ΣΩ. μεταλάβωμεν δὴ τὰ ὀνόματα πάλιν τὸ ἡδύ τε καὶ ἀνιαρὸν ἐπὶ τοῖς αὐτοῖς τούτοις, καὶ λέγωμεν ὅτι Ἄνθρωπος πράττει—τότε μὲν ἐλέγομεν τὰ κακά, νῦν δὲ λέγωμεν τὰ ἀνιαρά, γιγνώσκων ὅτι ἀνιαρά ἐστιν, ἡττώμενος ὑπὸ τῶν ἡδέων, δῆλον ὅτι ἀναξίων ὄντων νικᾶν. καὶ τίς ἄλλη ἀναξία ἡδονῇ πρὸς λύπην ἐστίν, ἀλλʼ ἢ ὑπερβολὴ ἀλλήλων καὶ ἔλλειψις; ταῦτα δʼ ἐστὶ μείζω τε καὶ σμικρότερα γιγνόμενα ἀλλήλων καὶ πλείω καὶ ἐλάττω καὶ μᾶλλον καὶ ἧττον. εἰ γάρ τις λέγοι ὅτι «ἀλλὰ πολὺ διαφέρει, ὦ Σώκρατες, τὸ παραχρῆμα ἡδὺ τοῦ εἰς τὸν ὕστερον χρόνον καὶ ἡδέος καὶ λυπηροῦ,» μῶν ἄλλῳ τῳ, φαίην ἂν ἔγωγε, ἢ ἡδονῇ καὶ λύπῃ; οὐ γὰρ ἔσθʼ ὅτῳ ἄλλῳ. ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ ἀγαθὸς ἱστάναι ἄνθρωπος, συνθεὶς τὰ ἡδέα καὶ συνθεὶς τὰ λυπηρά, καὶ τὸ ἐγγὺς καὶ τὸ πόρρω στήσας ἐν τῷ ζυγῷ, εἰπὲ πότερα πλείω ἐστίν. ἐὰν μὲν γὰρ ἡδέα πρὸς ἡδέα ἱστῇς, τὰ μείζω ἀεὶ καὶ πλείω ληπτέα· ἐὰν δὲ λυπηρὰ πρὸς λυπηρά, τὰ ἐλάττω καὶ σμικρότερα· ἐὰν δὲ ἡδέα πρὸς λυπηρά, ἐὰν μὲν τὰ ἀνιαρὰ ὑπερβάλληται ὑπὸ τῶν ἡδέων, ἐάντε τὰ ἐγγὺς ὑπὸ τῶν πόρρω ἐάντε τὰ πόρρω ὑπὸ τῶν ἐγγύς, ταύτην τὴν πρᾶξιν πρακτέον ἐν ᾗ ἂν ταῦτʼ ἐνῇ· ἐὰν δὲ τὰ ἡδέα ὑπὸ τῶν ἀνιαρῶν, οὐ πρακτέα. μή πῃ ἄλλῃ ἔχει, φαίην ἄν, ταῦτα, ὦ ἄνθρωποι; οἶδʼ ὅτι οὐκ ἂν ἔχοιεν ἄλλως λέγειν.—συνεδόκει καὶ ἐκείνῳ. ὅτε δὴ τοῦτο οὕτως ἔχει, τόδε μοι ἀποκρίνασθε, φήσω. φαίνεται ὑμῖν τῇ ὄψει τὰ αὐτὰ μεγέθη ἐγγύθεν μὲν μείζω, πόρρωθεν δὲ ἐλάττω· ἢ οὔ;—φήσουσιν.—καὶ τὰ παχέα καὶ τὰ πολλὰ ὡσαύτως; καὶ αἱ φωναὶ αἱ ἴσαι ἐγγύθεν μὲν μείζους, πόρρωθεν δὲ σμικρότεραι;—φαῖεν ἄν.—εἰ οὖν ἐν τούτῳ ἡμῖν ἦν τὸ εὖ πράττειν, ἐν τῷ τὰ μὲν μεγάλα μήκη καὶ πράττειν καὶ λαμβάνειν, τὰ δὲ σμικρὰ καὶ φεύγειν καὶ μὴ πράττειν, τίς ἂν ἡμῖν σωτηρία ἐφάνη τοῦ βίου; ἆρα ἡ μετρητικὴ τέχνη ἢ ἡ τοῦ φαινομένου δύναμις; ἢ αὕτη μὲν ἡμᾶς ἐπλάνα καὶ ἐποίει ἄνω τε καὶ κάτω πολλάκις μεταλαμβάνειν ταὐτὰ καὶ μεταμέλειν καὶ ἐν ταῖς πράξεσιν καὶ ἐν ταῖς αἱρέσεσιν τῶν μεγάλων τε καὶ σμικρῶν, ἡ δὲ μετρητικὴ ἄκυρον μὲν ἂν ἐποίησε τοῦτο τὸ φάντασμα, δηλώσασα δὲ τὸ ἀληθὲς ἡσυχίαν ἂν ἐποίησεν ἔχειν τὴν ψυχὴν μένουσαν ἐπὶ τῷ ἀληθεῖ καὶ ἔσωσεν ἂν τὸν βίον; ἆρʼ ἂν ὁμολογοῖεν οἱ ἄνθρωποι πρὸς ταῦτα ἡμᾶς τὴν μετρητικὴν σῴζειν ἂν τέχνην ἢ ἄλλην;—τὴν μετρητικήν, ὡμολόγει.—
And now substitute the names of pleasure and pain for good and evil, and say, not as before, that a man does what is evil knowingly, but that he does what is painful knowingly, and because he is overcome by pleasure, which is unworthy to overcome. What measure is there of the relations of pleasure to pain other than excess and defect, which means that they become greater and smaller, and more and fewer, and differ in degree? For if any one says: ‘Yes, Socrates, but immediate pleasure differs widely from future pleasure and pain’—To that I should reply: And do they differ in anything but in pleasure and pain? There can be no other measure of them. And do you, like a skilful weigher, put into the balance the pleasures and the pains, and their nearness and distance, and weigh them, and then say which outweighs the other. If you weigh pleasures against pleasures, you of course take the more and greater; or if you weigh pains against pains, you take the fewer and the less; or if pleasures against pains, then you choose that course of action in which the painful is exceeded by the pleasant, whether the distant by the near or the near by the distant; and you avoid that course of action in which the pleasant is exceeded by the painful. Would you not admit, my friends, that this is true? I am confident that they cannot deny this.
He agreed with me.
Well then, I shall say, if you agree so far, be so good as to answer me a question: Do not the same magnitudes appear larger to your sight when near, and smaller when at a distance? They will acknowledge that. And the same holds of thