I’m content if I leave these boys not less, but a little more than I inherited.”
οὗ τοι ἕνεκα ἠρόμην, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὅτι μοι ἔδοξας οὐ σφόδρα 330c ἀγαπᾶν τὰ χρήματα, τοῦτο δὲ ποιοῦσιν ὡς τὸ πολὺ οἳ ἂν μὴ αὐτοὶ κτήσωνται· οἱ δὲ κτησάμενοι διπλῇ ἢ οἱ ἄλλοι ἀσπάζονται αὐτά. ὥσπερ γὰρ οἱ ποιηταὶ τὰ αὑτῶν ποιήματα καὶ οἱ πατέρες τοὺς παῖδας ἀγαπῶσιν, ταύτῃ τε δὴ καὶ οἱ χρηματισάμενοι περὶ τὰ χρήματα σπουδάζουσιν ὡς ἔργον ἑαυτῶν, καὶ κατὰ τὴν χρείαν ᾗπερ οἱ ἄλλοι. χαλεποὶ οὖν καὶ συγγενέσθαι εἰσίν, οὐδὲν ἐθέλοντες ἐπαινεῖν ἀλλʼ ἢ τὸν πλοῦτον.
ἀληθῆ, ἔφη, λέγεις. 330d
“The reason I asked,” I said, “is that you didn’t seem to me especially 330c attached to money. That’s usually the way with people who didn’t make it themselves. Those who did make it love it twice as much as anyone else. Just as poets love their own poems and fathers their children, so people who have made money care about it as their own work, as well as for its usefulness, as others do. That makes them hard even to be around: they won’t praise anything but wealth.”
“That’s true,” he said. 330d
πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ. ἀλλά μοι ἔτι τοσόνδε εἰπέ· τί μέγιστον οἴει ἀγαθὸν ἀπολελαυκέναι τοῦ πολλὴν οὐσίαν κεκτῆσθαι;
“It certainly is,” I said. “But tell me one more thing. What do you think is the greatest good you’ve enjoyed from owning great wealth?”
ὅ, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ἴσως οὐκ ἂν πολλοὺς πείσαιμι λέγων. εὖ γὰρ ἴσθι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὅτι, ἐπειδάν τις ἐγγὺς ᾖ τοῦ οἴεσθαι τελευτήσειν, εἰσέρχεται αὐτῷ δέος καὶ φροντὶς περὶ ὧν ἔμπροσθεν οὐκ εἰσῄει. οἵ τε γὰρ λεγόμενοι μῦθοι περὶ τῶν ἐν Ἅιδου, ὡς τὸν ἐνθάδε ἀδικήσαντα δεῖ ἐκεῖ διδόναι 330e δίκην, καταγελώμενοι τέως, τότε δὴ στρέφουσιν αὐτοῦ τὴν ψυχὴν μὴ ἀληθεῖς ὦσιν· καὶ αὐτός—ἤτοι ὑπὸ τῆς τοῦ γήρως ἀσθενείας ἢ καὶ ὥσπερ ἤδη ἐγγυτέρω ὢν τῶν ἐκεῖ μᾶλλόν τι καθορᾷ αὐτά—ὑποψίας δʼ οὖν καὶ δείματος μεστὸς γίγνεται καὶ ἀναλογίζεται ἤδη καὶ σκοπεῖ εἴ τινά τι ἠδίκησεν.
“Something,” he said, “that I probably couldn’t persuade many people of if I said it. You should know, Socrates,” he said, “that when a man comes close to thinking he’s going to die, fear and worry come over him about things that never troubled him before. The stories told about what happens in Hades—that someone who has done wrong here must pay 330e the penalty there—which he used to laugh at, now torment his soul with the fear that they might be true. And he himself—whether because of the weakness of old age, or because he’s closer now to what’s there and sees it more clearly—at any rate he’s filled with suspicion and dread, and begins to reckon up and examine whether he has wronged anyone.
ὁ μὲν οὖν εὑρίσκων ἑαυτοῦ ἐν τῷ βίῳ πολλὰ ἀδικήματα καὶ ἐκ τῶν ὕπνων, ὥσπερ οἱ παῖδες, θαμὰ ἐγειρόμενος δειμαίνει 331a καὶ ζῇ μετὰ κακῆς ἐλπίδος· τῷ δὲ μηδὲν ἑαυτῷ ἄδικον συνειδότι ἡδεῖα ἐλπὶς ἀεὶ πάρεστι καὶ ἀγαθὴ “γηροτρόφος ”, ὡς καὶ Πίνδαρος λέγει. χαριέντως γάρ τοι, ὦ Σώκρατες, τοῦτʼ ἐκεῖνος εἶπεν, ὅτι ὃς ἂν δικαίως καὶ ὁσίως τὸν βίον διαγάγῃ, γλυκεῖά οἱ καρδίαν ἀτάλλοισα γηροτρόφος συναορεῖ ἐλπὶς ἃ μάλιστα θνατῶν πολύστροφον γνώμαν κυβερνᾷ. εὖ οὖν λέγει θαυμαστῶς ὡς σφόδρα. πρὸς δὴ τοῦτʼ ἔγωγε τίθημι τὴν τῶν χρημάτων κτῆσιν πλείστου ἀξίαν εἶναι, οὔ 331b τι παντὶ ἀνδρὶ ἀλλὰ τῷ ἐπιεικεῖ καὶ κοσμίῳ.
“The man who finds many wrongs in his life wakes up often from his sleep in terror, like children, 331a and lives with bad expectations. But the man who knows of no wrong he’s done always has sweet hope beside him, a good ‘nurse of old age,’ as Pindar puts it. He said it beautifully, Socrates: whoever lives his life justly and piously, ‘sweet hope goes with him, cherishing his heart, the nurse of his old age—hope, which most of all steers the twisting minds of mortals.’ That’s wonderfully well said. And it’s with this in view that I count owning money most valuable—not 331b for every man, but for one who is decent and orderly.
τὸ γὰρ μηδὲ ἄκοντά τινα ἐξαπατῆσαι ἢ ψεύσασθαι, μηδʼ αὖ ὀφείλοντα ἢ θεῷ θυσίας τινὰς ἢ ἀνθρώπῳ χρήματα ἔπειτα ἐκεῖσε ἀπιέναι δεδιότα, μέγα μέρος εἰς τοῦτο ἡ τῶν χρημάτων κτῆσις συμβάλλεται. ἔχει δὲ καὶ ἄλλας χρείας πολλάς· ἀλλὰ ἕν γε ἀνθʼ ἑνὸς οὐκ ἐλάχιστον ἔγωγε θείην ἂν εἰς τοῦτο ἀνδρὶ νοῦν ἔχοντι, ὦ Σώκρατες, πλοῦτον χρησιμώτατον εἶναι. 331c
“Not cheating or lying to anyone, even unintentionally, and not having to depart for the other world afraid because you still owe sacrifices to a god or money to a person—the possession of money contributes a great deal to that. It has many other uses too. But weighing one thing against another, I’d put this down as not the least of the ways wealth is most useful to a man of sense, Socrates.” 331c
Justice as paying what you owe
Polemarchus defines justice as helping friends and harming enemies, and Socrates refutes him.
παγκάλως, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, λέγεις, ὦ Κέφαλε. τοῦτο δʼ αὐτό, τὴν δικαιοσύνην, πότερα τὴν ἀλήθειαν αὐτὸ φήσομεν εἶναι ἁπλῶς οὕτως καὶ τὸ ἀποδιδόναι ἄν τίς τι παρά του λάβῃ, ἢ καὶ αὐτὰ ταῦτα ἔστιν ἐνίοτε μὲν δικαίως, ἐνίοτε δὲ ἀδίκως ποιεῖν; οἷον τοιόνδε λέγω· πᾶς ἄν που εἴποι, εἴ τις λάβοι παρὰ φίλου ἀνδρὸς σωφρονοῦντος ὅπλα, εἰ μανεὶς ἀπαιτοῖ, ὅτι οὔτε χρὴ τὰ τοιαῦτα ἀποδιδόναι, οὔτε δίκαιος ἂν εἴη ὁ ἀποδιδούς, οὐδʼ αὖ πρὸς τὸν οὕτως ἔχοντα πάντα ἐθέλων τἀληθῆ λέγειν. 331d
ὀρθῶς, ἔφη, λέγεις.
“Beautifully put, Cephalus,” I said. “But this very thing, justice—are we to say it’s simply telling the truth and giving back whatever you’ve received from someone? Or is it sometimes just and sometimes unjust to do these very things? Here’s the kind of case I mean. Surely everyone would agree that if you took weapons from a friend when he was in his right mind, and he went mad and asked for them back, you shouldn’t return them, and whoever returned them wouldn’t be just—nor would someone who was willing to tell the whole truth to a man in that state.” 331d
“You’re right,” he said.
οὐκ ἄρα οὗτος ὅρος ἐστὶν δικαιοσύνης, ἀληθῆ τε λέγειν καὶ ἃ ἂν λάβῃ τις ἀποδιδόναι.
πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὑπολαβὼν ὁ Πολέμαρχος, εἴπερ γέ τι χρὴ Σιμωνίδῃ πείθεσθαι.
καὶ μέντοι, ἔφη ὁ Κέφαλος, καὶ παραδίδωμι ὑμῖν τὸν λόγον· δεῖ γάρ με ἤδη τῶν ἱερῶν ἐπιμεληθῆναι.
οὐκοῦν, ἔφη, ἐγώ, ὁ Πολέμαρχος, τῶν γε σῶν κληρονόμος;
πάνυ γε, ἦ δʼ ὃς γελάσας, καὶ ἅμα ᾔει πρὸς τὰ ἱερά. 331e
“Then this isn’t the definition of justice: telling the truth and giving back what you’ve received.”
“Yes, it is, Socrates,” said Polemarchus, breaking in, “if we’re to believe Simonides at all.”
“Well, in any case,” said Cephalus, “I’m handing the argument over to you. It’s time for me to see to the sacrifices.”
“So I’m your heir, am I?” said Polemarchus.
“Certainly,” he said with a laugh, and went off to the sacrifices. 331e
λέγε δή, εἶπον ἐγώ, σὺ ὁ τοῦ λόγου κληρονόμος, τί φῂς τὸν Σιμωνίδην λέγοντα ὀρθῶς λέγειν περὶ δικαιοσύνης;
ὅτι, ἦ δʼ ὅς, τὸ τὰ ὀφειλόμενα ἑκάστῳ ἀποδιδόναι δίκαιόν ἐστι· τοῦτο λέγων δοκεῖ ἔμοιγε καλῶς λέγειν.
“Tell me, then,” I said, “you, the heir of the argument: what is it that Simonides says about justice that you think is right?”
“That it’s just to give back to each person what is owed to him,” he said. “In saying that, I think he speaks well.”
ἀλλὰ μέντοι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, Σιμωνίδῃ γε οὐ ῥᾴδιον ἀπιστεῖν—σοφὸς γὰρ καὶ θεῖος ἀνήρ—τοῦτο μέντοι ὅτι ποτὲ λέγει, σὺ μέν, ὦ Πολέμαρχε, ἴσως γιγνώσκεις, ἐγὼ δὲ ἀγνοῶ· δῆλον γὰρ ὅτι οὐ τοῦτο λέγει, ὅπερ ἄρτι ἐλέγομεν, τό τινος παρακαταθεμένου τι ὁτῳοῦν μὴ σωφρόνως ἀπαιτοῦντι 332a ἀποδιδόναι. καίτοι γε ὀφειλόμενόν πού ἐστιν τοῦτο ὃ παρακατέθετο· ἦ γάρ;
ναί.
ἀποδοτέον δέ γε οὐδʼ ὁπωστιοῦν τότε ὁπότε τις μὴ σωφρόνως ἀπαιτοῖ;
ἀληθῆ, ἦ δʼ ὅς.
“Well, it isn’t easy to disbelieve Simonides,” I said—“he’s a wise and godlike man. But what on earth he means by this, Polemarchus, you may know; I don’t. Clearly he doesn’t mean what we were just talking about: that when someone has left something in your keeping and asks for it back when he’s not in his right mind, you 332a return it. And yet what he left in your keeping is owed to him, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s not to be returned under any circumstances when the person asking for it isn’t in his right mind?”
“True,” he said.
ἄλλο δή τι ἢ τὸ τοιοῦτον, ὡς ἔοικεν, λέγει Σιμωνίδης τὸ τὰ ὀφειλόμενα δίκαιον εἶναι ἀποδιδόναι.
ἄλλο μέντοι νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη· τοῖς γὰρ φίλοις οἴεται ὀφείλειν τοὺς φίλους ἀγαθὸν μέν τι δρᾶν, κακὸν δὲ μηδέν.
μανθάνω, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ—ὅτι οὐ τὰ ὀφειλόμενα ἀποδίδωσιν ὃς ἄν τῳ χρυσίον ἀποδῷ παρακαταθεμένῳ, ἐάνπερ ἡ ἀπόδοσις 332b καὶ ἡ λῆψις βλαβερὰ γίγνηται, φίλοι δὲ ὦσιν ὅ τε ἀπολαμβάνων καὶ ὁ ἀποδιδούς—οὐχ οὕτω λέγειν φῂς τὸν Σιμωνίδην;
πάνυ μὲν οὖν.
τί δέ; τοῖς ἐχθροῖς ἀποδοτέον ὅτι ἂν τύχῃ ὀφειλόμενον;
“Then it seems Simonides means something different when he says it’s just to give back what is owed.”
“Something different, by Zeus,” he said. “He thinks friends owe it to friends to do them some good, and nothing bad.”
“I understand,” I said. “A man isn’t giving back what is owed if he returns gold to someone who deposited it with him, when the returning 332b and receiving turn out to be harmful and the one who receives and the one who returns are friends. Isn’t that what you say Simonides means?”
“Certainly.”
“What about enemies? Should we give them back whatever we happen to owe them?”
παντάπασι μὲν οὖν, ἔφη, ὅ γε ὀφείλεται αὐτοῖς, ὀφείλεται δέ γε οἶμαι παρά γε τοῦ ἐχθροῦ τῷ ἐχθρῷ ὅπερ καὶ προσήκει, κακόν τι.
ἠινίξατο ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὁ Σιμωνίδης ποιητικῶς 332c τὸ δίκαιον ὃ εἴη. διενοεῖτο μὲν γάρ, ὡς φαίνεται, ὅτι τοῦτʼ εἴη δίκαιον, τὸ προσῆκον ἑκάστῳ ἀποδιδόναι, τοῦτο δὲ ὠνόμασεν ὀφειλόμενον.
ἀλλὰ τί οἴει; ἔφη.
“Absolutely,” he said, “what is owed to them. And what an enemy owes an enemy, I think, is just what’s fitting: something bad.”
“So it seems,” I said, “that Simonides was speaking in riddles, the way poets do, 332c about what justice is. What he had in mind, apparently, was that justice is giving each person what is fitting for him, and he called this ‘what is owed.’”
“Well, what do you think?” he said.
ὦ πρὸς Διός, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, εἰ οὖν τις αὐτὸν ἤρετο· “ὦ Σιμωνίδη, ἡ τίσιν οὖν τί ἀποδιδοῦσα ὀφειλόμενον καὶ προσῆκον τέχνη ἰατρικὴ καλεῖται;” τί ἂν οἴει ἡμῖν αὐτὸν ἀποκρίνασθαι;
δῆλον ὅτι, ἔφη, ἡ σώμασιν φάρμακά τε καὶ σιτία καὶ ποτά.
ἡ δὲ τίσιν τί ἀποδιδοῦσα ὀφειλόμενον καὶ προσῆκον τέχνη μαγειρικὴ καλεῖται; 332d
ἡ τοῖς ὄψοις τὰ ἡδύσματα.
εἶεν· ἡ οὖν δὴ τίσιν τί ἀποδιδοῦσα τέχνη δικαιοσύνη ἂν καλοῖτο;
“By Zeus,” I said, “suppose someone had asked him, ‘Simonides, the craft called medicine gives what, owed and fitting, to what?’ What do you think he’d have answered us?”
“Obviously,” he said, “it’s the one that gives drugs, food and drink to bodies.”
“And the craft called cookery gives what, owed and fitting, to what?” 332d
“The one that gives seasonings to dishes.”
“Very well. Then the craft that would be called justice gives what to whom?”
εἰ μέν τι, ἔφη, δεῖ ἀκολουθεῖν, ὦ Σώκρατες, τοῖς ἔμπροσθεν εἰρημένοις, ἡ τοῖς φίλοις τε καὶ ἐχθροῖς ὠφελίας τε καὶ βλάβας ἀποδιδοῦσα.
τὸ τοὺς φίλους ἄρα εὖ ποιεῖν καὶ τοὺς ἐχθροὺς κακῶς δικαιοσύνην λέγει;
δοκεῖ μοι.
τίς οὖν δυνατώτατος κάμνοντας φίλους εὖ ποιεῖν καὶ ἐχθροὺς κακῶς πρὸς νόσον καὶ ὑγίειαν;
ἰατρός. 332e
τίς δὲ πλέοντας πρὸς τὸν τῆς θαλάττης κίνδυνον;
κυβερνήτης.
τί δὲ ὁ δίκαιος; ἐν τίνι πράξει καὶ πρὸς τί ἔργον δυνατώτατος φίλους ὠφελεῖν καὶ ἐχθροὺς βλάπτειν;
“If we’re to follow what was said before, Socrates,” he said, “it’s the one that gives benefits and harms to friends and enemies.”
“So by justice he means doing good to friends and harm to enemies?”
“I think so.”
“Then who is most able to do good to sick friends and harm to enemies where disease and health are concerned?”
“A doctor.” 332e
“And to people at sea, when it comes to the dangers of the sea?”
“A ship’s captain.”
“What about the just man? In what activity and for what work is he most able to help friends and harm enemies?”
ἐν τῷ προσπολεμεῖν καὶ ἐν τῷ συμμαχεῖν, ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.
εἶεν· μὴ κάμνουσί γε μήν, ὦ φίλε Πολέμαρχε, ἰατρὸς ἄχρηστος.
ἀληθῆ.
καὶ μὴ πλέουσι δὴ κυβερνήτης.
ναί.
ἆρα καὶ τοῖς μὴ πολεμοῦσιν ὁ δίκαιος ἄχρηστος;
οὐ πάνυ μοι δοκεῖ τοῦτο.
χρήσιμον ἄρα καὶ ἐν εἰρήνῃ δικαιοσύνη;
χρήσιμον.
καὶ γὰρ γεωργία· ἢ οὔ;
ναί.
πρός γε καρποῦ κτῆσιν;
ναί.
καὶ μὴν καὶ σκυτοτομική;
ναί.
πρός γε ὑποδημάτων ἂν οἶμαι φαίης κτῆσιν;
πάνυ γε.
“In making war on the one and fighting alongside the other, I think.”
“Very well. But to people who aren’t sick, my dear Polemarchus, a doctor is useless.”
“True.”
“And a captain to people who aren’t sailing.”
“Yes.”
“Then is the just man useless to people who aren’t at war?”
“I really don’t think so.”
“So justice is useful in peacetime too?”
“It is.”
“So is farming, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“For getting crops?”
“Yes.”
“And shoemaking too?”
“Yes.”
“For getting shoes, I suppose you’d say?”
“Certainly.”
τί δὲ δή; τὴν δικαιοσύνην πρὸς τίνος χρείαν ἢ κτῆσιν ἐν εἰρήνῃ φαίης ἂν χρήσιμον εἶναι;
πρὸς τὰ συμβόλαια, ὦ Σώκρατες.
συμβόλαια δὲ λέγεις κοινωνήματα ἤ τι ἄλλο;
κοινωνήματα δῆτα. 333b
ἆρʼ οὖν ὁ δίκαιος ἀγαθὸς καὶ χρήσιμος κοινωνὸς εἰς πεττῶν θέσιν, ἢ ὁ πεττευτικός;
ὁ πεττευτικός.
ἀλλʼ εἰς πλίνθων καὶ λίθων θέσιν ὁ δίκαιος χρησιμώτερός τε καὶ ἀμείνων κοινωνὸς τοῦ οἰκοδομικοῦ;
οὐδαμῶς.
“Well then, justice—for the use or acquisition of what would you say it’s useful in peacetime?”
“For contracts, Socrates.”
“By contracts do you mean partnerships, or something else?”
“Partnerships, of course.” 333b
“Then is it the just man who is a good and useful partner in placing the pieces in a board game, or the skilled player?”
“The skilled player.”
“And in laying bricks and stones, is the just man a more useful and better partner than the builder?”
“Not at all.”
ἀλλʼ εἰς τίνα δὴ κοινωνίαν ὁ δίκαιος ἀμείνων κοινωνὸς τοῦ οἰκοδομικοῦ τε καὶ κιθαριστικοῦ, ὥσπερ ὁ κιθαριστικὸς τοῦ δικαίου εἰς κρουμάτων;
εἰς ἀργυρίου, ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.
πλήν γʼ ἴσως, ὦ Πολέμαρχε, πρὸς τὸ χρῆσθαι ἀργυρίῳ, ὅταν δέῃ ἀργυρίου κοινῇ πρίασθαι ἢ ἀποδόσθαι ἵππον· τότε 333c δέ, ὡς ἐγὼ οἶμαι, ὁ ἱππικός. ἦ γάρ;
φαίνεται.
καὶ μὴν ὅταν γε πλοῖον, ὁ ναυπηγὸς ἢ ὁ κυβερνήτης;
ἔοικεν.
ὅταν οὖν τί δέῃ ἀργυρίῳ ἢ χρυσίῳ κοινῇ χρῆσθαι, ὁ δίκαιος χρησιμώτερος τῶν ἄλλων;
“Then in what kind of partnership is the just man a better partner than the builder or the lyre player, the way the lyre player is better than the just man at striking notes?”
“In money matters, I think.”
“Except perhaps, Polemarchus, when it comes to using money—when you and a partner need to buy or sell a horse with it. Then, 333c I think, it’s the horseman. Isn’t it?”
“Apparently.”
“And when it’s a boat, the shipbuilder or the captain?”
“It seems so.”
“Then when silver or gold has to be used jointly, when is the just man more useful than the others?”
ὅταν παρακαταθέσθαι καὶ σῶν εἶναι, ὦ Σώκρατες.
οὐκοῦν λέγεις ὅταν μηδὲν δέῃ αὐτῷ χρῆσθαι ἀλλὰ κεῖσθαι;
πάνυ γε.
ὅταν ἄρα ἄχρηστον ᾖ ἀργύριον, τότε χρήσιμος ἐπʼ αὐτῷ 333d ἡ δικαιοσύνη;
κινδυνεύει.
καὶ ὅταν δὴ δρέπανον δέῃ φυλάττειν, ἡ δικαιοσύνη χρήσιμος καὶ κοινῇ καὶ ἰδίᾳ· ὅταν δὲ χρῆσθαι, ἡ ἀμπελουργική;
φαίνεται.
φήσεις δὲ καὶ ἀσπίδα καὶ λύραν ὅταν δέῃ φυλάττειν καὶ μηδὲν χρῆσθαι, χρήσιμον εἶναι τὴν δικαιοσύνην, ὅταν δὲ χρῆσθαι, τὴν ὁπλιτικὴν καὶ τὴν μουσικήν;
ἀνάγκη.
“When it’s to be deposited and kept safe, Socrates.”
“You mean when there’s no need to use it, just to let it lie?”
“Exactly.”
“So when money is useless, that’s when justice is useful 333d for it?”
“It may be.”
“And when a pruning knife has to be kept safe, justice is useful, both in public and in private life; but when it has to be used, the vinedresser’s craft is?”
“Apparently.”
“And you’ll say that when a shield or a lyre has to be kept safe and not used at all, justice is useful, but when they have to be used, it’s the soldier’s craft and the musician’s?”
“Necessarily.”
καὶ περὶ τἆλλα δὴ πάντα ἡ δικαιοσύνη ἑκάστου ἐν μὲν χρήσει ἄχρηστος, ἐν δὲ ἀχρηστίᾳ χρήσιμος;
κινδυνεύει. 333e
οὐκ ἂν οὖν, ὦ φίλε, πάνυ γέ τι σπουδαῖον εἴη ἡ δικαιοσύνη, εἰ πρὸς τὰ ἄχρηστα χρήσιμον ὂν τυγχάνει. τόδε δὲ σκεψώμεθα. ἆρʼ οὐχ ὁ πατάξαι δεινότατος ἐν μάχῃ εἴτε πυκτικῇ εἴτε τινὶ καὶ ἄλλῃ, οὗτος καὶ φυλάξασθαι;
πάνυ γε.
ἆρʼ οὖν καὶ νόσον ὅστις δεινὸς φυλάξασθαι, καὶ λαθεῖν οὗτος δεινότατος ἐμποιήσας;
ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.
“And so with everything else: justice is useless when each thing is in use, and useful when it isn’t?”
“It may be.” 333e
“Then justice can’t be anything very important, my friend, if it’s only useful for things that aren’t being used. But let’s look at this. Isn’t the man most skilled at landing a blow in a fight, whether boxing or any other kind, also the most skilled at guarding against one?”
“Certainly.”
“And whoever is skilled at guarding against disease is also the most skilled at secretly producing it?”
“I think so.”
ἀλλὰ μὴν στρατοπέδου γε ὁ αὐτὸς φύλαξ ἀγαθός, ὅσπερ καὶ τὰ τῶν πολεμίων κλέψαι καὶ βουλεύματα καὶ τὰς ἄλλας πράξεις;
πάνυ γε.
ὅτου τις ἄρα δεινὸς φύλαξ, τούτου καὶ φὼρ δεινός.
ἔοικεν.
εἰ ἄρα ὁ δίκαιος ἀργύριον δεινὸς φυλάττειν, καὶ κλέπτειν δεινός.
ὡς γοῦν ὁ λόγος, ἔφη, σημαίνει.
“And the man who is a good guardian of an army camp is the same one who is good at stealing the enemy’s plans and their other operations?”
“Certainly.”
“So whatever someone is a skilled guardian of, he’s also a skilled thief of.”
“It seems so.”
“Then if the just man is skilled at guarding money, he’s also skilled at stealing it.”
“That’s where the argument points, anyway,” he said.
κλέπτης ἄρα τις ὁ δίκαιος, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἀναπέφανται, καὶ κινδυνεύεις παρʼ Ὁμήρου μεμαθηκέναι αὐτό· καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖνος 334b τὸν τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως πρὸς μητρὸς πάππον Αὐτόλυκον ἀγαπᾷ τε καί φησιν αὐτὸν πάντας ἀνθρώπους κεκάσθαι κλεπτοσύνῃ θʼ ὅρκῳ τε . ἔοικεν οὖν ἡ δικαιοσύνη καὶ κατὰ σὲ καὶ καθʼ Ὅμηρον καὶ κατὰ Σιμωνίδην κλεπτική τις εἶναι, ἐπʼ ὠφελίᾳ μέντοι τῶν φίλων καὶ ἐπὶ βλάβῃ τῶν ἐχθρῶν. οὐχ οὕτως ἔλεγες;
“So the just man has turned out to be a kind of thief, it seems. And you probably learned that from Homer. He admires 334b Autolycus, Odysseus’ grandfather on his mother’s side, and says he ‘outdid all men in thieving and in oaths.’ So according to you, and Homer, and Simonides, justice seems to be a kind of art of stealing—but for the benefit of friends and the harm of enemies. Isn’t that what you meant?”
οὐ μὰ τὸν Δίʼ, ἔφη, ἀλλʼ οὐκέτι οἶδα ἔγωγε ὅτι ἔλεγον· τοῦτο μέντοι ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ ἔτι, ὠφελεῖν μὲν τοὺς φίλους ἡ δικαιοσύνη, βλάπτειν δὲ τοὺς ἐχθρούς. 334c
φίλους δὲ λέγεις εἶναι πότερον τοὺς δοκοῦντας ἑκάστῳ χρηστοὺς εἶναι, ἢ τοὺς ὄντας, κἂν μὴ δοκῶσι, καὶ ἐχθροὺς ὡσαύτως;
εἰκὸς μέν, ἔφη, οὓς ἄν τις ἡγῆται χρηστοὺς φιλεῖν, οὓς δʼ ἂν πονηροὺς μισεῖν.
ἆρʼ οὖν οὐχ ἁμαρτάνουσιν οἱ ἄνθρωποι περὶ τοῦτο, ὥστε δοκεῖν αὐτοῖς πολλοὺς μὲν χρηστοὺς εἶναι μὴ ὄντας, πολλοὺς δὲ τοὐναντίον;
ἁμαρτάνουσιν.
“No, by Zeus,” he said. “I don’t know anymore what I meant. But this much I still believe: justice is helping friends and harming enemies.” 334c
“By friends, do you mean those who seem good to a given person, or those who really are good, even if they don’t seem so? And the same with enemies?”
“It’s natural,” he said, “to love those you think are good and hate those you think are bad.”
“But don’t people make mistakes about this, so that many seem good to them who aren’t, and many the reverse?”
“They do.”
τούτοις ἄρα οἱ μὲν ἀγαθοὶ ἐχθροί, οἱ δὲ κακοὶ φίλοι;
πάνυ γε.
ἀλλʼ ὅμως δίκαιον τότε τούτοις τοὺς μὲν πονηροὺς 334d ὠφελεῖν, τοὺς δὲ ἀγαθοὺς βλάπτειν;
φαίνεται.
ἀλλὰ μὴν οἵ γε ἀγαθοὶ δίκαιοί τε καὶ οἷοι μὴ ἀδικεῖν;
ἀληθῆ.
κατὰ δὴ τὸν σὸν λόγον τοὺς μηδὲν ἀδικοῦντας δίκαιον κακῶς ποιεῖν.
μηδαμῶς, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες· πονηρὸς γὰρ ἔοικεν εἶναι ὁ λόγος.
τοὺς ἀδίκους ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, δίκαιον βλάπτειν, τοὺς δὲ δικαίους ὠφελεῖν;
οὗτος ἐκείνου καλλίων φαίνεται.
“So for them the good are enemies and the bad are friends?”
“Certainly.”
“And all the same, it’s just for them in that case to help the bad 334d and harm the good?”
“Apparently.”
“And yet the good are just and the sort who don’t do wrong?”
“True.”
“Then by your account it’s just to harm those who do no wrong.”
“Not at all, Socrates,” he said. “That seems a bad account.”
“Then it’s just,” I said, “to harm the unjust and help the just?”
“That seems finer than the other.”
πολλοῖς ἄρα, ὦ Πολέμαρχε, συμβήσεται, ὅσοι διημαρτήκασιν 334e τῶν ἀνθρώπων, δίκαιον εἶναι τοὺς μὲν φίλους βλάπτειν—πονηροὶ γὰρ αὐτοῖς εἰσιν—τοὺς δʼ ἐχθροὺς ὠφελεῖν —ἀγαθοὶ γάρ· καὶ οὕτως ἐροῦμεν αὐτὸ τοὐναντίον ἢ τὸν Σιμωνίδην ἔφαμεν λέγειν.
καὶ μάλα, ἔφη, οὕτω συμβαίνει. ἀλλὰ μεταθώμεθα· κινδυνεύομεν γὰρ οὐκ ὀρθῶς τὸν φίλον καὶ ἐχθρὸν θέσθαι.
πῶς θέμενοι, ὦ Πολέμαρχε;
τὸν δοκοῦντα χρηστόν, τοῦτον φίλον εἶναι.
νῦν δὲ πῶς, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, μεταθώμεθα;
“Then for many people, Polemarchus—all who have misjudged 334e others—it will turn out to be just to harm their friends, since to them those friends are bad, and to help their enemies, since they’re good. And so we’ll be saying the very opposite of what we said Simonides meant.”
“That’s certainly how it turns out,” he said. “But let’s make a change. It looks as though we didn’t define friend and enemy correctly.”
“How did we define them, Polemarchus?”
“That whoever seems good is a friend.”
“And how should we change it now?” I said.
τὸν δοκοῦντά τε, ἦ δʼ ὅς, καὶ τὸν ὄντα χρηστὸν φίλον· 335a τὸν δὲ δοκοῦντα μέν, ὄντα δὲ μή, δοκεῖν ἀλλὰ μὴ εἶναι φίλον. καὶ περὶ τοῦ ἐχθροῦ δὲ ἡ αὐτὴ θέσις.
φίλος μὲν δή, ὡς ἔοικε, τούτῳ τῷ λόγῳ ὁ ἀγαθὸς ἔσται, ἐχθρὸς δὲ ὁ πονηρός.
ναί.
“That a friend is someone who both seems good and is good,” he said. 335a “Someone who seems good but isn’t only seems to be a friend and isn’t one. And the same goes for an enemy.”
“Then by this account, it seems, the good man will be a friend and the bad man an enemy.”
“Yes.”
κελεύεις δὴ ἡμᾶς προσθεῖναι τῷ δικαίῳ ἢ ὡς τὸ πρῶτον ἐλέγομεν, λέγοντες δίκαιον εἶναι τὸν μὲν φίλον εὖ ποιεῖν, τὸν δʼ ἐχθρὸν κακῶς· νῦν πρὸς τούτῳ ὧδε λέγειν, ὅτι ἔστιν δίκαιον τὸν μὲν φίλον ἀγαθὸν ὄντα εὖ ποιεῖν, τὸν δʼ ἐχθρὸν κακὸν ὄντα βλάπτειν; 335b
πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη, οὕτως ἄν μοι δοκεῖ καλῶς λέγεσθαι.
ἔστιν ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, δικαίου ἀνδρὸς βλάπτειν καὶ ὁντινοῦν ἀνθρώπων;
καὶ πάνυ γε, ἔφη· τούς γε πονηρούς τε καὶ ἐχθροὺς δεῖ βλάπτειν.
βλαπτόμενοι δʼ ἵπποι βελτίους ἢ χείρους γίγνονται;
χείρους.
“So you want us to add to what we said about the just at first. We said it was just to do good to a friend and harm to an enemy; now you want us to add that it’s just to do good to a friend who is good, and to harm an enemy who is bad?” 335b
“Certainly,” he said. “Put that way, I think it would be well said.”
“Then is it the part of a just man,” I said, “to harm anyone at all?”
“Of course,” he said. “He has to harm those who are bad and are his enemies.”
“When horses are harmed, do they become better or worse?”
“Worse.”
ἆρα εἰς τὴν τῶν κυνῶν ἀρετήν, ἢ εἰς τὴν τῶν ἵππων;
εἰς τὴν τῶν ἵππων.
ἆρʼ οὖν καὶ κύνες βλαπτόμενοι χείρους γίγνονται εἰς τὴν τῶν κυνῶν ἀλλʼ οὐκ εἰς τὴν τῶν ἵππων ἀρετήν;
ἀνάγκη. 335c
ἀνθρώπους δέ, ὦ ἑταῖρε, μὴ οὕτω φῶμεν, βλαπτομένους εἰς τὴν ἀνθρωπείαν ἀρετὴν χείρους γίγνεσθαι;
πάνυ μὲν οὖν.
ἀλλʼ ἡ δικαιοσύνη οὐκ ἀνθρωπεία ἀρετή;
καὶ τοῦτʼ ἀνάγκη.
καὶ τοὺς βλαπτομένους ἄρα, ὦ φίλε, τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἀνάγκη ἀδικωτέρους γίγνεσθαι.
ἔοικεν.
“With respect to the excellence of dogs, or of horses?”
“Of horses.”
“And dogs, when they’re harmed, become worse with respect to the excellence of dogs, not of horses?”
“Necessarily.” 335c
“And shouldn’t we say the same of human beings, my friend—that when they’re harmed they become worse with respect to human excellence?”
“Certainly.”
“But isn’t justice human excellence?”
“That’s necessary too.”
“Then, my friend, people who are harmed necessarily become more unjust.”
“It seems so.”
ἆρʼ οὖν τῇ μουσικῇ οἱ μουσικοὶ ἀμούσους δύνανται ποιεῖν;
ἀδύνατον.
ἀλλὰ τῇ ἱππικῇ οἱ ἱππικοὶ ἀφίππους;
οὐκ ἔστιν.
ἀλλὰ τῇ δικαιοσύνῃ δὴ οἱ δίκαιοι ἀδίκους; ἢ καὶ 335d συλλήβδην ἀρετῇ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ κακούς;
ἀλλὰ ἀδύνατον.
οὐ γὰρ θερμότητος οἶμαι ἔργον ψύχειν ἀλλὰ τοῦ ἐναντίου.
ναί.
οὐδὲ ξηρότητος ὑγραίνειν ἀλλὰ τοῦ ἐναντίου.
πάνυ γε.
οὐδὲ δὴ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ βλάπτειν ἀλλὰ τοῦ ἐναντίου.
φαίνεται.
ὁ δέ γε δίκαιος ἀγαθός;
πάνυ γε.
“Now can musicians, by music, make people unmusical?”
“Impossible.”
“Or horsemen, by horsemanship, make people bad at riding?”
“They can’t.”
“Then can just people, by justice, make people unjust? Or, 335d to sum up, can good people, by excellence, make people bad?”
“No, that’s impossible.”
“It isn’t the work of heat, I suppose, to cool things, but of its opposite.”
“Yes.”
“Nor the work of dryness to make things wet, but of its opposite.”
“Certainly.”
“Nor, then, the work of the good to harm, but of its opposite.”
“Apparently.”
“And the just man is good?”
“Certainly.”
οὐκ ἄρα τοῦ δικαίου βλάπτειν ἔργον, ὦ Πολέμαρχε, οὔτε φίλον οὔτʼ ἄλλον οὐδένα, ἀλλὰ τοῦ ἐναντίου, τοῦ ἀδίκου.
παντάπασί μοι δοκεῖς ἀληθῆ λέγειν, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες. 335e
εἰ ἄρα τὰ ὀφειλόμενα ἑκάστῳ ἀποδιδόναι φησίν τις δίκαιον εἶναι, τοῦτο δὲ δὴ νοεῖ αὐτῷ τοῖς μὲν ἐχθροῖς βλάβην ὀφείλεσθαι παρὰ τοῦ δικαίου ἀνδρός, τοῖς δὲ φίλοις ὠφελίαν, οὐκ ἦν σοφὸς ὁ ταῦτα εἰπών. οὐ γὰρ ἀληθῆ ἔλεγεν· οὐδαμοῦ γὰρ δίκαιον οὐδένα ἡμῖν ἐφάνη ὂν βλάπτειν.
συγχωρῶ, ἦ δʼ ὅς.
“Then it isn’t the work of the just man to harm, Polemarchus, whether a friend or anyone else, but of his opposite, the unjust man.”
“I think what you say is entirely true, Socrates,” he said. 335e
“So if anyone says that it’s just to give each person what is owed, and by this he means that the just man owes harm to his enemies and help to his friends, whoever said it wasn’t wise. What he said wasn’t true: it has become clear to us that it’s never just to harm anyone.”
“I agree,” he said.
μαχούμεθα ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, κοινῇ ἐγώ τε καὶ σύ, ἐάν τις αὐτὸ φῇ ἢ Σιμωνίδην ἢ Βίαντα ἢ Πιττακὸν εἰρηκέναι ἤ τινʼ ἄλλον τῶν σοφῶν τε καὶ μακαρίων ἀνδρῶν.
ἐγὼ γοῦν, ἔφη, ἕτοιμός εἰμι κοινωνεῖν τῆς μάχης.
ἀλλʼ οἶσθα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὗ μοι δοκεῖ εἶναι τὸ ῥῆμα, τὸ φάναι δίκαιον εἶναι τοὺς μὲν φίλους ὠφελεῖν, τοὺς δʼ ἐχθροὺς βλάπτειν;
τίνος; ἔφη.
οἶμαι αὐτὸ Περιάνδρου εἶναι ἢ Περδίκκου ἢ Ξέρξου ἢ Ἰσμηνίου τοῦ Θηβαίου ἤ τινος ἄλλου μέγα οἰομένου δύνασθαι πλουσίου ἀνδρός.
ἀληθέστατα, ἔφη, λέγεις.
“Then you and I will fight side by side,” I said, “against anyone who claims that Simonides said it, or Bias or Pittacus or any other of the wise and blessed men.”
“I, for one,” he said, “am ready to join the fight.”
“But do you know whose saying I think it is,” I said, “that it’s just to help friends and harm enemies?”
“Whose?” he said.
“I think it’s a saying of Periander, or Perdiccas, or Xerxes, or Ismenias of Thebes, or some other rich man who thought he had great power.”
“That’s very true,” he said.
Thrasymachus bursts in
Thrasymachus angrily claims that justice is the advantage of the stronger, and Socrates challenges him.
εἶεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· ἐπειδὴ δὲ οὐδὲ τοῦτο ἐφάνη ἡ δικαιοσύνη ὂν οὐδὲ τὸ δίκαιον, τί ἂν ἄλλο τις αὐτὸ φαίη εἶναι; 336b
καὶ ὁ Θρασύμαχος πολλάκις μὲν καὶ διαλεγομένων ἡμῶν μεταξὺ ὥρμα ἀντιλαμβάνεσθαι τοῦ λόγου, ἔπειτα ὑπὸ τῶν παρακαθημένων διεκωλύετο βουλομένων διακοῦσαι τὸν λόγον· ὡς δὲ διεπαυσάμεθα καὶ ἐγὼ ταῦτʼ εἶπον, οὐκέτι ἡσυχίαν ἦγεν, ἀλλὰ συστρέψας ἑαυτὸν ὥσπερ θηρίον ἧκεν ἐφʼ ἡμᾶς ὡς διαρπασόμενος.
“Very well,” I said. “Since it has become clear that justice and the just aren’t this either, what else could anyone say it is?” 336b
Now Thrasymachus had several times, while we were talking, started to break in and take over the argument, but he’d been held back by the people sitting near him, who wanted to hear it through. When we paused and I said this, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. He gathered himself like a wild beast and sprang at us as if to tear us to pieces.
καὶ ἐγώ τε καὶ ὁ Πολέμαρχος δείσαντες διεπτοήθημεν· ὁ δʼ εἰς τὸ μέσον φθεγξάμενος, τίς, ἔφη, ὑμᾶς πάλαι φλυαρία 336c ἔχει, ὦ Σώκρατες; καὶ τί εὐηθίζεσθε πρὸς ἀλλήλους ὑποκατακλινόμενοι ὑμῖν αὐτοῖς; ἀλλʼ εἴπερ ὡς ἀληθῶς βούλει εἰδέναι τὸ δίκαιον ὅτι ἔστι, μὴ μόνον ἐρώτα μηδὲ φιλοτιμοῦ ἐλέγχων ἐπειδάν τίς τι ἀποκρίνηται, ἐγνωκὼς τοῦτο, ὅτι ῥᾷον ἐρωτᾶν ἢ ἀποκρίνεσθαι, ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸς ἀπόκριναι καὶ εἰπὲ τί φῂς εἶναι τὸ δίκαιον. καὶ ὅπως μοι μὴ ἐρεῖς ὅτι τὸ 336d δέον ἐστὶν μηδʼ ὅτι τὸ ὠφέλιμον μηδʼ ὅτι τὸ λυσιτελοῦν μηδʼ ὅτι τὸ κερδαλέον μηδʼ ὅτι τὸ συμφέρον, ἀλλὰ σαφῶς μοι καὶ ἀκριβῶς λέγε ὅτι ἂν λέγῃς· ὡς ἐγὼ οὐκ ἀποδέξομαι ἐὰν ὕθλους τοιούτους λέγῃς.
Polemarchus and I were terrified and flustered. He shouted out into our midst: “What’s this nonsense that has had hold of you two 336c all this time, Socrates? Why are you playing the simpleton with each other, bowing and deferring to one another? If you really want to know what the just is, don’t just ask questions and show off by refuting whatever answer anyone gives—you know perfectly well that it’s easier to ask than to answer. Give an answer yourself, and say what you claim the just is. And don’t you dare tell me that it’s 336d what’s needful, or what’s beneficial, or profitable, or gainful, or advantageous. Tell me clearly and precisely whatever you mean. I won’t accept it if you talk drivel like that.”
καὶ ἐγὼ ἀκούσας ἐξεπλάγην καὶ προσβλέπων αὐτὸν ἐφοβούμην, καί μοι δοκῶ, εἰ μὴ πρότερος ἑωράκη αὐτὸν ἢ ἐκεῖνος ἐμέ, ἄφωνος ἂν γενέσθαι. νῦν δὲ ἡνίκα ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγου ἤρχετο ἐξαγριαίνεσθαι, προσέβλεψα αὐτὸν πρότερος, 336e ὥστε αὐτῷ οἷός τʼ ἐγενόμην ἀποκρίνασθαι, καὶ εἶπον ὑποτρέμων· ὦ Θρασύμαχε, μὴ χαλεπὸς ἡμῖν ἴσθι· εἰ γάρ τι ἐξαμαρτάνομεν ἐν τῇ τῶν λόγων σκέψει ἐγώ τε καὶ ὅδε, εὖ ἴσθι ὅτι ἄκοντες ἁμαρτάνομεν. μὴ γὰρ δὴ οἴου, εἰ μὲν χρυσίον ἐζητοῦμεν, οὐκ ἄν ποτε ἡμᾶς ἑκόντας εἶναι ὑποκατακλίνεσθαι ἀλλήλοις ἐν τῇ ζητήσει καὶ διαφθείρειν τὴν εὕρεσιν αὐτοῦ, δικαιοσύνην δὲ ζητοῦντας, πρᾶγμα πολλῶν χρυσίων τιμιώτερον, ἔπειθʼ οὕτως ἀνοήτως ὑπείκειν ἀλλήλοις καὶ οὐ σπουδάζειν ὅτι μάλιστα φανῆναι αὐτό.
When I heard this I was stunned, and I looked at him in fear. I think that if I hadn’t seen him before he saw me, I’d have been struck dumb. As it was, when the argument began to drive him wild, I had looked at him first, 336e so I was able to answer him, and I said, trembling a little, “Thrasymachus, don’t be hard on us. If he and I are making some mistake in examining the arguments, you can be sure we’re making it unwillingly. If we were looking for gold, you surely don’t think we’d ever willingly defer to each other in the search and ruin our chances of finding it. So don’t think that when we’re looking for justice, a thing more precious than a great deal of gold, we’d then give way to each other so mindlessly, and not make every effort to bring it to light.
οἴου γε σύ, ὦ φίλε. ἀλλʼ οἶμαι οὐ δυνάμεθα· ἐλεεῖσθαι οὖν ἡμᾶς πολὺ 337a μᾶλλον εἰκός ἐστίν που ὑπὸ ὑμῶν τῶν δεινῶν ἢ χαλεπαίνεσθαι.
καὶ ὃς ἀκούσας ἀνεκάγχασέ τε μάλα σαρδάνιον καὶ εἶπεν· ὦ Ἡράκλεις, ἔφη, αὕτη ʼκείνη ἡ εἰωθυῖα εἰρωνεία Σωκράτους, καὶ ταῦτʼ ἐγὼ ᾔδη τε καὶ τούτοις προύλεγον, ὅτι σὺ ἀποκρίνασθαι μὲν οὐκ ἐθελήσοις, εἰρωνεύσοιο δὲ καὶ πάντα μᾶλλον ποιήσοις ἢ ἀποκρινοῖο, εἴ τίς τί σε ἐρωτᾷ.
“No, my friend, you should believe we’re in earnest. But I don’t think we’re able. So it’s surely far 337a more fitting for clever people like you to pity us than to be harsh with us.”
When he heard this he burst out in a loud, sardonic laugh and said, “Heracles! Here it is, Socrates’ usual irony. I knew it, and I told these people beforehand that you’d refuse to answer, that you’d play the innocent and do anything rather than answer if someone asked you something.”
σοφὸς γὰρ εἶ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε· εὖ οὖν ᾔδησθα ὅτι εἴ τινα ἔροιο ὁπόσα ἐστὶν τὰ δώδεκα, καὶ ἐρόμενος προείποις 337b αὐτῷ— “ὅπως μοι, ὦ ἄνθρωπε, μὴ ἐρεῖς ὅτι ἔστιν τὰ δώδεκα δὶς ἓξ μηδʼ ὅτι τρὶς τέτταρα μηδʼ ὅτι ἑξάκις δύο μηδʼ ὅτι τετράκις τρία· ὡς οὐκ ἀποδέξομαί σου ἐὰν τοιαῦτα φλυαρῇς” —δῆλον οἶμαί σοι ἦν ὅτι οὐδεὶς ἀποκρινοῖτο τῷ οὕτως πυνθανομένῳ. ἀλλʼ εἴ σοι εἶπεν· “ὦ Θρασύμαχε, πῶς λέγεις; μὴ ἀποκρίνωμαι ὧν προεῖπες μηδέν; πότερον, ὦ θαυμάσιε, μηδʼ εἰ τούτων τι τυγχάνει ὄν, ἀλλʼ ἕτερον εἴπω τι 337c τοῦ ἀληθοῦς; ἢ πῶς λέγεις;” τί ἂν αὐτῷ εἶπες πρὸς ταῦτα;
“That’s because you’re wise, Thrasymachus,” I said. “So you knew very well that if you asked someone how much twelve is, and when you asked him you warned him in advance, 337b ‘And don’t you tell me, man, that twelve is two times six, or three times four, or six times two, or four times three, because I won’t accept that kind of drivel from you’—it was clear to you, I think, that nobody would answer a person who asked that way. But suppose he said to you, ‘Thrasymachus, what do you mean? Am I not to give any of the answers you ruled out? Even, you amazing man, if one of them happens to be right? Am I to say something other 337c than the truth? Or what do you mean?’ What would you say to him?”
εἶεν, ἔφη· ὡς δὴ ὅμοιον τοῦτο ἐκείνῳ.
οὐδέν γε κωλύει, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· εἰ δʼ οὖν καὶ μὴ ἔστιν ὅμοιον, φαίνεται δὲ τῷ ἐρωτηθέντι τοιοῦτον, ἧττόν τι αὐτὸν οἴει ἀποκρινεῖσθαι τὸ φαινόμενον ἑαυτῷ, ἐάντε ἡμεῖς ἀπαγορεύωμεν ἐάντε μή;
ἄλλο τι οὖν, ἔφη, καὶ σὺ οὕτω ποιήσεις· ὧν ἐγὼ ἀπεῖπον, τούτων τι ἀποκρινῇ;
οὐκ ἂν θαυμάσαιμι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· εἴ μοι σκεψαμένῳ οὕτω δόξειεν. 337d
τί οὖν, ἔφη, ἂν ἐγὼ δείξω ἑτέραν ἀπόκρισιν παρὰ πάσας ταύτας περὶ δικαιοσύνης, βελτίω τούτων; τί ἀξιοῖς παθεῖν;
“Oh, of course,” he said. “As if this case were like that one!”
“Nothing stops it from being,” I said. “But even if it isn’t alike, and yet it seems so to the person being asked, do you think he’s any less likely to answer as it seems to him, whether we forbid him or not?”
“So that’s what you’re going to do too?” he said. “You’re going to give one of the answers I ruled out?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said, “if that’s how it seemed to me once I’d looked into it.” 337d
“Well then,” he said, “what if I show you a different answer about justice, besides all these, and better than them? What penalty do you think you deserve?”
τί ἄλλο, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἢ ὅπερ προσήκει πάσχειν τῷ μὴ εἰδότι; προσήκει δέ που μαθεῖν παρὰ τοῦ εἰδότος· καὶ ἐγὼ οὖν τοῦτο ἀξιῶ παθεῖν.
ἡδὺς γὰρ εἶ, ἔφη· ἀλλὰ πρὸς τῷ μαθεῖν καὶ ἀπότεισον ἀργύριον.
οὐκοῦν ἐπειδάν μοι γένηται, εἶπον.
ἀλλʼ ἔστιν, ἔφη ὁ Γλαύκων. ἀλλʼ ἕνεκα ἀργυρίου, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, λέγε· πάντες γὰρ ἡμεῖς Σωκράτει εἰσοίσομεν. 337e
πάνυ γε οἶμαι, ἦ δʼ ὅς· ἵνα Σωκράτης τὸ εἰωθὸς διαπράξηται· αὐτὸς μὲν μὴ ἀποκρίνηται, ἄλλου δʼ ἀποκρινομένου λαμβάνῃ λόγον καὶ ἐλέγχῃ.
“What else,” I said, “but the penalty that’s fitting for someone who doesn’t know? And what’s fitting, I suppose, is to learn from someone who does. So that’s the penalty I propose for myself.”
“You’re delightful,” he said. “But on top of learning, you’ll pay a fine in cash too.”
“I will, once I have some,” I said.
“But he has it,” said Glaucon. “If it’s a question of money, Thrasymachus, speak. We’ll all chip in for Socrates.” 337e
“Oh yes, of course,” he said, “so that Socrates can do what he always does: not answer himself, but take up someone else’s answer and refute it.”
πῶς γὰρ ἄν, ἔφην ἐγώ, ὦ βέλτιστε, τὶς ἀποκρίναιτο πρῶτον μὲν μὴ εἰδὼς μηδὲ φάσκων εἰδέναι, ἔπειτα, εἴ τι καὶ οἴεται, περὶ τούτων ἀπειρημένον αὐτῷ εἴη ὅπως μηδὲν ἐρεῖ ὧν ἡγεῖται ὑπʼ ἀνδρὸς οὐ φαύλου; ἀλλὰ σὲ δὴ μᾶλλον 338a εἰκὸς λέγειν· σὺ γὰρ δὴ φῂς εἰδέναι καὶ ἔχειν εἰπεῖν. μὴ οὖν ἄλλως ποίει, ἀλλὰ ἐμοί τε χαρίζου ἀποκρινόμενος καὶ μὴ φθονήσῃς καὶ Γλαύκωνα τόνδε διδάξαι καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους.
“But my excellent friend,” I said, “how could anyone answer when, first, he doesn’t know and doesn’t claim to know, and second, even if he does have some view about these things, he’s been forbidden by no ordinary man to say any of what he believes? No, it’s more 338a reasonable for you to speak, since you’re the one who claims to know and to have something to say. So don’t refuse. Do me a favor and answer, and don’t begrudge your teaching to Glaucon here and the others.”
εἰπόντος δέ μου ταῦτα, ὅ τε Γλαύκων καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι ἐδέοντο αὐτοῦ μὴ ἄλλως ποιεῖν. καὶ ὁ Θρασύμαχος φανερὸς μὲν ἦν ἐπιθυμῶν εἰπεῖν ἵνʼ εὐδοκιμήσειεν, ἡγούμενος ἔχειν ἀπόκρισιν παγκάλην· προσεποιεῖτο δὲ φιλονικεῖν πρὸς τὸ ἐμὲ εἶναι τὸν ἀποκρινόμενον. τελευτῶν δὲ συνεχώρησεν, 338b κἄπειτα, αὕτη δή, ἔφη, ἡ Σωκράτους σοφία· αὐτὸν μὲν μὴ ἐθέλειν διδάσκειν, παρὰ δὲ τῶν ἄλλων περιιόντα μανθάνειν καὶ τούτων μηδὲ χάριν ἀποδιδόναι.
When I’d said this, Glaucon and the others begged him not to refuse. It was obvious that Thrasymachus wanted to speak so as to win a good name, since he thought he had a splendid answer; but he pretended to insist that I be the one to answer. In the end he gave in, 338b and then he said, “So this is Socrates’ wisdom: he refuses to teach anything himself, but goes around learning from others, and doesn’t even thank them for it.”
ὅτι μέν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, μανθάνω παρὰ τῶν ἄλλων, ἀληθῆ εἶπες, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ὅτι δὲ οὔ με φῂς χάριν ἐκτίνειν, ψεύδῃ· ἐκτίνω γὰρ ὅσην δύναμαι. δύναμαι δὲ ἐπαινεῖν μόνον· χρήματα γὰρ οὐκ ἔχω. ὡς δὲ προθύμως τοῦτο δρῶ, ἐάν τίς μοι δοκῇ εὖ λέγειν, εὖ εἴσῃ αὐτίκα δὴ μάλα, ἐπειδὰν ἀποκρίνῃ· οἶμαι γάρ σε εὖ ἐρεῖν. 338c
ἄκουε δή, ἦ δʼ ὅς. φημὶ γὰρ ἐγὼ εἶναι τὸ δίκαιον οὐκ ἄλλο τι ἢ τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον. ἀλλὰ τί οὐκ ἐπαινεῖς; ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἐθελήσεις.
“That I learn from others,” I said, “is true, Thrasymachus. But when you say I don’t pay back the favor, that’s false: I pay back as much as I can. And all I can do is praise, since I don’t have any money. How eagerly I do that when someone seems to me to speak well, you’ll find out very soon, once you’ve answered—because I think you’ll speak well.” 338c
“Listen, then,” he said. “I say that what is just is nothing other than the advantage of the stronger. Well, why don’t you praise me? No, you won’t want to.”
ἐὰν μάθω γε πρῶτον, ἔφην, τί λέγεις· νῦν γὰρ οὔπω οἶδα. τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος φῂς συμφέρον δίκαιον εἶναι. καὶ τοῦτο, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, τί ποτε λέγεις; οὐ γάρ που τό γε τοιόνδε φῄς· εἰ Πουλυδάμας ἡμῶν κρείττων ὁ παγκρατιαστὴς καὶ αὐτῷ συμφέρει τὰ βόεια κρέα πρὸς τὸ σῶμα, τοῦτο τὸ 338d σιτίον εἶναι καὶ ἡμῖν τοῖς ἥττοσιν ἐκείνου συμφέρον ἅμα καὶ δίκαιον.
βδελυρὸς γὰρ εἶ, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, καὶ ταύτῃ ὑπολαμβάνεις ᾗ ἂν κακουργήσαις μάλιστα τὸν λόγον.
οὐδαμῶς, ὦ ἄριστε, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· ἀλλὰ σαφέστερον εἰπὲ τί λέγεις.
“I will, once I understand what you mean,” I said. “Right now I don’t yet know. You say that the advantage of the stronger is just. What on earth do you mean by that, Thrasymachus? Surely you don’t mean something like this: if Polydamas the pancratiast is stronger than we are, and beef is good for his body, then this 338d food is also advantageous, and just as well, for us who are weaker than he is.”
“You’re disgusting, Socrates,” he said. “You take up the argument in whatever way lets you do it the most damage.”
“Not at all, my excellent friend,” I said. “Just tell me more clearly what you mean.”
εἶτʼ οὐκ οἶσθʼ, ἔφη, ὅτι τῶν πόλεων αἱ μὲν τυραννοῦνται, αἱ δὲ δημοκρατοῦνται, αἱ δὲ ἀριστοκρατοῦνται;
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
οὐκοῦν τοῦτο κρατεῖ ἐν ἑκάστῃ πόλει, τὸ ἄρχον;
πάνυ γε. 338e
τίθεται δέ γε τοὺς νόμους ἑκάστη ἡ ἀρχὴ πρὸς τὸ αὑτῇ συμφέρον, δημοκρατία μὲν δημοκρατικούς, τυραννὶς δὲ τυραννικούς, καὶ αἱ ἄλλαι οὕτως· θέμεναι δὲ ἀπέφηναν τοῦτο δίκαιον τοῖς ἀρχομένοις εἶναι, τὸ σφίσι συμφέρον, καὶ τὸν τούτου ἐκβαίνοντα κολάζουσιν ὡς παρανομοῦντά τε καὶ ἀδικοῦντα.
“Well, don’t you know,” he said, “that some cities are ruled by tyrants, some are democracies, and some are aristocracies?”
“Of course.”
“And in each city it’s the ruling element that holds power?”
“Certainly.” 338e
“And each ruling body makes laws for its own advantage: a democracy makes democratic laws, a tyranny tyrannical ones, and the others the same way. Having made them, they declare that this—what’s to their own advantage—is just for their subjects, and they punish anyone who departs from it as a lawbreaker and a wrongdoer.
τοῦτʼ οὖν ἐστιν, ὦ βέλτιστε, ὃ λέγω ἐν ἁπάσαις 339a ταῖς πόλεσιν ταὐτὸν εἶναι δίκαιον, τὸ τῆς καθεστηκυίας ἀρχῆς συμφέρον· αὕτη δέ που κρατεῖ, ὥστε συμβαίνει τῷ ὀρθῶς λογιζομένῳ πανταχοῦ εἶναι τὸ αὐτὸ δίκαιον, τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον.
νῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἔμαθον ὃ λέγεις· εἰ δὲ ἀληθὲς ἢ μή, πειράσομαι μαθεῖν. τὸ συμφέρον μὲν οὖν, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, καὶ σὺ ἀπεκρίνω δίκαιον εἶναι—καίτοι ἔμοιγε ἀπηγόρευες ὅπως μὴ τοῦτο ἀποκρινοίμην—πρόσεστιν δὲ δὴ αὐτόθι τὸ “τοῦ κρείττονος.” 339b
σμικρά γε ἴσως, ἔφη, προσθήκη.
“This, then, my excellent friend, is what I mean: in all 339a cities the same thing is just, the advantage of the established rule. And that rule, I take it, holds power, so that anyone who reasons correctly concludes that everywhere the just is the same thing, the advantage of the stronger.”
“Now I understand what you mean,” I said. “Whether it’s true or not, I’ll try to find out. So you too, Thrasymachus, have answered that the just is the advantageous—though you forbade me to give that answer. But you’ve added ‘of the stronger’ to it.” 339b
“A small addition, perhaps,” he said.
οὔπω δῆλον οὐδʼ εἰ μεγάλη· ἀλλʼ ὅτι μὲν τοῦτο σκεπτέον εἰ ἀληθῆ λέγεις, δῆλον. ἐπειδὴ γὰρ συμφέρον γέ τι εἶναι καὶ ἐγὼ ὁμολογῶ τὸ δίκαιον, σὺ δὲ προστιθεῖς καὶ αὐτὸ φῂς εἶναι τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος, ἐγὼ δὲ ἀγνοῶ, σκεπτέον δή.
σκόπει, ἔφη.
ταῦτʼ ἔσται, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ. καί μοι εἰπέ· οὐ καὶ πείθεσθαι μέντοι τοῖς ἄρχουσιν δίκαιον φῂς εἶναι;
ἔγωγε. 339c
πότερον δὲ ἀναμάρτητοί εἰσιν οἱ ἄρχοντες ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν ἑκάσταις ἢ οἷοί τι καὶ ἁμαρτεῖν;
πάντως που, ἔφη, οἷοί τι καὶ ἁμαρτεῖν.
“It isn’t clear yet whether it’s even a big one. But it is clear that we have to examine whether what you say is true. I too agree that the just is something advantageous; but you add to it and say it’s the advantage of the stronger, and that I don’t know. So we have to examine it.”
“Examine away,” he said.
“I will,” I said. “Tell me: you also say, don’t you, that obeying the rulers is just?”
“I do.” 339c
“And are the rulers in each city infallible, or are they capable of making mistakes too?”
“Of course,” he said, “they’re capable of making mistakes too.”
οὐκοῦν ἐπιχειροῦντες νόμους τιθέναι τοὺς μὲν ὀρθῶς τιθέασιν, τοὺς δέ τινας οὐκ ὀρθῶς;
οἶμαι ἔγωγε.
τὸ δὲ ὀρθῶς ἆρα τὸ τὰ συμφέροντά ἐστι τίθεσθαι ἑαυτοῖς, τὸ δὲ μὴ ὀρθῶς ἀσύμφορα; ἢ πῶς λέγεις;
οὕτως.
ἃ δʼ ἂν θῶνται ποιητέον τοῖς ἀρχομένοις, καὶ τοῦτό ἐστι τὸ δίκαιον;
πῶς γὰρ οὔ; 339d
οὐ μόνον ἄρα δίκαιόν ἐστιν κατὰ τὸν σὸν λόγον τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον ποιεῖν ἀλλὰ καὶ τοὐναντίον, τὸ μὴ συμφέρον.
τί λέγεις σύ; ἔφη.
“So when they set about making laws, some they make correctly, but some incorrectly?”
“I suppose so.”
“And making them correctly means making them to their own advantage, and incorrectly to their disadvantage? Or how would you put it?”
“That way.”
“And whatever they lay down, the subjects must do, and that is what’s just?”
“Of course.” 339d
“Then according to your argument it’s just to do not only what’s to the advantage of the stronger but also the opposite, what isn’t to his advantage.”
“What are you saying?” he said.
ἃ σὺ λέγεις, ἔμοιγε δοκῶ· σκοπῶμεν δὲ βέλτιον. οὐχ ὡμολόγηται τοὺς ἄρχοντας τοῖς ἀρχομένοις προστάττοντας ποιεῖν ἄττα ἐνίοτε διαμαρτάνειν τοῦ ἑαυτοῖς βελτίστου, ἃ δʼ ἂν προστάττωσιν οἱ ἄρχοντες δίκαιον εἶναι τοῖς ἀρχομένοις ποιεῖν; ταῦτʼ οὐχ ὡμολόγηται;
οἶμαι ἔγωγε, ἔφη. 339e
“What you’re saying, I think. But let’s look at it more carefully. Haven’t we agreed that when rulers order their subjects to do something they sometimes miss what’s best for themselves, and that whatever the rulers order, it’s just for the subjects to do? Haven’t we agreed on that?”
“I suppose so,” he said. 339e
οἴου τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ τὸ ἀσύμφορα ποιεῖν τοῖς ἄρχουσί τε καὶ κρείττοσι δίκαιον εἶναι ὡμολογῆσθαί σοι, ὅταν οἱ μὲν ἄρχοντες ἄκοντες κακὰ αὑτοῖς προστάττωσιν, τοῖς δὲ δίκαιον εἶναι φῇς ταῦτα ποιεῖν ἃ ἐκεῖνοι προσέταξαν —ἆρα τότε, ὦ σοφώτατε Θρασύμαχε, οὐκ ἀναγκαῖον συμβαίνειν αὐτὸ οὑτωσί, δίκαιον εἶναι ποιεῖν τοὐναντίον ἢ ὃ σὺ λέγεις; τὸ γὰρ τοῦ κρείττονος ἀσύμφορον δήπου προστάττεται τοῖς ἥττοσιν ποιεῖν.
ναὶ μὰ Δίʼ, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὁ Πολέμαρχος, σαφέστατά γε.
ἐὰν σύ γʼ, ἔφη, αὐτῷ μαρτυρήσῃς, ὁ Κλειτοφῶν ὑπολαβών.
“Then you must realize,” I said, “that you’ve also agreed it’s just to do what’s to the disadvantage of the rulers, the stronger, whenever the rulers unintentionally order what’s bad for themselves, since you say it’s just for the others to do whatever the rulers have ordered. In that case, my most wise Thrasymachus, doesn’t it necessarily follow that it’s just to do the opposite of what you say? For the weaker are then ordered, surely, to do what’s to the disadvantage of the stronger.”
“Yes, by Zeus, Socrates,” said Polemarchus, “that’s perfectly clear.”
“If you’re his witness, anyway,” Clitophon broke in.
καὶ τί, ἔφη, δεῖται μάρτυρος; αὐτὸς γὰρ Θρασύμαχος ὁμολογεῖ τοὺς μὲν ἄρχοντας ἐνίοτε ἑαυτοῖς κακὰ προστάττειν, τοῖς δὲ δίκαιον εἶναι ταῦτα ποιεῖν.
τὸ γὰρ τὰ κελευόμενα ποιεῖν, ὦ Πολέμαρχε, ὑπὸ τῶν ἀρχόντων δίκαιον εἶναι ἔθετο Θρασύμαχος.
καὶ γὰρ τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος, ὦ Κλειτοφῶν, συμφέρον 340b δίκαιον εἶναι ἔθετο. ταῦτα δὲ ἀμφότερα θέμενος ὡμολόγησεν αὖ ἐνίοτε τοὺς κρείττους τὰ αὑτοῖς ἀσύμφορα κελεύειν τοὺς ἥττους τε καὶ ἀρχομένους ποιεῖν. ἐκ δὲ τούτων τῶν ὁμολογιῶν οὐδὲν μᾶλλον τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον δίκαιον ἂν εἴη ἢ τὸ μὴ συμφέρον.
“And what need is there of a witness?” he said. “Thrasymachus himself agrees that rulers sometimes order what’s bad for themselves, and that it’s just for the others to do it.”
“Yes, Polemarchus, because what Thrasymachus laid down as just was doing what the rulers command.”
“Yes, Clitophon, and he also laid down that the advantage of the stronger 340b is just. And having laid down both, he agreed in turn that the stronger sometimes order the weaker, their subjects, to do what’s to the stronger’s own disadvantage. From these agreements it follows that the advantage of the stronger would be no more just than what isn’t to their advantage.”
ἀλλʼ, ἔφη ὁ Κλειτοφῶν, τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον ἔλεγεν ὃ ἡγοῖτο ὁ κρείττων αὑτῷ συμφέρειν· τοῦτο ποιητέον εἶναι τῷ ἥττονι, καὶ τὸ δίκαιον τοῦτο ἐτίθετο.
ἀλλʼ οὐχ οὕτως, ἦ δʼ ὃς ὁ Πολέμαρχος, ἐλέγετο. 340c
οὐδέν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Πολέμαρχε, διαφέρει, ἀλλʼ εἰ νῦν οὕτω λέγει Θρασύμαχος, οὕτως αὐτοῦ ἀποδεχώμεθα. καί μοι εἰπέ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε· τοῦτο ἦν ὃ ἐβούλου λέγειν τὸ δίκαιον, τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον δοκοῦν εἶναι τῷ κρείττονι, ἐάντε συμφέρῃ ἐάντε μή; οὕτω σε φῶμεν λέγειν;
“But,” said Clitophon, “by the advantage of the stronger he meant what the stronger believes to be to his advantage. That’s what the weaker must do, and that’s what he laid down as just.”
“But that’s not what was said,” said Polemarchus. 340c
“It makes no difference, Polemarchus,” I said. “If that’s how Thrasymachus puts it now, let’s accept it from him. Tell me, Thrasymachus: is this what you meant by the just—what seems to the stronger to be to the stronger’s advantage, whether it actually is or not? Shall we say that’s what you mean?”
ἥκιστά γε, ἔφη· ἀλλὰ κρείττω με οἴει καλεῖν τὸν ἐξαμαρτάνοντα ὅταν ἐξαμαρτάνῃ;
ἔγωγε, εἶπον, ᾤμην σε τοῦτο λέγειν ὅτε τοὺς ἄρχοντας ὡμολόγεις οὐκ ἀναμαρτήτους εἶναι ἀλλά τι καὶ ἐξαμαρτάνειν. 340d
“Not in the least,” he said. “Do you think I call someone who makes a mistake ‘stronger’ at the very moment he’s making it?”
“I did think,” I said, “that that was what you meant, when you agreed that rulers aren’t infallible but do make some mistakes.” 340d
συκοφάντης γὰρ εἶ, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἐν τοῖς λόγοις· ἐπεὶ αὐτίκα ἰατρὸν καλεῖς σὺ τὸν ἐξαμαρτάνοντα περὶ τοὺς κάμνοντας κατʼ αὐτὸ τοῦτο ὃ ἐξαμαρτάνει; ἢ λογιστικόν, ὃς ἂν ἐν λογισμῷ ἁμαρτάνῃ, τότε ὅταν ἁμαρτάνῃ, κατὰ ταύτην τὴν ἁμαρτίαν; ἀλλʼ οἶμαι λέγομεν τῷ ῥήματι οὕτως, ὅτι ὁ ἰατρὸς ἐξήμαρτεν καὶ ὁ λογιστὴς ἐξήμαρτεν καὶ ὁ γραμματιστής· τὸ δʼ οἶμαι ἕκαστος τούτων, καθʼ ὅσον τοῦτʼ ἔστιν 340e ὃ προσαγορεύομεν αὐτόν, οὐδέποτε ἁμαρτάνει· ὥστε κατὰ τὸν ἀκριβῆ λόγον, ἐπειδὴ καὶ σὺ ἀκριβολογῇ, οὐδεὶς τῶν δημιουργῶν ἁμαρτάνει. ἐπιλειπούσης γὰρ ἐπιστήμης ὁ ἁμαρτάνων ἁμαρτάνει, ἐν ᾧ οὐκ ἔστι δημιουργός· ὥστε δημιουργὸς ἢ σοφὸς ἢ ἄρχων οὐδεὶς ἁμαρτάνει τότε ὅταν ἄρχων ᾖ, ἀλλὰ πᾶς γʼ ἂν εἴποι ὅτι ὁ ἰατρὸς ἥμαρτεν καὶ ὁ ἄρχων ἥμαρτεν.
“That’s because you argue in bad faith, Socrates,” he said, “like a malicious prosecutor. For instance, do you call someone who makes mistakes about the sick a doctor with respect to the very mistake he’s making? Or someone who makes an error in calculation an accountant at the moment he makes it, with respect to that error? We talk that way, I think—we say the doctor made a mistake, and the accountant made a mistake, and the schoolteacher. But in fact, I think, each of these, insofar as he is what 340e we call him, never makes mistakes. So, speaking precisely—since you insist on precision—no craftsman ever makes a mistake. The one who errs errs when his knowledge fails him, and in that respect he isn’t a craftsman. So no craftsman or wise man or ruler makes mistakes at the moment he’s a ruler, even though everyone would say that the doctor made a mistake and the ruler made a mistake.
τοιοῦτον οὖν δή σοι καὶ ἐμὲ ὑπόλαβε νυνδὴ ἀποκρίνεσθαι· τὸ δὲ ἀκριβέστατον ἐκεῖνο τυγχάνει ὄν, τὸν ἄρχοντα, καθʼ 341a ὅσον ἄρχων ἐστίν, μὴ ἁμαρτάνειν, μὴ ἁμαρτάνοντα δὲ τὸ αὑτῷ βέλτιστον τίθεσθαι, τοῦτο δὲ τῷ ἀρχομένῳ ποιητέον. ὥστε ὅπερ ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἔλεγον δίκαιον λέγω, τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος ποιεῖν συμφέρον.
εἶεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε· δοκῶ σοι συκοφαντεῖν;
πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη.
οἴει γάρ με ἐξ ἐπιβουλῆς ἐν τοῖς λόγοις κακουργοῦντά σε ἐρέσθαι ὡς ἠρόμην;
“Take my answer just now in that sense too. But the most precise version of it is this: the ruler, insofar 341a as he is a ruler, makes no mistakes; and making no mistakes, he lays down what’s best for himself, and this is what his subject must do. So, as I said at the start, what I call just is doing what’s to the advantage of the stronger.”
“Very well, Thrasymachus,” I said. “So you think I argue in bad faith?”
“I certainly do,” he said.
“You think I asked the questions I did as a deliberate plot to do you harm in the argument?”
εὖ μὲν οὖν οἶδα, ἔφη. καὶ οὐδέν γέ σοι πλέον ἔσται· 341b οὔτε γὰρ ἄν με λάθοις κακουργῶν, οὔτε μὴ λαθὼν βιάσασθαι τῷ λόγῳ δύναιο.
οὐδέ γʼ ἂν ἐπιχειρήσαιμι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ μακάριε. ἀλλʼ ἵνα μὴ αὖθις ἡμῖν τοιοῦτον ἐγγένηται, διόρισαι ποτέρως λέγεις τὸν ἄρχοντά τε καὶ τὸν κρείττονα, τὸν ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν ἢ τὸν ἀκριβεῖ λόγῳ, ὃ νυνδὴ ἔλεγες, οὗ τὸ συμφέρον κρείττονος ὄντος δίκαιον ἔσται τῷ ἥττονι ποιεῖν.
“I don’t think it, I know it,” he said. “And it won’t get you anywhere. 341b You can’t do me harm without my noticing, and once I’ve noticed, you can’t overpower me in argument.”
“I wouldn’t even try, my dear fellow,” I said. “But so that nothing like this happens to us again, make clear which you mean by the ruler and the stronger: the one who is so called in ordinary speech, or the one in the precise sense you were just talking about, whose advantage, since he’s stronger, it will be just for the weaker to carry out.”
τὸν τῷ ἀκριβεστάτῳ, ἔφη, λόγῳ ἄρχοντα ὄντα. πρὸς ταῦτα κακούργει καὶ συκοφάντει, εἴ τι δύνασαι—οὐδέν σου παρίεμαι—ἀλλʼ οὐ μὴ οἷός τʼ ᾖς. 341c
οἴει γὰρ ἄν με, εἶπον, οὕτω μανῆναι ὥστε ξυρεῖν ἐπιχειρεῖν λέοντα καὶ συκοφαντεῖν Θρασύμαχον;
νῦν γοῦν, ἔφη, ἐπεχείρησας, οὐδὲν ὢν καὶ ταῦτα.
ἅδην, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, τῶν τοιούτων. ἀλλʼ εἰπέ μοι· ὁ τῷ ἀκριβεῖ λόγῳ ἰατρός, ὃν ἄρτι ἔλεγες, πότερον χρηματιστής ἐστιν ἢ τῶν καμνόντων θεραπευτής; καὶ λέγε τὸν τῷ ὄντι ἰατρὸν ὄντα.
τῶν καμνόντων, ἔφη, θεραπευτής.
“The ruler in the most precise sense,” he said. “Do your worst against that with your tricks and bad-faith arguments, if you can—I’m not asking for any mercy. But you won’t be able to.” 341c
“Do you think I’m so mad,” I said, “as to try to shave a lion, or to argue in bad faith against Thrasymachus?”
“You tried just now, anyway,” he said, “useless as you are at it.”
“Enough of this sort of thing,” I said. “But tell me: the doctor in the precise sense, whom you mentioned just now—is he a moneymaker or someone who takes care of the sick? And speak of the one who really is a doctor.”
“Someone who takes care of the sick,” he said.
τί δὲ κυβερνήτης; ὁ ὀρθῶς κυβερνήτης ναυτῶν ἄρχων ἐστὶν ἢ ναύτης;
ναυτῶν ἄρχων. 341d
οὐδὲν οἶμαι τοῦτο ὑπολογιστέον, ὅτι πλεῖ ἐν τῇ νηί, οὐδʼ ἐστὶν κλητέος ναύτης· οὐ γὰρ κατὰ τὸ πλεῖν κυβερνήτης καλεῖται, ἀλλὰ κατὰ τὴν τέχνην καὶ τὴν τῶν ναυτῶν ἀρχήν.
ἀληθῆ, ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν ἑκάστῳ τούτων ἔστιν τι συμφέρον;
πάνυ γε.
οὐ καὶ ἡ τέχνη, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἐπὶ τούτῳ πέφυκεν, ἐπὶ τῷ τὸ συμφέρον ἑκάστῳ ζητεῖν τε καὶ ἐκπορίζειν;
ἐπὶ τούτῳ, ἔφη.
“And what about a ship’s captain? Is the captain, properly speaking, a ruler of sailors or a sailor?”
“A ruler of sailors.” 341d
“I don’t suppose we should take into account the fact that he sails in the ship; that doesn’t mean he should be called a sailor. It isn’t for sailing that he’s called a captain, but for his craft and his rule over the sailors.”
“True,” he said.
“Now, is there something that’s to the advantage of each of these?”
“Certainly.”
“And isn’t the craft,” I said, “by its nature aimed at just this—seeking out and providing for each what’s to its advantage?”
“Yes, at that,” he said.
ἆρʼ οὖν καὶ ἑκάστῃ τῶν τεχνῶν ἔστιν τι συμφέρον ἄλλο ἢ ὅτι μάλιστα τελέαν εἶναι; 341e
πῶς τοῦτο ἐρωτᾷς;
ὥσπερ, ἔφην ἐγώ, εἴ με ἔροιο εἰ ἐξαρκεῖ σώματι εἶναι σώματι ἢ προσδεῖταί τινος, εἴποιμʼ ἂν ὅτι “παντάπασι μὲν οὖν προσδεῖται. διὰ ταῦτα καὶ ἡ τέχνη ἐστὶν ἡ ἰατρικὴ νῦν ηὑρημένη, ὅτι σῶμά ἐστιν πονηρὸν καὶ οὐκ ἐξαρκεῖ αὐτῷ τοιούτῳ εἶναι. τούτῳ οὖν ὅπως ἐκπορίζῃ τὰ συμφέροντα, ἐπὶ τούτῳ παρεσκευάσθη ἡ τέχνη.” ἦ ὀρθῶς σοι δοκῶ, ἔφην, ἂν εἰπεῖν οὕτω λέγων, ἢ οὔ;
ὀρθῶς, ἔφη. 342a
“Then is there something to the advantage of each of the crafts too, other than being as perfect as possible?” 341e
“What do you mean by that question?”
“It’s as if,” I said, “you asked me whether it’s enough for a body to be a body, or whether it needs something more. I’d say: ‘It certainly needs something more. That’s why the craft of medicine has now been discovered: because a body is defective, and it isn’t enough for it to be as it is. So the craft was developed to provide it with what’s to its advantage.’ Do you think I’d be right to say that, or not?”
“Right,” he said. 342a
τί δὲ δή; αὐτὴ ἡ ἰατρική ἐστιν πονηρά, ἢ ἄλλη τις τέχνη ἔσθʼ ὅτι προσδεῖταί τινος ἀρετῆς—ὥσπερ ὀφθαλμοὶ ὄψεως καὶ ὦτα ἀκοῆς καὶ διὰ ταῦτα ἐπʼ αὐτοῖς δεῖ τινος τέχνης τῆς τὸ συμφέρον εἰς αὐτὰ ταῦτα σκεψομένης τε καὶ ἐκποριούσης— ἆρα καὶ ἐν αὐτῇ τῇ τέχνῃ ἔνι τις πονηρία, καὶ δεῖ ἑκάστῃ τέχνῃ ἄλλης τέχνης ἥτις αὐτῇ τὸ συμφέρον σκέψεται, καὶ τῇ σκοπουμένῃ ἑτέρας αὖ τοιαύτης, καὶ τοῦτʼ ἔστιν ἀπέραντον; 342b ἢ αὐτὴ αὑτῇ τὸ συμφέρον σκέψεται;
“Well then: is medicine itself defective? Is there any other craft that needs some further excellence—the way eyes need sight and ears hearing, so that they need some craft over them to consider and provide what’s to their advantage? Is there some defect in the craft itself too, so that each craft needs another craft to consider what’s to its advantage, and the one doing the considering needs yet another like it, and so on without end? 342b Or will each craft consider its own advantage for itself?
ἢ οὔτε αὑτῆς οὔτε ἄλλης προσδεῖται ἐπὶ τὴν αὑτῆς πονηρίαν τὸ συμφέρον σκοπεῖν· οὔτε γὰρ πονηρία οὔτε ἁμαρτία οὐδεμία οὐδεμιᾷ τέχνῃ πάρεστιν, οὐδὲ προσήκει τέχνῃ ἄλλῳ τὸ συμφέρον ζητεῖν ἢ ἐκείνῳ οὗ τέχνη ἐστίν, αὐτὴ δὲ ἀβλαβὴς καὶ ἀκέραιός ἐστιν ὀρθὴ οὖσα, ἕωσπερ ἂν ᾖ ἑκάστη ἀκριβὴς ὅλη ἥπερ ἐστίν; καὶ σκόπει ἐκείνῳ τῷ ἀκριβεῖ λόγῳ· οὕτως ἢ ἄλλως ἔχει;
“Or does it need neither itself nor another to consider what’s to its advantage in view of its own defect? For there’s no defect or error at all in any craft, and it isn’t proper for a craft to seek the advantage of anything other than what it’s the craft of. It is itself unharmed and pure, being correct, as long as each is precisely and wholly what it is. Look at it in that precise sense of yours: is it so or otherwise?”
οὕτως, ἔφη, φαίνεται. 342c
οὐκ ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἰατρικὴ ἰατρικῇ τὸ συμφέρον σκοπεῖ ἀλλὰ σώματι.
ναί, ἔφη.
οὐδὲ ἱππικὴ ἱππικῇ ἀλλʼ ἵπποις· οὐδὲ ἄλλη τέχνη οὐδεμία ἑαυτῇ—οὐδὲ γὰρ προσδεῖται—ἀλλʼ ἐκείνῳ οὗ τέχνη ἐστίν.
φαίνεται, ἔφη, οὕτως.
ἀλλὰ μήν, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἄρχουσί γε αἱ τέχναι καὶ κρατοῦσιν ἐκείνου οὗπέρ εἰσιν τέχναι.
συνεχώρησεν ἐνταῦθα καὶ μάλα μόγις.
οὐκ ἄρα ἐπιστήμη γε οὐδεμία τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον σκοπεῖ οὐδʼ ἐπιτάττει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τοῦ ἥττονός τε καὶ ἀρχομένου 342d ὑπὸ ἑαυτῆς.
“It appears to be so,” he said. 342c
“Then medicine,” I said, “doesn’t consider what’s to the advantage of medicine, but of the body.”
“Yes,” he said.
“And horsemanship doesn’t consider what’s to the advantage of horsemanship, but of horses. No other craft considers its own advantage either—it doesn’t need anything—but that of what it’s the craft of.”
“So it appears,” he said.
“But surely, Thrasymachus, the crafts rule and hold power over what they’re the crafts of.”
He conceded this too, though very reluctantly.
“Then no kind of knowledge considers or orders what’s to the advantage of the stronger, but what’s to the advantage of the weaker, which is ruled 342d by it.”
συνωμολόγησε μὲν καὶ ταῦτα τελευτῶν, ἐπεχείρει δὲ περὶ αὐτὰ μάχεσθαι· ἐπειδὴ δὲ ὡμολόγησεν, ἄλλο τι οὖν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὐδὲ ἰατρὸς οὐδείς, καθʼ ὅσον ἰατρός, τὸ τῷ ἰατρῷ συμφέρον σκοπεῖ οὐδʼ ἐπιτάττει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τῷ κάμνοντι; ὡμολόγηται γὰρ ὁ ἀκριβὴς ἰατρὸς σωμάτων εἶναι ἄρχων ἀλλʼ οὐ χρηματιστής. ἢ οὐχ ὡμολόγηται;
συνέφη.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ὁ κυβερνήτης ὁ ἀκριβὴς ναυτῶν εἶναι ἄρχων ἀλλʼ οὐ ναύτης; 342e
ὡμολόγηται.
In the end he agreed to this too, though he tried to put up a fight over it. When he had agreed, I said, “Then isn’t it also true that no doctor, insofar as he’s a doctor, considers or orders what’s to the doctor’s advantage, but what’s to the patient’s? For we’ve agreed that the doctor in the precise sense is a ruler of bodies and not a moneymaker. Or haven’t we?”
He agreed.
“And that the captain in the precise sense is a ruler of sailors, not a sailor?” 342e
“We have.”
οὐκ ἄρα ὅ γε τοιοῦτος κυβερνήτης τε καὶ ἄρχων τὸ τῷ κυβερνήτῃ συμφέρον σκέψεταί τε καὶ προστάξει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τῷ ναύτῃ τε καὶ ἀρχομένῳ.
συνέφησε μόγις.
οὐκοῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, οὐδὲ ἄλλος οὐδεὶς ἐν οὐδεμιᾷ ἀρχῇ, καθʼ ὅσον ἄρχων ἐστίν, τὸ αὑτῷ συμφέρον σκοπεῖ οὐδʼ ἐπιτάττει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τῷ ἀρχομένῳ καὶ ᾧ ἂν αὐτὸς δημιουργῇ, καὶ πρὸς ἐκεῖνο βλέπων καὶ τὸ ἐκείνῳ συμφέρον καὶ πρέπον, καὶ λέγει ἃ λέγει καὶ ποιεῖ ἃ ποιεῖ ἅπαντα.
“Then a captain and ruler of that kind won’t consider or order what’s to the captain’s advantage, but what’s to the advantage of the sailor, the one he rules.”
He agreed, reluctantly.
“Then, Thrasymachus,” I said, “no one else in any position of rule either, insofar as he’s a ruler, considers or orders what’s to his own advantage, but what’s to the advantage of the one he rules, the one for whom he practices his craft. It’s to that he looks, and to what’s advantageous and fitting for it, in everything he says and everything he does.”
The shepherd and the tyrant
Thrasymachus argues that rulers treat subjects like sheep, and Socrates says true rule serves the ruled.
ἐπειδὴ οὖν ἐνταῦθα ἦμεν τοῦ λόγου καὶ πᾶσι καταφανὲς ἦν ὅτι ὁ τοῦ δικαίου λόγος εἰς τοὐναντίον περιειστήκει, ὁ Θρασύμαχος ἀντὶ τοῦ ἀποκρίνεσθαι, εἰπέ μοι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, τίτθη σοι ἔστιν;
τί δέ; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· οὐκ ἀποκρίνεσθαι χρῆν μᾶλλον ἢ τοιαῦτα ἐρωτᾶν;
ὅτι τοί σε, ἔφη, κορυζῶντα περιορᾷ καὶ οὐκ ἀπομύττει δεόμενον, ὅς γε αὐτῇ οὐδὲ πρόβατα οὐδὲ ποιμένα γιγνώσκεις.
ὅτι δὴ τί μάλιστα; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ. 343b
When we had reached this point in the argument and it was plain to everyone that the account of the just had been turned into its opposite, Thrasymachus, instead of answering, said, “Tell me, Socrates, do you have a nurse?”
“Why?” I said. “Shouldn’t you be answering rather than asking questions like that?”
“Because she lets you go around with a runny nose,” he said, “and doesn’t wipe it when you need it—seeing that, thanks to her, you can’t even tell sheep from shepherd.”
“And why exactly do you say that?” I said. 343b
ὅτι οἴει τοὺς ποιμένας ἢ τοὺς βουκόλους τὸ τῶν προβάτων ἢ τὸ τῶν βοῶν ἀγαθὸν σκοπεῖν καὶ παχύνειν αὐτοὺς καὶ θεραπεύειν πρὸς ἄλλο τι βλέποντας ἢ τὸ τῶν δεσποτῶν ἀγαθὸν καὶ τὸ αὑτῶν, καὶ δὴ καὶ τοὺς ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν ἄρχοντας, οἳ ὡς ἀληθῶς ἄρχουσιν, ἄλλως πως ἡγῇ διανοεῖσθαι πρὸς τοὺς ἀρχομένους ἢ ὥσπερ ἄν τις πρὸς πρόβατα διατεθείη, καὶ ἄλλο τι σκοπεῖν αὐτοὺς διὰ νυκτὸς καὶ ἡμέρας ἢ τοῦτο, 343c ὅθεν αὐτοὶ ὠφελήσονται.
Because you think that shepherds and cowherds consider the good of their sheep or cattle, and fatten them and look after them, with an eye to something other than their masters’ good and their own. And you suppose that rulers in cities too—the ones who truly rule—think about their subjects differently from the way a man would regard his sheep, and that night and day they consider anything other than this: 343c how they themselves will profit.
καὶ οὕτω πόρρω εἶ περί τε τοῦ δικαίου καὶ δικαιοσύνης καὶ ἀδίκου τε καὶ ἀδικίας, ὥστε ἀγνοεῖς ὅτι ἡ μὲν δικαιοσύνη καὶ τὸ δίκαιον ἀλλότριον ἀγαθὸν τῷ ὄντι, τοῦ κρείττονός τε καὶ ἄρχοντος συμφέρον, οἰκεία δὲ τοῦ πειθομένου τε καὶ ὑπηρετοῦντος βλάβη, ἡ δὲ ἀδικία τοὐναντίον, καὶ ἄρχει τῶν ὡς ἀληθῶς εὐηθικῶν τε καὶ δικαίων, οἱ δʼ ἀρχόμενοι ποιοῦσιν τὸ ἐκείνου συμφέρον κρείττονος ὄντος, καὶ εὐδαίμονα ἐκεῖνον ποιοῦσιν ὑπηρετοῦντες 343d αὐτῷ, ἑαυτοὺς δὲ οὐδʼ ὁπωστιοῦν. σκοπεῖσθαι δέ, ὦ εὐηθέστατε Σώκρατες, οὑτωσὶ χρή, ὅτι δίκαιος ἀνὴρ ἀδίκου πανταχοῦ ἔλαττον ἔχει.
And you’re so far off about the just and justice, and the unjust and injustice, that you don’t realize that justice and the just are really someone else’s good—the advantage of the stronger, the ruler—and a harm to the one who obeys and serves. Injustice is the opposite: it rules over those who are truly naive, the just, and the ruled do what’s to the advantage of the ruler, since he’s the stronger, and by serving 343d him they make him happy, but themselves not in the least. You should look at it this way, my most naive Socrates: a just man always gets less than an unjust one.
πρῶτον μὲν ἐν τοῖς πρὸς ἀλλήλους συμβολαίοις, ὅπου ἂν ὁ τοιοῦτος τῷ τοιούτῳ κοινωνήσῃ, οὐδαμοῦ ἂν εὕροις ἐν τῇ διαλύσει τῆς κοινωνίας πλέον ἔχοντα τὸν δίκαιον τοῦ ἀδίκου ἀλλʼ ἔλαττον· ἔπειτα ἐν τοῖς πρὸς τὴν πόλιν, ὅταν τέ τινες εἰσφοραὶ ὦσιν, ὁ μὲν δίκαιος ἀπὸ τῶν ἴσων πλέον εἰσφέρει, ὁ δʼ ἔλαττον, ὅταν τε λήψεις, 343e ὁ μὲν οὐδέν, ὁ δὲ πολλὰ κερδαίνει. καὶ γὰρ ὅταν ἀρχήν τινα ἄρχῃ ἑκάτερος, τῷ μὲν δικαίῳ ὑπάρχει, καὶ εἰ μηδεμία ἄλλη ζημία, τά γε οἰκεῖα διʼ ἀμέλειαν μοχθηροτέρως ἔχειν, ἐκ δὲ τοῦ δημοσίου μηδὲν ὠφελεῖσθαι διὰ τὸ δίκαιον εἶναι, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις ἀπεχθέσθαι τοῖς τε οἰκείοις καὶ τοῖς γνωρίμοις, ὅταν μηδὲν ἐθέλῃ αὐτοῖς ὑπηρετεῖν παρὰ τὸ δίκαιον· τῷ δὲ ἀδίκῳ πάντα τούτων τἀναντία ὑπάρχει.
First, in private contracts: wherever one of this sort goes into partnership with one of the other, you’ll never find, when the partnership is dissolved, the just man with more than the unjust, but less. Then in dealings with the city: when there are taxes to pay, the just man pays more on the same property and the other less; and when there’s something to be received, 343e the one gains nothing and the other a great deal. And when each of them holds some office, the just man’s lot, even if he suffers no other penalty, is that his own affairs go downhill from neglect, while he gets no benefit from public funds because he’s just; and on top of that he’s hated by his relatives and acquaintances when he refuses to do them any favor that goes against what’s just. For the unjust man it’s the exact opposite in every respect.
λέγω γὰρ 344a ὅνπερ νυνδὴ ἔλεγον, τὸν μεγάλα δυνάμενον πλεονεκτεῖν· τοῦτον οὖν σκόπει, εἴπερ βούλει κρίνειν ὅσῳ μᾶλλον συμφέρει ἰδίᾳ αὑτῷ ἄδικον εἶναι ἢ τὸ δίκαιον. πάντων δὲ ῥᾷστα μαθήσῃ, ἐὰν ἐπὶ τὴν τελεωτάτην ἀδικίαν ἔλθῃς, ἣ τὸν μὲν ἀδικήσαντα εὐδαιμονέστατον ποιεῖ, τοὺς δὲ ἀδικηθέντας καὶ ἀδικῆσαι οὐκ ἂν ἐθέλοντας ἀθλιωτάτους.
I mean 344a the man I was talking about just now, the one with the power to take more than his share on a large scale. Look at him, if you want to judge how much more it profits him personally to be unjust than to be just. You’ll see it most easily of all if you go to the most complete injustice, which makes the wrongdoer happiest, and those who are wronged, and who wouldn’t be willing to do wrong themselves, most miserable.
ἔστιν δὲ τοῦτο τυραννίς, ἣ οὐ κατὰ σμικρὸν τἀλλότρια καὶ λάθρᾳ καὶ βίᾳ ἀφαιρεῖται, καὶ ἱερὰ καὶ ὅσια καὶ ἴδια καὶ δημόσια, ἀλλὰ 344b συλλήβδην· ὧν ἐφʼ ἑκάστῳ μέρει ὅταν τις ἀδικήσας μὴ λάθῃ, ζημιοῦταί τε καὶ ὀνείδη ἔχει τὰ μέγιστα—καὶ γὰρ ἱερόσυλοι καὶ ἀνδραποδισταὶ καὶ τοιχωρύχοι καὶ ἀποστερηταὶ καὶ κλέπται οἱ κατὰ μέρη ἀδικοῦντες τῶν τοιούτων κακουργημάτων καλοῦνται—ἐπειδὰν δέ τις πρὸς τοῖς τῶν πολιτῶν χρήμασιν καὶ αὐτοὺς ἀνδραποδισάμενος δουλώσηται, ἀντὶ τούτων τῶν αἰσχρῶν ὀνομάτων εὐδαίμονες καὶ μακάριοι 344c κέκληνται, οὐ μόνον ὑπὸ τῶν πολιτῶν ἀλλὰ καὶ ὑπὸ τῶν ἄλλων ὅσοι ἂν πύθωνται αὐτὸν τὴν ὅλην ἀδικίαν ἠδικηκότα· οὐ γὰρ τὸ ποιεῖν τὰ ἄδικα ἀλλὰ τὸ πάσχειν φοβούμενοι ὀνειδίζουσιν οἱ ὀνειδίζοντες τὴν ἀδικίαν.
That is tyranny, which takes away other people’s property by stealth and by force—sacred and consecrated, private and public—not bit by bit but 344b all at once. When someone is caught committing any single part of this injustice, he’s punished and meets with the deepest disgrace: those who commit such crimes piecemeal are called temple-robbers, kidnappers, burglars, swindlers and thieves. But when someone, on top of seizing the citizens’ property, kidnaps and enslaves the citizens themselves, instead of these shameful names he’s called happy and blessed, 344c not only by the citizens but by everyone else who hears that he has committed injustice in full. For those who condemn injustice do so not because they’re afraid of doing unjust things, but because they’re afraid of suffering them.
οὕτως, ὦ Σώκρατες, καὶ ἰσχυρότερον καὶ ἐλευθεριώτερον καὶ δεσποτικώτερον ἀδικία δικαιοσύνης ἐστὶν ἱκανῶς γιγνομένη, καὶ ὅπερ ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἔλεγον, τὸ μὲν τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον τὸ δίκαιον τυγχάνει ὄν, τὸ δʼ ἄδικον ἑαυτῷ λυσιτελοῦν τε καὶ συμφέρον. 344d
So, Socrates, injustice, when it’s on a large enough scale, is stronger, freer and more masterful than justice; and, as I said at the start, the just is what’s to the advantage of the stronger, while the unjust is what profits and benefits oneself. 344d
ταῦτα εἰπὼν ὁ Θρασύμαχος ἐν νῷ εἶχεν ἀπιέναι, ὥσπερ βαλανεὺς ἡμῶν καταντλήσας κατὰ τῶν ὤτων ἁθρόον καὶ πολὺν τὸν λόγον· οὐ μὴν εἴασάν γε αὐτὸν οἱ παρόντες, ἀλλʼ ἠνάγκασαν ὑπομεῖναί τε καὶ παρασχεῖν τῶν εἰρημένων λόγον. καὶ δὴ ἔγωγε καὶ αὐτὸς πάνυ ἐδεόμην τε καὶ εἶπον· ὦ δαιμόνιε Θρασύμαχε, οἷον ἐμβαλὼν λόγον ἐν νῷ ἔχεις ἀπιέναι πρὶν διδάξαι ἱκανῶς ἢ μαθεῖν εἴτε οὕτως εἴτε ἄλλως 344e ἔχει; ἢ σμικρὸν οἴει ἐπιχειρεῖν πρᾶγμα διορίζεσθαι ὅλου βίου διαγωγήν, ᾗ ἂν διαγόμενος ἕκαστος ἡμῶν λυσιτελεστάτην ζωὴν ζῴη;
Having said this, Thrasymachus meant to leave, like a bath attendant who had drenched our ears with his speech in one great flood. But those present wouldn’t let him; they made him stay and give an account of what he’d said. I myself begged him hard as well, and said, “Thrasymachus, you extraordinary man, after hurling a speech like that at us, do you mean to leave before properly teaching us, or learning, whether it’s so or otherwise? 344e Or do you think it’s a small matter you’re trying to settle—the conduct of a whole life, the way each of us can live the most profitable life?”
ἐγὼ γὰρ οἶμαι, ἔφη ὁ Θρασύμαχος, τουτὶ ἄλλως ἔχειν;
ἔοικας, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ—ἤτοι ἡμῶν γε οὐδὲν κήδεσθαι, οὐδέ τι φροντίζειν εἴτε χεῖρον εἴτε βέλτιον βιωσόμεθα ἀγνοοῦντες ὃ σὺ φῂς εἰδέναι.
“And do you suppose I think otherwise?” said Thrasymachus.
“You seem to,” I said. “Or else you don’t care about us at all, and aren’t the least bit concerned whether we’ll live worse or better in our ignorance of what you claim to know.
ἀλλʼ, ὠγαθέ, προθυμοῦ καὶ ἡμῖν ἐνδείξασθαι—οὔτοι 345a κακῶς σοι κείσεται ὅτι ἂν ἡμᾶς τοσούσδε ὄντας εὐεργετήσῃς—ἐγὼ γὰρ δή σοι λέγω τό γʼ ἐμόν, ὅτι οὐ πείθομαι οὐδʼ οἶμαι ἀδικίαν δικαιοσύνης κερδαλεώτερον εἶναι, οὐδʼ ἐὰν ἐᾷ τις αὐτὴν καὶ μὴ διακωλύῃ πράττειν ἃ βούλεται. ἀλλʼ, ὠγαθέ, ἔστω μὲν ἄδικος, δυνάσθω δὲ ἀδικεῖν ἢ τῷ λανθάνειν ἢ τῷ διαμάχεσθαι, ὅμως ἐμέ γε οὐ πείθει ὡς ἔστι τῆς δικαιοσύνης κερδαλεώτερον. ταῦτʼ οὖν 345b καὶ ἕτερος ἴσως τις ἡμῶν πέπονθεν, οὐ μόνος ἐγώ· πεῖσον οὖν, ὦ μακάριε, ἱκανῶς ἡμᾶς ὅτι οὐκ ὀρθῶς βουλευόμεθα δικαιοσύνην ἀδικίας περὶ πλείονος ποιούμενοι.
“Come on, my good man, be willing to show us too—it won’t 345a be a bad investment for you, whatever favor you do for so many of us. For I’ll tell you where I stand: I’m not persuaded, and I don’t believe that injustice is more profitable than justice, not even if it’s given free rein and not prevented from doing what it wants. My good man, let someone be unjust, and let him have the power to do wrong, either by going undetected or by fighting it out: still, he doesn’t convince me that it’s more profitable than justice. Perhaps 345b someone else here feels the same way, not just me. So convince us properly, my dear fellow, that we’re wrong to value justice more than injustice.”
καὶ πῶς, ἔφη, σὲ πείσω; εἰ γὰρ οἷς νυνδὴ ἔλεγον μὴ πέπεισαι, τί σοι ἔτι ποιήσω; ἢ εἰς τὴν ψυχὴν φέρων ἐνθῶ τὸν λόγον;
“And how am I to convince you?” he said. “If you aren’t convinced by what I said just now, what more can I do for you? Am I to take the argument and stuff it into your soul?”
μὰ Δίʼ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, μὴ σύ γε· ἀλλὰ πρῶτον μέν, ἃ ἂν εἴπῃς, ἔμμενε τούτοις, ἢ ἐὰν μετατιθῇ, φανερῶς μετατίθεσο καὶ ἡμᾶς μὴ ἐξαπάτα. νῦν δὲ ὁρᾷς, ὦ Θρασύμαχε—ἔτι 345c γὰρ τὰ ἔμπροσθεν ἐπισκεψώμεθα—ὅτι τὸν ὡς ἀληθῶς ἰατρὸν τὸ πρῶτον ὁριζόμενος τὸν ὡς ἀληθῶς ποιμένα οὐκέτι ᾤου δεῖν ὕστερον ἀκριβῶς φυλάξαι, ἀλλὰ πιαίνειν οἴει αὐτὸν τὰ πρόβατα, καθʼ ὅσον ποιμήν ἐστιν, οὐ πρὸς τὸ τῶν προβάτων βέλτιστον βλέποντα ἀλλʼ, ὥσπερ δαιτυμόνα τινὰ καὶ μέλλοντα ἑστιάσεσθαι, πρὸς τὴν εὐωχίαν, ἢ αὖ πρὸς τὸ 345d ἀποδόσθαι, ὥσπερ χρηματιστὴν ἀλλʼ οὐ ποιμένα.
“By Zeus, no, don’t do that!” I said. “But first, stick to whatever you say—or if you change position, change it openly and don’t deceive us. As it is, Thrasymachus, you see—let’s 345c go back over what came before—that although you first defined the true doctor, you didn’t think you needed to keep strictly to the true shepherd later on. You think that he, insofar as he’s a shepherd, fattens his sheep not with an eye to what’s best for the sheep but, like a dinner guest about to be treated to a banquet, with an eye to the feast—or else to 345d selling them, like a moneymaker and not a shepherd.
τῇ δὲ ποιμενικῇ οὐ δήπου ἄλλου του μέλει ἢ ἐφʼ ᾧ τέτακται, ὅπως τούτῳ τὸ βέλτιστον ἐκποριεῖ—ἐπεὶ τά γε αὑτῆς ὥστʼ εἶναι βελτίστη ἱκανῶς δήπου ἐκπεπόρισται, ἕως γʼ ἂν μηδὲν ἐνδέῃ τοῦ ποιμενικὴ εἶναι—οὕτω δὲ ᾤμην ἔγωγε νυνδὴ ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι ἡμῖν ὁμολογεῖν πᾶσαν ἀρχήν, καθʼ ὅσον ἀρχή, μηδενὶ ἄλλῳ τὸ βέλτιστον σκοπεῖσθαι ἢ ἐκείνῳ, τῷ 345e ἀρχομένῳ τε καὶ θεραπευομένῳ, ἔν τε πολιτικῇ καὶ ἰδιωτικῇ ἀρχῇ. σὺ δὲ τοὺς ἄρχοντας ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν, τοὺς ὡς ἀληθῶς ἄρχοντας, ἑκόντας οἴει ἄρχειν;
“But the shepherd’s craft surely cares about nothing other than providing what’s best for what it’s been put in charge of—since its own affairs, so that it’s at its best, are surely provided for well enough, as long as it lacks nothing of being the shepherd’s craft. That’s why I thought just now that we had to agree that every kind of rule, insofar as it’s rule, considers what’s best for nothing other than that 345e which it rules and looks after, whether in public or in private rule. But do you think that the rulers in cities, the ones who truly rule, rule willingly?”
μὰ Δίʼ οὔκ, ἔφη, ἀλλʼ εὖ οἶδα.
τί δέ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε; τὰς ἄλλας ἀρχὰς οὐκ ἐννοεῖς ὅτι οὐδεὶς ἐθέλει ἄρχειν ἑκών, ἀλλὰ μισθὸν αἰτοῦσιν, ὡς οὐχὶ αὐτοῖσιν ὠφελίαν ἐσομένην ἐκ τοῦ ἄρχειν ἀλλὰ 346a τοῖς ἀρχομένοις; ἐπεὶ τοσόνδε εἰπέ· οὐχὶ ἑκάστην μέντοι φαμὲν ἑκάστοτε τῶν τεχνῶν τούτῳ ἑτέραν εἶναι, τῷ ἑτέραν τὴν δύναμιν ἔχειν; καί, ὦ μακάριε, μὴ παρὰ δόξαν ἀποκρίνου, ἵνα τι καὶ περαίνωμεν.
ἀλλὰ τούτῳ, ἔφη, ἑτέρα.
“By Zeus, I don’t think it,” he said. “I know it.”
“Really, Thrasymachus?” I said. “Don’t you notice that in the other kinds of office no one is willing to rule of his own accord? They ask for pay, on the assumption that the benefit from ruling will go not to themselves but 346a to those they rule. Tell me this much: don’t we say that each of the crafts is different from the others in having a different power? And, my dear fellow, don’t answer against what you really think, so that we can get somewhere.”
“Yes,” he said, “that’s what makes it different.”
οὐκοῦν καὶ ὠφελίαν ἑκάστη τούτων ἰδίαν τινὰ ἡμῖν παρέχεται ἀλλʼ οὐ κοινήν, οἷον ἰατρικὴ μὲν ὑγίειαν, κυβερνητικὴ δὲ σωτηρίαν ἐν τῷ πλεῖν, καὶ αἱ ἄλλαι οὕτω;
πάνυ γε. 346b
οὐκοῦν καὶ μισθωτικὴ μισθόν; αὕτη γὰρ αὐτῆς ἡ δύναμις· ἢ τὴν ἰατρικὴν σὺ καὶ τὴν κυβερνητικὴν τὴν αὐτὴν καλεῖς; ἢ ἐάνπερ βούλῃ ἀκριβῶς διορίζειν, ὥσπερ ὑπέθου, οὐδέν τι μᾶλλον, ἐάν τις κυβερνῶν ὑγιὴς γίγνηται διὰ τὸ συμφέρον αὐτῷ πλεῖν ἐν τῇ θαλάττῃ, ἕνεκα τούτου καλεῖς μᾶλλον αὐτὴν ἰατρικήν;
οὐ δῆτα, ἔφη.
“And each of them provides us with some particular benefit, not a common one—medicine health, for instance, navigation safety at sea, and the others likewise?”
“Certainly.” 346b
“And wage-earning provides wages? That’s its power. Or do you call medicine and navigation the same thing? Or rather, if you want to make precise distinctions, as you proposed, and a captain becomes healthy because sailing on the sea is good for him, would you call his craft medicine on that account?”
“Of course not,” he said.
οὐδέ γʼ, οἶμαι, τὴν μισθωτικήν, ἐὰν ὑγιαίνῃ τις μισθαρνῶν.
οὐ δῆτα.
τί δέ; τὴν ἰατρικὴν μισθαρνητικήν, ἐὰν ἰώμενός τις μισθαρνῇ; 346c
οὐκ ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν τήν γε ὠφελίαν ἑκάστης τῆς τέχνης ἰδίαν ὡμολογήσαμεν εἶναι;
ἔστω, ἔφη.
ἥντινα ἄρα ὠφελίαν κοινῇ ὠφελοῦνται πάντες οἱ δημιουργοί, δῆλον ὅτι κοινῇ τινι τῷ αὐτῷ προσχρώμενοι ἀπʼ ἐκείνου ὠφελοῦνται.
ἔοικεν, ἔφη.
φαμὲν δέ γε τὸ μισθὸν ἀρνυμένους ὠφελεῖσθαι τοὺς δημιουργοὺς ἀπὸ τοῦ προσχρῆσθαι τῇ μισθωτικῇ τέχνῃ γίγνεσθαι αὐτοῖς.
συνέφη μόγις. 346d
“Nor, I think, would you call wage-earning medicine if someone is healthy while earning wages.”
“Of course not.”
“Well then, would you call medicine wage-earning if someone earns wages while healing?” 346c
He said no.
“And we agreed that the benefit of each craft is particular to it?”
“Granted,” he said.
“Then whatever benefit all craftsmen receive in common, they clearly get from making additional use of some one thing that’s common to them all.”
“It seems so,” he said.
“And we say that craftsmen benefit by earning wages because they make additional use of the craft of wage-earning.”
He agreed, reluctantly. 346d
οὐκ ἄρα ἀπὸ τῆς αὑτοῦ τέχνης ἑκάστῳ αὕτη ἡ ὠφελία ἐστίν, ἡ τοῦ μισθοῦ λῆψις, ἀλλʼ, εἰ δεῖ ἀκριβῶς σκοπεῖσθαι, ἡ μὲν ἰατρικὴ ὑγίειαν ποιεῖ, ἡ δὲ μισθαρνητικὴ μισθόν, καὶ ἡ μὲν οἰκοδομικὴ οἰκίαν, ἡ δὲ μισθαρνητικὴ αὐτῇ ἑπομένη μισθόν, καὶ αἱ ἄλλαι πᾶσαι οὕτως τὸ αὑτῆς ἑκάστη ἔργον ἐργάζεται καὶ ὠφελεῖ ἐκεῖνο ἐφʼ ᾧ τέτακται. ἐὰν δὲ μὴ μισθὸς αὐτῇ προσγίγνηται, ἔσθʼ ὅτι ὠφελεῖται ὁ δημιουργὸς ἀπὸ τῆς τέχνης;
οὐ φαίνεται, ἔφη. 346e
ἆρʼ οὖν οὐδʼ ὠφελεῖ τότε, ὅταν προῖκα ἐργάζηται;
οἶμαι ἔγωγε.
“Then this benefit, receiving wages, doesn’t come to each of them from his own craft. If we’re to examine it precisely, medicine produces health, and wage-earning wages; building produces a house, and wage-earning, which goes along with it, wages; and all the others likewise each do their own work and benefit what they’ve been put in charge of. But if no wage is added, does the craftsman get any benefit from his craft?”
“It doesn’t appear so,” he said. 346e
“Then does he confer no benefit either, when he works for nothing?”
“I think he does confer benefit.”
οὐκοῦν, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, τοῦτο ἤδη δῆλον, ὅτι οὐδεμία τέχνη οὐδὲ ἀρχὴ τὸ αὑτῇ ὠφέλιμον παρασκευάζει, ἀλλʼ, ὅπερ πάλαι ἐλέγομεν, τὸ τῷ ἀρχομένῳ καὶ παρασκευάζει καὶ ἐπιτάττει, τὸ ἐκείνου συμφέρον ἥττονος ὄντος σκοποῦσα, ἀλλʼ οὐ τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος.
“So, Thrasymachus, this much is now clear: no craft and no kind of rule provides what’s beneficial to itself. As we’ve been saying for some time, it provides and orders what’s beneficial to the one it rules, considering the advantage of the weaker, not of the stronger.
διὰ δὴ ταῦτα ἔγωγε, ὦ φίλε Θρασύμαχε, καὶ ἄρτι ἔλεγον μηδένα ἐθέλειν ἑκόντα ἄρχειν καὶ τὰ ἀλλότρια κακὰ μεταχειρίζεσθαι ἀνορθοῦντα, 347a ἀλλὰ μισθὸν αἰτεῖν, ὅτι ὁ μέλλων καλῶς τῇ τέχνῃ πράξειν οὐδέποτε αὑτῷ τὸ βέλτιστον πράττει οὐδʼ ἐπιτάττει κατὰ τὴν τέχνην ἐπιτάττων, ἀλλὰ τῷ ἀρχομένῳ· ὧν δὴ ἕνεκα, ὡς ἔοικε, μισθὸν δεῖν ὑπάρχειν τοῖς μέλλουσιν ἐθελήσειν ἄρχειν, ἢ ἀργύριον ἢ τιμήν, ἢ ζημίαν ἐὰν μὴ ἄρχῃ.
“That’s exactly why, my dear Thrasymachus, I said just now that no one is willing to rule of his own accord and take other people’s troubles in hand to set them right, 347a but asks for pay: anyone who is going to practice his craft well never does or orders what’s best for himself, when he gives orders according to his craft, but what’s best for the one he rules. That’s why, it seems, there has to be pay for those who are going to be willing to rule—money, or honor, or a penalty if he doesn’t rule.”
πῶς τοῦτο λέγεις, ὦ Σώκρατες; ἔφη ὁ Γλαύκων· τοὺς μὲν γὰρ δύο μισθοὺς γιγνώσκω, τὴν δὲ ζημίαν ἥντινα λέγεις καὶ ὡς ἐν μισθοῦ μέρει εἴρηκας, οὐ συνῆκα.
τὸν τῶν βελτίστων ἄρα μισθόν, ἔφην, οὐ συνιεῖς, διʼ ὃν 347b ἄρχουσιν οἱ ἐπιεικέστατοι, ὅταν ἐθέλωσιν ἄρχειν. ἢ οὐκ οἶσθα ὅτι τὸ φιλότιμόν τε καὶ φιλάργυρον εἶναι ὄνειδος λέγεταί τε καὶ ἔστιν;
ἔγωγε, ἔφη.
“What do you mean by that, Socrates?” said Glaucon. “The two kinds of pay I recognize, but I don’t understand what this penalty is, or how you can count it as a kind of pay.”
“Then you don’t understand the pay of the best people,” I said, “the pay for which 347b the most decent people rule, when they’re willing to rule. Don’t you know that loving honor and loving money are called disgraceful, and are?”
“I do,” he said.
διὰ ταῦτα τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὔτε χρημάτων ἕνεκα ἐθέλουσιν ἄρχειν οἱ ἀγαθοὶ οὔτε τιμῆς· οὔτε γὰρ φανερῶς πραττόμενοι τῆς ἀρχῆς ἕνεκα μισθὸν μισθωτοὶ βούλονται κεκλῆσθαι, οὔτε λάθρᾳ αὐτοὶ ἐκ τῆς ἀρχῆς λαμβάνοντες κλέπται. οὐδʼ αὖ τιμῆς ἕνεκα· οὐ γάρ εἰσι φιλότιμοι. δεῖ δὴ 347c αὐτοῖς ἀνάγκην προσεῖναι καὶ ζημίαν, εἰ μέλλουσιν ἐθέλειν ἄρχειν—ὅθεν κινδυνεύει τὸ ἑκόντα ἐπὶ τὸ ἄρχειν ἰέναι ἀλλὰ μὴ ἀνάγκην περιμένειν αἰσχρὸν νενομίσθαι—τῆς δὲ ζημίας μεγίστη τὸ ὑπὸ πονηροτέρου ἄρχεσθαι, ἐὰν μὴ αὐτὸς ἐθέλῃ ἄρχειν· ἣν δείσαντές μοι φαίνονται ἄρχειν, ὅταν ἄρχωσιν, οἱ ἐπιεικεῖς, καὶ τότε ἔρχονται ἐπὶ τὸ ἄρχειν οὐχ ὡς ἐπʼ ἀγαθόν τι ἰόντες οὐδʼ ὡς εὐπαθήσοντες ἐν αὐτῷ, ἀλλʼ 347d ὡς ἐπʼ ἀναγκαῖον καὶ οὐκ ἔχοντες ἑαυτῶν βελτίοσιν ἐπιτρέψαι οὐδὲ ὁμοίοις.
“That’s why,” I said, “good people aren’t willing to rule for the sake of money or honor. They don’t want to be called hirelings for openly taking pay for ruling, or thieves for secretly helping themselves from their office. Nor will they rule for honor, since they don’t love honor. So compulsion 347c and a penalty have to be applied to them if they’re going to be willing to rule—which is probably why going to rule willingly, instead of waiting to be compelled, has come to be thought shameful. And the greatest penalty is to be ruled by someone worse, if one isn’t willing to rule oneself. It’s from fear of this, it seems to me, that decent people rule, when they do rule. And then they go to it not as to something good, or expecting to enjoy themselves in it, but 347d as to something necessary, since they have no one better than themselves, or even as good, to entrust it to.
ἐπεὶ κινδυνεύει πόλις ἀνδρῶν ἀγαθῶν εἰ γένοιτο, περιμάχητον ἂν εἶναι τὸ μὴ ἄρχειν ὥσπερ νυνὶ τὸ ἄρχειν, καὶ ἐνταῦθʼ ἂν καταφανὲς γενέσθαι ὅτι τῷ ὄντι ἀληθινὸς ἄρχων οὐ πέφυκε τὸ αὑτῷ συμφέρον σκοπεῖσθαι ἀλλὰ τὸ τῷ ἀρχομένῳ· ὥστε πᾶς ἂν ὁ γιγνώσκων τὸ ὠφελεῖσθαι μᾶλλον ἕλοιτο ὑπʼ ἄλλου ἢ ἄλλον ὠφελῶν πράγματα ἔχειν. τοῦτο μὲν οὖν ἔγωγε οὐδαμῇ συγχωρῶ 347e Θρασυμάχῳ, ὡς τὸ δίκαιόν ἐστιν τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον. ἀλλὰ τοῦτο μὲν δὴ καὶ εἰς αὖθις σκεψόμεθα· πολὺ δέ μοι δοκεῖ μεῖζον εἶναι ὃ νῦν λέγει Θρασύμαχος, τὸν τοῦ ἀδίκου βίον φάσκων εἶναι κρείττω ἢ τὸν τοῦ δικαίου. σὺ οὖν ποτέρως, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Γλαύκων, αἱρῇ; καὶ πότερον ἀληθεστέρως δοκεῖ σοι λέγεσθαι;
“For if a city of good men came to be, it’s likely that people would fight to avoid ruling, as they now fight to rule; and there it would become plain that a true ruler really isn’t by nature the kind to consider his own advantage, but that of the one he rules. So anyone who knew this would choose to be benefited by another rather than to go to the trouble of benefiting someone else. So on this point I don’t concede 347e to Thrasymachus in the slightest that the just is the advantage of the stronger. But we’ll look into that again another time. What Thrasymachus is saying now—when he claims that the unjust man’s life is better than the just man’s—seems to me much more important. Which do you choose, Glaucon?” I said. “And which view do you think is closer to the truth?”
τὸν τοῦ δικαίου ἔγωγε λυσιτελέστερον βίον εἶναι.
ἤκουσας, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὅσα ἄρτι Θρασύμαχος ἀγαθὰ διῆλθεν τῷ τοῦ ἀδίκου;
ἤκουσα, ἔφη, ἀλλʼ οὐ πείθομαι.
βούλει οὖν αὐτὸν πείθωμεν, ἂν δυνώμεθά πῃ ἐξευρεῖν, ὡς οὐκ ἀληθῆ λέγει;
πῶς γὰρ οὐ βούλομαι; ἦ δʼ ὅς.
“For my part, I think the just man’s life is more profitable.”
“Did you hear,” I said, “all the good things Thrasymachus just listed for the unjust man’s life?”
“I heard,” he said, “but I’m not persuaded.”
“Then do you want us to persuade him, if we can find some way, that what he says isn’t true?”
“Of course I want to,” he said.
ἂν μὲν τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἀντικατατείναντες λέγωμεν αὐτῷ λόγον παρὰ λόγον, ὅσα αὖ ἀγαθὰ ἔχει τὸ δίκαιον εἶναι, καὶ αὖθις οὗτος, καὶ ἄλλον ἡμεῖς, ἀριθμεῖν δεήσει 348b τἀγαθὰ καὶ μετρεῖν ὅσα ἑκάτεροι ἐν ἑκατέρῳ λέγομεν, καὶ ἤδη δικαστῶν τινων τῶν διακρινούντων δεησόμεθα· ἂν δὲ ὥσπερ ἄρτι ἀνομολογούμενοι πρὸς ἀλλήλους σκοπῶμεν, ἅμα αὐτοί τε δικασταὶ καὶ ῥήτορες ἐσόμεθα.
πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη.
ὁποτέρως οὖν σοι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἀρέσκει.
οὕτως, ἔφη.
“Well then,” I said, “if we match him speech for speech, setting out in our turn all the good things there are in being just, and then he replies, and then we give another speech, we’ll have to count 348b the good things and measure how many each side mentions in each speech, and then we’ll need some judges to decide between us. But if we examine the matter as we did just now, by reaching agreement with each other, we’ll be judges and advocates ourselves at the same time.”
“Certainly,” he said.
“So which way do you prefer?” I said.
“This way,” he said.
Is injustice wiser and stronger?
Socrates argues against Thrasymachus that justice, not injustice, is wise, good and strong.
ἴθι δή, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἀπόκριναι ἡμῖν ἐξ ἀρχῆς. τὴν τελέαν ἀδικίαν τελέας οὔσης δικαιοσύνης λυσιτελεστέραν φῂς εἶναι; 348c
πάνυ μὲν οὖν καὶ φημί, ἔφη, καὶ διʼ ἅ, εἴρηκα.
φέρε δή, τὸ τοιόνδε περὶ αὐτῶν πῶς λέγεις; τὸ μέν που ἀρετὴν αὐτοῖν καλεῖς, τὸ δὲ κακίαν;
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
οὐκοῦν τὴν μὲν δικαιοσύνην ἀρετήν, τὴν δὲ ἀδικίαν κακίαν;
εἰκός γʼ, ἔφη, ὦ ἥδιστε, ἐπειδή γε καὶ λέγω ἀδικίαν μὲν λυσιτελεῖν, δικαιοσύνην δʼ οὔ.
ἀλλὰ τί μήν;
τοὐναντίον, ἦ δʼ ὅς.
“Come on, then, Thrasymachus,” I said, “answer us from the beginning. You say that perfect injustice is more profitable than perfect justice?” 348c
“I certainly do say so,” he said, “and I’ve told you why.”
“Well then, how would you put the following about them? I suppose you call one of the two an excellence and the other a badness?”
“Of course.”
“Justice the excellence, and injustice the badness?”
“Oh, very likely, my sweet friend,” he said, “when I’m saying that injustice pays and justice doesn’t!”
“Then what?”
“The opposite,” he said.
ἦ τὴν δικαιοσύνην κακίαν;
οὔκ, ἀλλὰ πάνυ γενναίαν εὐήθειαν. 348d
τὴν ἀδικίαν ἄρα κακοήθειαν καλεῖς;
οὔκ, ἀλλʼ εὐβουλίαν, ἔφη.
ἦ καὶ φρόνιμοί σοι, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, δοκοῦσιν εἶναι καὶ ἀγαθοὶ οἱ ἄδικοι;
οἵ γε τελέως, ἔφη, οἷοί τε ἀδικεῖν, πόλεις τε καὶ ἔθνη δυνάμενοι ἀνθρώπων ὑφʼ ἑαυτοὺς ποιεῖσθαι· σὺ δὲ οἴει με ἴσως τοὺς τὰ βαλλάντια ἀποτέμνοντας λέγειν. λυσιτελεῖ μὲν οὖν, ἦ δʼ ὅς, καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα, ἐάνπερ λανθάνῃ· ἔστι δὲ οὐκ ἄξια λόγου, ἀλλʼ ἃ νυνδὴ ἔλεγον. 348e
“You mean justice is a badness?”
“No, but a thoroughly noble good-naturedness.” 348d
“Then you call injustice ill-naturedness?”
“No—good judgment,” he said.
“Do you actually think the unjust are intelligent and good, Thrasymachus?”
“The ones who can do wrong to perfection, at any rate,” he said, “who are able to bring whole cities and nations of people under their power. You probably think I mean purse-snatchers. Not that that sort of thing doesn’t pay too,” he said, “so long as you don’t get caught. But it isn’t worth mentioning next to what I was just describing.” 348e
τοῦτο μέν, ἔφην, οὐκ ἀγνοῶ ὃ βούλει λέγειν, ἀλλὰ τόδε ἐθαύμασα, εἰ ἐν ἀρετῆς καὶ σοφίας τιθεῖς μέρει τὴν ἀδικίαν, τὴν δὲ δικαιοσύνην ἐν τοῖς ἐναντίοις.
ἀλλὰ πάνυ οὕτω τίθημι.
τοῦτο, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἤδη στερεώτερον, ὦ ἑταῖρε, καὶ οὐκέτι ῥᾴδιον ἔχειν ὅτι τις εἴπῃ.
“I know what you mean,” I said. “What surprised me was that you rank injustice with excellence and wisdom, and justice with their opposites.”
“But that’s exactly how I rank them.”
“Now that’s a tougher position, my friend,” I said, “and it’s no longer easy to know what to say.
εἰ γὰρ λυσιτελεῖν μὲν τὴν ἀδικίαν ἐτίθεσο, κακίαν μέντοι ἢ αἰσχρὸν αὐτὸ ὡμολόγεις εἶναι ὥσπερ ἄλλοι τινές, εἴχομεν ἄν τι λέγειν κατὰ τὰ νομιζόμενα λέγοντες· νῦν δὲ δῆλος εἶ ὅτι φήσεις αὐτὸ καὶ καλὸν καὶ ἰσχυρὸν εἶναι καὶ τἆλλα αὐτῷ πάντα προσθήσεις 349a ἃ ἡμεῖς τῷ δικαίῳ προσετίθεμεν, ἐπειδή γε καὶ ἐν ἀρετῇ αὐτὸ καὶ σοφίᾳ ἐτόλμησας θεῖναι.
ἀληθέστατα, ἔφη, μαντεύῃ.
“If you had held that injustice pays, but admitted, as some others do, that it’s a badness or something shameful, we could have said something by appealing to conventional views. But as it is, you’ll obviously call it both fine and strong, and credit it with all the other qualities 349a we used to credit to the just, since you’ve dared to rank it with excellence and wisdom.”
“Your prophecy is perfectly true,” he said.
ἀλλʼ οὐ μέντοι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἀποκνητέον γε τῷ λόγῳ ἐπεξελθεῖν σκοπούμενον, ἕως ἄν σε ὑπολαμβάνω λέγειν ἅπερ διανοῇ. ἐμοὶ γὰρ δοκεῖς σύ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἀτεχνῶς νῦν οὐ σκώπτειν, ἀλλὰ τὰ δοκοῦντα περὶ τῆς ἀληθείας λέγειν.
τί δέ σοι, ἔφη, τοῦτο διαφέρει, εἴτε μοι δοκεῖ εἴτε μή, ἀλλʼ οὐ τὸν λόγον ἐλέγχεις; 349b
οὐδέν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ. ἀλλὰ τόδε μοι πειρῶ ἔτι πρὸς τούτοις ἀποκρίνασθαι· ὁ δίκαιος τοῦ δικαίου δοκεῖ τί σοι ἂν ἐθέλειν πλέον ἔχειν;
οὐδαμῶς, ἔφη· οὐ γὰρ ἂν ἦν ἀστεῖος, ὥσπερ νῦν, καὶ εὐήθης.
“All the same,” I said, “I mustn’t shrink from following the argument through and examining it, as long as I take you to be saying what you really think. Because it seems to me, Thrasymachus, that you’re honestly not joking now, but saying what you believe to be the truth.”
“What difference does it make to you,” he said, “whether I believe it or not? Why don’t you just refute the argument?” 349b
“None,” I said. “But try to answer me this as well. Do you think a just man would want to have more than another just man?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be the charming, good-natured fellow he is.”
τί δέ; τῆς δικαίας πράξεως;
οὐδὲ τῆς δικαίας, ἔφη.
τοῦ δὲ ἀδίκου πότερον ἀξιοῖ ἂν πλεονεκτεῖν καὶ ἡγοῖτο δίκαιον εἶναι, ἢ οὐκ ἂν ἡγοῖτο;
ἡγοῖτʼ ἄν, ἦ δʼ ὅς, καὶ ἀξιοῖ, ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἂν δύναιτο.
ἀλλʼ οὐ τοῦτο, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἐρωτῶ, ἀλλʼ εἰ τοῦ μὲν 349c δικαίου μὴ ἀξιοῖ πλέον ἔχειν μηδὲ βούλεται ὁ δίκαιος, τοῦ δὲ ἀδίκου;
ἀλλʼ οὕτως, ἔφη, ἔχει.
τί δὲ δὴ ὁ ἄδικος; ἆρα ἀξιοῖ τοῦ δικαίου πλεονεκτεῖν καὶ τῆς δικαίας πράξεως;
“What about more than the just action?”
“Not more than the just action either,” he said.
“And would he think it right to outdo the unjust man, and consider that just, or wouldn’t he?”
“He’d consider it just,” he said, “and think it right, but he wouldn’t be able to.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” I said. “I’m asking whether the just man doesn’t think it right, and doesn’t want, to have more than 349c the just man, but does want to have more than the unjust.”
“That’s how it is,” he said.
“And what about the unjust man? Does he think it right to outdo the just man and the just action?”
πῶς γὰρ οὔκ; ἔφη, ὅς γε πάντων πλέον ἔχειν ἀξιοῖ;
οὐκοῦν καὶ ἀδίκου γε ἀνθρώπου τε καὶ πράξεως ὁ ἄδικος πλεονεκτήσει καὶ ἁμιλλήσεται ὡς ἁπάντων πλεῖστον αὐτὸς λάβῃ;
ἔστι ταῦτα.
ὧδε δὴ λέγωμεν, ἔφην· ὁ δίκαιος τοῦ μὲν ὁμοίου οὐ πλεονεκτεῖ, τοῦ δὲ ἀνομοίου, ὁ δὲ ἄδικος τοῦ τε ὁμοίου καὶ 349d τοῦ ἀνομοίου;
ἄριστα, ἔφη, εἴρηκας.
ἔστιν δέ γε, ἔφην, φρόνιμός τε καὶ ἀγαθὸς ὁ ἄδικος, ὁ δὲ δίκαιος οὐδέτερα;
καὶ τοῦτʼ, ἔφη, εὖ.
“Of course,” he said, “since he thinks it right to have more than everybody.”
“So the unjust man will outdo an unjust person and an unjust action too, and will compete to take the most of everything for himself?”
“That’s right.”
“Then let’s put it this way,” I said. “The just man doesn’t outdo his like, but only his unlike, while the unjust man outdoes both his like and 349d his unlike?”
“Excellently put,” he said.
“And the unjust man,” I said, “is intelligent and good, and the just man neither?”
“That’s well put too,” he said.
οὐκοῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ ἔοικε τῷ φρονίμῳ καὶ τῷ ἀγαθῷ ὁ ἄδικος, ὁ δὲ δίκαιος οὐκ ἔοικεν;
πῶς γὰρ οὐ μέλλει, ἔφη, ὁ τοιοῦτος ὢν καὶ ἐοικέναι τοῖς τοιούτοις, ὁ δὲ μὴ ἐοικέναι;
καλῶς. τοιοῦτος ἄρα ἐστὶν ἑκάτερος αὐτῶν οἷσπερ ἔοικεν;
ἀλλὰ τί μέλλει; ἔφη.
εἶεν, ὦ Θρασύμαχε· μουσικὸν δέ τινα λέγεις, ἕτερον δὲ 349e ἄμουσον;
ἔγωγε.
πότερον φρόνιμον καὶ πότερον ἄφρονα;
τὸν μὲν μουσικὸν δήπου φρόνιμον, τὸν δὲ ἄμουσον ἄφρονα.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ἅπερ φρόνιμον, ἀγαθόν, ἃ δὲ ἄφρονα, κακόν;
ναί.
“So,” I said, “the unjust man also resembles the intelligent and the good, and the just man doesn’t?”
“How could it be otherwise?” he said. “Someone of that kind must resemble people of that kind, and the other must not.”
“Fine. So each of them is of the same kind as those he resembles?”
“What else would he be?” he said.
“Very well, Thrasymachus. You call one man musical, and another 349e unmusical?”
“I do.”
“Which of them is intelligent, and which unintelligent?”
“The musical one is intelligent, surely, and the unmusical one unintelligent.”
“And good in the things he’s intelligent in, and bad in the things he’s unintelligent in?”
“Yes.”
τί δὲ ἰατρικόν; οὐχ οὕτως;
οὕτως.
δοκεῖ ἂν οὖν τίς σοι, ὦ ἄριστε, μουσικὸς ἀνὴρ ἁρμοττόμενος λύραν ἐθέλειν μουσικοῦ ἀνδρὸς ἐν τῇ ἐπιτάσει καὶ ἀνέσει τῶν χορδῶν πλεονεκτεῖν ἢ ἀξιοῦν πλέον ἔχειν;
οὐκ ἔμοιγε.
τί δέ; ἀμούσου;
ἀνάγκη, ἔφη.
τί δὲ ἰατρικός; ἐν τῇ ἐδωδῇ ἢ πόσει ἐθέλειν ἄν τι ἰατρικοῦ πλεονεκτεῖν ἢ ἀνδρὸς ἢ πράγματος;
οὐ δῆτα.
μὴ ἰατρικοῦ δέ;
ναί.
“And the same with a doctor?”
“The same.”
“Now do you think, my excellent friend, that a musician tuning his lyre would want to outdo another musician in tightening and loosening the strings, or think it right to have more?”
“I don’t.”
“What about outdoing an unmusical man?”
“Necessarily,” he said.
“And a doctor? In prescribing food or drink, would he want to outdo a doctor, or medical practice?”
“Certainly not.”
“But a non-doctor?”
“Yes.”
περὶ πάσης δὴ ὅρα ἐπιστήμης τε καὶ ἀνεπιστημοσύνης εἴ τίς σοι δοκεῖ ἐπιστήμων ὁστισοῦν πλείω ἂν ἐθέλειν αἱρεῖσθαι ἢ ὅσα ἄλλος ἐπιστήμων ἢ πράττειν ἢ λέγειν, καὶ οὐ ταὐτὰ τῷ ὁμοίῳ ἑαυτῷ εἰς τὴν αὐτὴν πρᾶξιν.
ἀλλʼ ἴσως, ἔφη, ἀνάγκη τοῦτό γε οὕτως ἔχειν.
τί δὲ ὁ ἀνεπιστήμων; οὐχὶ ὁμοίως μὲν ἐπιστήμονος 350b πλεονεκτήσειεν ἄν, ὁμοίως δὲ ἀνεπιστήμονος;
ἴσως.
ὁ δὲ ἐπιστήμων σοφός;
φημί.
ὁ δὲ σοφὸς ἀγαθός;
φημί.
“Now look at every kind of knowledge and ignorance, and see whether you think anyone with knowledge, whoever he is, would want to choose to do or say more than another person with knowledge, rather than the same as someone like himself in the same action.”
“Well, perhaps,” he said, “it has to be that way.”
“And what about the ignorant man? Wouldn’t he outdo the knowledgeable 350b and the ignorant alike?”
“Perhaps.”
“And the knowledgeable man is wise?”
“I say so.”
“And the wise man is good?”
“I say so.”
ὁ ἄρα ἀγαθός τε καὶ σοφὸς τοῦ μὲν ὁμοίου οὐκ ἐθελήσει πλεονεκτεῖν, τοῦ δὲ ἀνομοίου τε καὶ ἐναντίου.
ἔοικεν, ἔφη.
ὁ δὲ κακός τε καὶ ἀμαθὴς τοῦ τε ὁμοίου καὶ τοῦ ἐναντίου.
φαίνεται.
οὐκοῦν, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὁ ἄδικος ἡμῖν τοῦ ἀνομοίου τε καὶ ὁμοίου πλεονεκτεῖ; ἢ οὐχ οὕτως ἔλεγες;
ἔγωγε, ἔφη. 350c
ὁ δέ γε δίκαιος τοῦ μὲν ὁμοίου οὐ πλεονεκτήσει, τοῦ δὲ ἀνομοίου;
ναί.
“So the man who is good and wise won’t want to outdo his like, but only his unlike and opposite.”
“So it seems,” he said.
“While the bad and ignorant man will outdo both his like and his opposite.”
“Apparently.”
“Now, Thrasymachus,” I said, “our unjust man outdoes both his unlike and his like? Isn’t that what you said?”
“I did,” he said. 350c
“And the just man won’t outdo his like, but will outdo his unlike?”
“Yes.”
ἔοικεν ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὁ μὲν δίκαιος τῷ σοφῷ καὶ ἀγαθῷ, ὁ δὲ ἄδικος τῷ κακῷ καὶ ἀμαθεῖ.
κινδυνεύει.
ἀλλὰ μὴν ὡμολογοῦμεν, ᾧ γε ὅμοιος ἑκάτερος εἴη, τοιοῦτον καὶ ἑκάτερον εἶναι.
ὡμολογοῦμεν γάρ.
ὁ μὲν ἄρα δίκαιος ἡμῖν ἀναπέφανται ὢν ἀγαθός τε καὶ σοφός, ὁ δὲ ἄδικος ἀμαθής τε καὶ κακός.
“So the just man resembles the wise and good man,” I said, “and the unjust man resembles the bad and ignorant one.”
“It looks that way.”
“But we agreed that each is of the same kind as the one he resembles.”
“Yes, we did.”
“Then the just man has turned out to be good and wise, and the unjust man ignorant and bad.”
ὁ δὴ Θρασύμαχος ὡμολόγησε μὲν πάντα ταῦτα, οὐχ 350d ὡς ἐγὼ νῦν ῥᾳδίως λέγω, ἀλλʼ ἑλκόμενος καὶ μόγις, μετὰ ἱδρῶτος θαυμαστοῦ ὅσου, ἅτε καὶ θέρους ὄντος—τότε καὶ εἶδον ἐγώ, πρότερον δὲ οὔπω, Θρασύμαχον ἐρυθριῶντα— ἐπειδὴ δὲ οὖν διωμολογησάμεθα τὴν δικαιοσύνην ἀρετὴν εἶναι καὶ σοφίαν, τὴν δὲ ἀδικίαν κακίαν τε καὶ ἀμαθίαν, εἶεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, τοῦτο μὲν ἡμῖν οὕτω κείσθω, ἔφαμεν δὲ δὴ καὶ ἰσχυρὸν εἶναι τὴν ἀδικίαν. ἢ οὐ μέμνησαι, ὦ Θρασύμαχε;
Now Thrasymachus agreed to all this, not 350d easily, the way I’m telling it now, but dragged along, reluctantly, sweating an amazing amount, since it was summer as well—and it was then that I saw something I had never seen before: Thrasymachus blushing. But once we had agreed that justice is excellence and wisdom, and injustice badness and ignorance, I said, “All right, let’s take that as settled. But we also said that injustice was strong. Or don’t you remember, Thrasymachus?”
μέμνημαι, ἔφη· ἀλλʼ ἔμοιγε οὐδὲ ἃ νῦν λέγεις ἀρέσκει, καὶ ἔχω περὶ αὐτῶν λέγειν. εἰ οὖν λέγοιμι, εὖ οἶδʼ ὅτι 350e δημηγορεῖν ἄν με φαίης. ἢ οὖν ἔα με εἰπεῖν ὅσα βούλομαι, ἤ, εἰ βούλει ἐρωτᾶν, ἐρώτα· ἐγὼ δέ σοι, ὥσπερ ταῖς γραυσὶν ταῖς τοὺς μύθους λεγούσαις, “εἶεν” ἐρῶ καὶ κατανεύσομαι καὶ ἀνανεύσομαι.
μηδαμῶς, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, παρά γε τὴν σαυτοῦ δόξαν.
ὥστε σοί, ἔφη, ἀρέσκειν, ἐπειδήπερ οὐκ ἐᾷς λέγειν. καίτοι τί ἄλλο βούλει;
οὐδὲν μὰ Δία, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἀλλʼ εἴπερ τοῦτο ποιήσεις, ποίει· ἐγὼ δὲ ἐρωτήσω.
“I remember,” he said. “But I’m not happy with what you’re saying now either, and I have something to say about it. Only, if I said it, I know perfectly well 350e you’d say I was making a public speech. So either let me say as much as I like, or, if you want to ask questions, ask them, and I’ll say ‘very well’ to you, the way people do to old women telling stories, and nod yes and shake my head no.”
“Not against your own opinion, please,” I said.
“Just to please you,” he said, “since you won’t let me speak. What else do you want?”
“Nothing, by Zeus,” I said. “If that’s what you’re going to do, do it. I’ll ask the questions.”
τοῦτο τοίνυν ἐρωτῶ, ὅπερ ἄρτι, ἵνα καὶ ἑξῆς διασκεψώμεθα 351a >τὸν λόγον, ὁποῖόν τι τυγχάνει ὂν δικαιοσύνη πρὸς ἀδικίαν. ἐλέχθη γάρ που ὅτι καὶ δυνατώτερον καὶ ἰσχυρότερον εἴη ἀδικία δικαιοσύνης· νῦν δέ γʼ, ἔφην, εἴπερ σοφία τε καὶ ἀρετή ἐστιν δικαιοσύνη, ῥᾳδίως οἶμαι φανήσεται καὶ ἰσχυρότερον ἀδικίας, ἐπειδήπερ ἐστὶν ἀμαθία ἡ ἀδικία— οὐδεὶς ἂν ἔτι τοῦτο ἀγνοήσειεν—ἀλλʼ οὔ τι οὕτως ἁπλῶς, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἔγωγε ἐπιθυμῶ, ἀλλὰ τῇδέ πῃ σκέψασθαι· 351b πόλιν φαίης ἂν ἄδικον εἶναι καὶ ἄλλας πόλεις ἐπιχειρεῖν δουλοῦσθαι ἀδίκως καὶ καταδεδουλῶσθαι, πολλὰς δὲ καὶ ὑφʼ ἑαυτῇ ἔχειν δουλωσαμένην;
“Well, I’m asking the same thing I asked just now, so that we can pursue 351a the argument in order: what sort of thing justice is, compared with injustice. It was said, I think, that injustice is more powerful and stronger than justice. But now,” I said, “if justice is wisdom and excellence, it will easily turn out, I think, to be stronger than injustice too, since injustice is ignorance—nobody could fail to see that any longer. Still, I don’t want to look at it quite so simply, Thrasymachus; I’d rather look at it this way. 351b Would you say that a city can be unjust, and try to enslave other cities unjustly, and succeed in enslaving them, and hold many of them enslaved under itself?”
πῶς γὰρ οὔκ; ἔφη. καὶ τοῦτό γε ἡ ἀρίστη μάλιστα ποιήσει καὶ τελεώτατα οὖσα ἄδικος.
μανθάνω, ἔφην, ὅτι σὸς οὗτος ἦν ὁ λόγος. ἀλλὰ τόδε περὶ αὐτοῦ σκοπῶ· πότερον ἡ κρείττων γιγνομένη πόλις πόλεως ἄνευ δικαιοσύνης τὴν δύναμιν ταύτην ἕξει, ἢ ἀνάγκη αὐτῇ μετὰ δικαιοσύνης; 351c
εἰ μέν, ἔφη, ὡς σὺ ἄρτι ἔλεγες ἔχει—ἡ δικαιοσύνη σοφία—μετὰ δικαιοσύνης· εἰ δʼ ὡς ἐγὼ ἔλεγον, μετὰ ἀδικίας.
πάνυ ἄγαμαι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ὅτι οὐκ ἐπινεύεις μόνον καὶ ἀνανεύεις, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἀποκρίνῃ πάνυ καλῶς.
σοὶ γάρ, ἔφη, χαρίζομαι.
“Of course,” he said. “And it’s the best city, the one that is most perfectly unjust, that will do this most of all.”
“I understand,” I said, “that this was your position. But here’s the point I’m examining: will a city that becomes stronger than another have this power without justice, or must it have it with justice?” 351c
“If it’s as you were saying just now,” he said, “that justice is wisdom, then with justice; but if it’s as I was saying, with injustice.”
“I’m delighted, Thrasymachus,” I said, “that you aren’t just nodding and shaking your head, but giving very fine answers.”
“That’s to please you,” he said.
εὖ γε σὺ ποιῶν· ἀλλὰ δὴ καὶ τόδε μοι χάρισαι καὶ λέγε· δοκεῖς ἂν ἢ πόλιν ἢ στρατόπεδον ἢ λῃστὰς ἢ κλέπτας ἢ ἄλλο τι ἔθνος, ὅσα κοινῇ ἐπί τι ἔρχεται ἀδίκως, πρᾶξαι ἄν τι δύνασθαι, εἰ ἀδικοῖεν ἀλλήλους; 351d
οὐ δῆτα, ἦ δʼ ὅς.
τί δʼ εἰ μὴ ἀδικοῖεν; οὐ μᾶλλον;
πάνυ γε.
στάσεις γάρ που, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἥ γε ἀδικία καὶ μίση καὶ μάχας ἐν ἀλλήλοις παρέχει, ἡ δὲ δικαιοσύνη ὁμόνοιαν καὶ φιλίαν· ἦ γάρ;
ἔστω, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ἵνα σοι μὴ διαφέρωμαι.
“And very kind of you. But please me in this too, and tell me: do you think a city, or an army, or a band of robbers or thieves, or any other group that sets out together to do something unjustly, could accomplish anything if its members wronged one another?” 351d
“Certainly not,” he said.
“And if they didn’t wrong one another? Wouldn’t they be better able to?”
“Certainly.”
“Because injustice, Thrasymachus, produces factions and hatreds and fights among people, while justice produces unity of mind and friendship. Isn’t that so?”
“Let it be so,” he said, “so as not to quarrel with you.”
ἀλλʼ εὖ γε σὺ ποιῶν, ὦ ἄριστε. τόδε δέ μοι λέγε· ἆρα εἰ τοῦτο ἔργον ἀδικίας, μῖσος ἐμποιεῖν ὅπου ἂν ἐνῇ, οὐ καὶ ἐν ἐλευθέροις τε καὶ δούλοις ἐγγιγνομένη μισεῖν ποιήσει ἀλλήλους καὶ στασιάζειν καὶ ἀδυνάτους εἶναι κοινῇ μετʼ 351e ἀλλήλων πράττειν;
πάνυ γε.
τί δὲ ἂν ἐν δυοῖν ἐγγένηται; οὐ διοίσονται καὶ μισήσουσιν καὶ ἐχθροὶ ἔσονται ἀλλήλοις τε καὶ τοῖς δικαίοις;
ἔσονται, ἔφη.
ἐὰν δὲ δή, ὦ θαυμάσιε, ἐν ἑνὶ ἐγγένηται ἀδικία, μῶν μὴ ἀπολεῖ τὴν αὑτῆς δύναμιν, ἢ οὐδὲν ἧττον ἕξει;
“That’s good of you, my excellent friend. Now tell me this: if it’s the work of injustice to produce hatred wherever it is, then whenever it arises among free men or slaves, won’t it make them hate one another and split into factions and be unable to act together with 351e one another?”
“Certainly.”
“And what if it arises in two people? Won’t they be at odds and hate each other, and be enemies both to each other and to the just?”
“They will,” he said.
“And if injustice arises in a single person, my remarkable friend, surely it won’t lose its power? Or will it keep it just the same?”
μηδὲν ἧττον ἐχέτω, ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν τοιάνδε τινὰ φαίνεται ἔχουσα τὴν δύναμιν, οἵαν, ᾧ ἂν ἐγγένηται, εἴτε πόλει τινὶ εἴτε γένει εἴτε στρατοπέδῳ εἴτε 352a ἄλλῳ ὁτῳοῦν, πρῶτον μὲν ἀδύνατον αὐτὸ ποιεῖν πράττειν μεθʼ αὑτοῦ διὰ τὸ στασιάζειν καὶ διαφέρεσθαι, ἔτι δʼ ἐχθρὸν εἶναι ἑαυτῷ τε καὶ τῷ ἐναντίῳ παντὶ καὶ τῷ δικαίῳ; οὐχ οὕτως;
πάνυ γε.
“Let it keep it just the same,” he said.
“Then it apparently has a power of this kind: whatever it arises in, whether a city or a clan or an army or 352a anything else at all, it first makes that thing unable to act together with itself, because of faction and disagreement, and then makes it an enemy both to itself and to everything opposed to it, including the just. Isn’t that so?”
“Certainly.”
καὶ ἐν ἑνὶ δὴ οἶμαι ἐνοῦσα ταὐτὰ ταῦτα ποιήσει ἅπερ πέφυκεν ἐργάζεσθαι· πρῶτον μὲν ἀδύνατον αὐτὸν πράττειν ποιήσει στασιάζοντα καὶ οὐχ ὁμονοοῦντα αὐτὸν ἑαυτῷ, ἔπειτα ἐχθρὸν καὶ ἑαυτῷ καὶ τοῖς δικαίοις· ἦ γάρ;
ναί.
δίκαιοι δέ γʼ εἰσίν, ὦ φίλε, καὶ οἱ θεοί;
ἔστω, ἔφη. 352b
καὶ θεοῖς ἄρα ἐχθρὸς ἔσται ὁ ἄδικος, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ὁ δὲ δίκαιος φίλος.
εὐωχοῦ τοῦ λόγου, ἔφη, θαρρῶν· οὐ γὰρ ἔγωγέ σοι ἐναντιώσομαι, ἵνα μὴ τοῖσδε ἀπέχθωμαι.
“And when it’s in a single person too, I suppose, it will do the very things it naturally produces. First it will make him unable to act, being at odds and not of one mind with himself, and then an enemy both to himself and to the just. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“And the gods are just too, my friend?”
“Let it be so,” he said. 352b
“Then the unjust man will be an enemy to the gods as well, Thrasymachus, and the just man their friend.”
“Feast on your argument,” he said, “and enjoy it. I won’t oppose you, so as not to make enemies of the people here.”
ἴθι δή, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ τὰ λοιπά μοι τῆς ἑστιάσεως ἀποπλήρωσον ἀποκρινόμενος ὥσπερ καὶ νῦν. ὅτι μὲν γὰρ καὶ σοφώτεροι καὶ ἀμείνους καὶ δυνατώτεροι πράττειν οἱ δίκαιοι φαίνονται, οἱ δὲ ἄδικοι οὐδὲ πράττειν μετʼ ἀλλήλων οἷοί 352c τε—ἀλλὰ δὴ καὶ οὕς φαμεν ἐρρωμένως πώποτέ τι μετʼ ἀλλήλων κοινῇ πρᾶξαι ἀδίκους ὄντας, τοῦτο οὐ παντάπασιν ἀληθὲς λέγομεν· οὐ γὰρ ἂν ἀπείχοντο ἀλλήλων κομιδῇ ὄντες ἄδικοι, ἀλλὰ δῆλον ὅτι ἐνῆν τις αὐτοῖς δικαιοσύνη, ἣ αὐτοὺς ἐποίει μήτοι καὶ ἀλλήλους γε καὶ ἐφʼ οὓς ᾖσαν ἅμα ἀδικεῖν, διʼ ἣν ἔπραξαν ἃ ἔπραξαν, ὥρμησαν δὲ ἐπὶ τὰ ἄδικα ἀδικίᾳ ἡμιμόχθηροι ὄντες, ἐπεὶ οἵ γε παμπόνηροι καὶ τελέως ἄδικοι τελέως εἰσὶ καὶ πράττειν ἀδύνατοι—ταῦτα 352d μὲν οὖν ὅτι οὕτως ἔχει μανθάνω, ἀλλʼ οὐχ ὡς σὺ τὸ πρῶτον ἐτίθεσο· εἰ δὲ καὶ ἄμεινον ζῶσιν οἱ δίκαιοι τῶν ἀδίκων καὶ εὐδαιμονέστεροί εἰσιν, ὅπερ τὸ ὕστερον προυθέμεθα σκέψασθαι, σκεπτέον.
“Come on, then,” I said, “fill up the rest of my banquet by answering the way you have been. We’ve seen that the just are wiser and better and more capable of acting, while the unjust can’t even act together— 352c and in fact, when we say that people who are unjust have ever vigorously accomplished anything together, what we’re saying isn’t entirely true. For if they had been completely unjust, they wouldn’t have kept their hands off one another. Clearly there was some justice in them, which kept them from wronging one another at the same time as the people they were attacking, and it was through this that they did what they did. They set out on their unjust deeds only half-corrupted by injustice, since the utterly wicked and perfectly unjust are perfectly incapable of acting as well. That this 352d is how things are, I understand, and not as you first proposed. But whether the just also live better than the unjust and are happier—the question we proposed to examine next—is something we must examine.
φαίνονται μὲν οὖν καὶ νῦν, ὥς γέ μοι δοκεῖ, ἐξ ὧν εἰρήκαμεν· ὅμως δʼ ἔτι βέλτιον σκεπτέον. οὐ γὰρ περὶ τοῦ ἐπιτυχόντος ὁ λόγος, ἀλλὰ περὶ τοῦ ὅντινα τρόπον χρὴ ζῆν.
“They do appear to, even now, I think, from what we’ve said. Still, we must look into it more carefully. For the argument isn’t about some chance matter, but about how one ought to live.”
The function of the soul
Socrates argues justice is the soul's excellence, and Glaucon asks for a fuller defense.
σκόπει δή, ἔφη.
σκοπῶ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ. καί μοι λέγε· δοκεῖ τί σοι εἶναι ἵππου ἔργον; 352e
ἔμοιγε.
ἆρʼ οὖν τοῦτο ἂν θείης καὶ ἵππου καὶ ἄλλου ὁτουοῦν ἔργον, ὃ ἂν ἢ μόνῳ ἐκείνῳ ποιῇ τις ἢ ἄριστα;
οὐ μανθάνω, ἔφη.
ἀλλʼ ὧδε· ἔσθʼ ὅτῳ ἂν ἄλλῳ ἴδοις ἢ ὀφθαλμοῖς;
οὐ δῆτα.
τί δέ; ἀκούσαις ἄλλῳ ἢ ὠσίν;
οὐδαμῶς.
οὐκοῦν δικαίως ἂν ταῦτα τούτων φαμὲν ἔργα εἶναι;
πάνυ γε.
“Look into it, then,” he said.
“I am,” I said. “Tell me: do you think a horse has some function?” 352e
“I do.”
“And would you take the function of a horse, or of anything else, to be what one can do only with it, or best with it?”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“Look at it this way: is there anything you could see with except eyes?”
“Certainly not.”
“Or hear with, except ears?”
“Not at all.”
“So we’d be right to say that these are their functions?”
“Certainly.”
τί δέ; μαχαίρᾳ ἂν ἀμπέλου κλῆμα ἀποτέμοις καὶ σμίλῃ καὶ ἄλλοις πολλοῖς;
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ἀλλʼ οὐδενί γʼ ἂν οἶμαι οὕτω καλῶς ὡς δρεπάνῳ τῷ ἐπὶ τούτῳ ἐργασθέντι.
ἀληθῆ.
ἆρʼ οὖν οὐ τοῦτο τούτου ἔργον θήσομεν;
θήσομεν μὲν οὖν.
νῦν δὴ οἶμαι ἄμεινον ἂν μάθοις ὃ ἄρτι ἠρώτων, πυνθανόμενος εἰ οὐ τοῦτο ἑκάστου εἴη ἔργον ὃ ἂν ἢ μόνον τι ἢ κάλλιστα τῶν ἄλλων ἀπεργάζηται.
ἀλλά, ἔφη, μανθάνω τε καί μοι δοκεῖ τοῦτο ἑκάστου 353b πράγματος ἔργον εἶναι.
“And what about this: you could cut off a vine shoot with a knife or a chisel or many other things?”
“Of course.”
“But with nothing, I imagine, as well as with a pruning hook made for the purpose.”
“True.”
“So shall we take this to be its function?”
“Yes, we shall.”
“Now I think you’ll better understand what I was asking just now, when I wanted to know whether the function of each thing isn’t what it alone accomplishes, or accomplishes better than anything else.”
“Yes,” he said, “I understand, and I think that is the function of each 353b thing.”
εἶεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ. οὐκοῦν καὶ ἀρετὴ δοκεῖ σοι εἶναι ἑκάστῳ ᾧπερ καὶ ἔργον τι προστέτακται; ἴωμεν δὲ ἐπὶ τὰ αὐτὰ πάλιν· ὀφθαλμῶν, φαμέν, ἔστι τι ἔργον;
ἔστιν.
ἆρʼ οὖν καὶ ἀρετὴ ὀφθαλμῶν ἔστιν;
καὶ ἀρετή.
τί δέ; ὤτων ἦν τι ἔργον;
ναί.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ἀρετή;
καὶ ἀρετή.
τί δὲ πάντων πέρι τῶν ἄλλων; οὐχ οὕτω;
οὕτω.
ἔχε δή· ἆρʼ ἄν ποτε ὄμματα τὸ αὑτῶν ἔργον καλῶς 353c ἀπεργάσαιντο μὴ ἔχοντα τὴν αὑτῶν οἰκείαν ἀρετήν, ἀλλʼ ἀντὶ τῆς ἀρετῆς κακίαν;
“Very well,” I said. “And do you think there is also an excellence for each thing to which some function is assigned? Let’s go back to the same examples. Eyes, we say, have a function?”
“They do.”
“So do eyes have an excellence too?”
“An excellence too.”
“And ears had a function?”
“Yes.”
“And so an excellence too?”
“An excellence too.”
“And what about all the other things? Isn’t it the same?”
“It is.”
“Hold on, then. Could eyes ever perform their function well 353c if they lacked their own proper excellence and had badness instead of excellence?”
καὶ πῶς ἄν; ἔφη· τυφλότητα γὰρ ἴσως λέγεις ἀντὶ τῆς ὄψεως.
ἥτις, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, αὐτῶν ἡ ἀρετή· οὐ γάρ πω τοῦτο ἐρωτῶ, ἀλλʼ εἰ τῇ οἰκείᾳ μὲν ἀρετῇ τὸ αὑτῶν ἔργον εὖ ἐργάσεται τὰ ἐργαζόμενα, κακίᾳ δὲ κακῶς.
ἀληθές, ἔφη, τοῦτό γε λέγεις.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ὦτα στερόμενα τῆς αὑτῶν ἀρετῆς κακῶς τὸ αὑτῶν ἔργον ἀπεργάσεται;
πάνυ γε. 353d
τίθεμεν οὖν καὶ τἆλλα πάντα εἰς τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον;
ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.
“How could they?” he said. “I suppose you mean blindness instead of sight.”
“Whatever their excellence may be,” I said. “I’m not asking about that yet, only whether things that have a function perform it well through their own proper excellence, and badly through badness.”
“That much is true,” he said.
“So ears too, deprived of their own excellence, will perform their function badly?”
“Certainly.” 353d
“And do we apply the same argument to everything else?”
“I think so.”
ἴθι δή, μετὰ ταῦτα τόδε σκέψαι. ψυχῆς ἔστιν τι ἔργον ὃ ἄλλῳ τῶν ὄντων οὐδʼ ἂν ἑνὶ πράξαις, οἷον τὸ τοιόνδε· τὸ ἐπιμελεῖσθαι καὶ ἄρχειν καὶ βουλεύεσθαι καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα πάντα, ἔσθʼ ὅτῳ ἄλλῳ ἢ ψυχῇ δικαίως ἂν αὐτὰ ἀποδοῖμεν καὶ φαῖμεν ἴδια ἐκείνης εἶναι;
οὐδενὶ ἄλλῳ.
τί δʼ αὖ τὸ ζῆν; οὐ ψυχῆς φήσομεν ἔργον εἶναι;
μάλιστά γʼ, ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ἀρετήν φαμέν τινα ψυχῆς εἶναι;
φαμέν. 353e
“Come on, then, and consider this next. Does the soul have a function that you couldn’t perform with anything else there is? Something like this: taking care of things, ruling, deliberating, and everything of that sort—is there anything other than a soul to which we could rightly assign these and say they were its own?”
“Nothing else.”
“And what about living? Won’t we say that’s a function of the soul?”
“Most certainly,” he said.
“And we also say the soul has an excellence?”
“We do.” 353e
ἆρʼ οὖν ποτε, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ψυχὴ τὰ αὑτῆς ἔργα εὖ ἀπεργάσεται στερομένη τῆς οἰκείας ἀρετῆς, ἢ ἀδύνατον;
ἀδύνατον.
ἀνάγκη ἄρα κακῇ ψυχῇ κακῶς ἄρχειν καὶ ἐπιμελεῖσθαι, τῇ δὲ ἀγαθῇ πάντα ταῦτα εὖ πράττειν.
ἀνάγκη.
οὐκοῦν ἀρετήν γε συνεχωρήσαμεν ψυχῆς εἶναι δικαιοσύνην, κακίαν δὲ ἀδικίαν;
συνεχωρήσαμεν γάρ.
ἡ μὲν ἄρα δικαία ψυχὴ καὶ ὁ δίκαιος ἀνὴρ εὖ βιώσεται, κακῶς δὲ ὁ ἄδικος.
φαίνεται, ἔφη, κατὰ τὸν σὸν λόγον.
ἀλλὰ μὴν ὅ γε εὖ ζῶν μακάριός τε καὶ εὐδαίμων, ὁ δὲ μὴ τἀναντία.
“Then will a soul ever perform its functions well, Thrasymachus, if it’s deprived of its own proper excellence, or is that impossible?”
“Impossible.”
“So a bad soul must rule and take care of things badly, and a good one do all these things well.”
“It must.”
“And we agreed that justice is the soul’s excellence, and injustice its badness?”
“We did.”
“So the just soul and the just man will live well, and the unjust man badly.”
“So it appears,” he said, “by your argument.”
“And surely whoever lives well is blessed and happy, and whoever doesn’t is the opposite.”
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ὁ μὲν δίκαιος ἄρα εὐδαίμων, ὁ δʼ ἄδικος ἄθλιος.
ἔστω, ἔφη.
ἀλλὰ μὴν ἄθλιόν γε εἶναι οὐ λυσιτελεῖ, εὐδαίμονα δέ.
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
οὐδέποτʼ ἄρα, ὦ μακάριε Θρασύμαχε, λυσιτελέστερον ἀδικία δικαιοσύνης.
ταῦτα δή σοι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, εἱστιάσθω ἐν τοῖς Βενδιδίοις.
“Of course.”
“So the just man is happy, and the unjust man miserable.”
“Let it be so,” he said.
“But it doesn’t pay to be miserable; it pays to be happy.”
“Of course.”
“Then injustice, my blessed Thrasymachus, is never more profitable than justice.”
“Well, Socrates,” he said, “let that be your feast for the Bendidea.”
ὑπὸ σοῦ γε, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἐπειδή μοι πρᾷος ἐγένου καὶ χαλεπαίνων ἐπαύσω. οὐ μέντοι καλῶς γε 354b εἱστίαμαι, διʼ ἐμαυτὸν ἀλλʼ οὐ διὰ σέ· ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ οἱ λίχνοι τοῦ ἀεὶ παραφερομένου ἀπογεύονται ἁρπάζοντες, πρὶν τοῦ προτέρου μετρίως ἀπολαῦσαι, καὶ ἐγώ μοι δοκῶ οὕτω, πρὶν ὃ τὸ πρῶτον ἐσκοποῦμεν εὑρεῖν, τὸ δίκαιον ὅτι ποτʼ ἐστίν, ἀφέμενος ἐκείνου ὁρμῆσαι ἐπὶ τὸ σκέψασθαι περὶ αὐτοῦ εἴτε κακία ἐστὶν καὶ ἀμαθία, εἴτε σοφία καὶ ἀρετή, καὶ ἐμπεσόντος αὖ ὕστερον λόγου, ὅτι λυσιτελέστερον ἡ ἀδικία τῆς δικαιοσύνης, οὐκ ἀπεσχόμην τὸ μὴ οὐκ ἐπὶ τοῦτο ἐλθεῖν ἀπʼ ἐκείνου, ὥστε μοι νυνὶ γέγονεν ἐκ τοῦ διαλόγου μηδὲν 354c εἰδέναι· ὁπότε γὰρ τὸ δίκαιον μὴ οἶδα ὅ ἐστιν, σχολῇ εἴσομαι εἴτε ἀρετή τις οὖσα τυγχάνει εἴτε καὶ οὔ, καὶ πότερον ὁ ἔχων αὐτὸ οὐκ εὐδαίμων ἐστὶν ἢ εὐδαίμων.
“Provided by you, Thrasymachus,” I said, “since you’ve turned gentle with me and stopped being harsh. Still, I haven’t feasted 354b well—through my own fault, not yours. Gluttons snatch a taste of each dish as it’s carried round before they’ve properly enjoyed the one before, and I think I’ve done the same. Before finding what we were first looking into—what justice is—I let go of that and rushed off to examine whether it is badness and ignorance, or wisdom and excellence. Then later, when the argument that injustice is more profitable than justice burst in, I couldn’t keep from leaving the other question and going after this one. So now the upshot of our discussion is that I know 354c nothing. For when I don’t know what justice is, I’ll hardly know whether it is in fact an excellence or not, or whether the person who has it is unhappy or happy.”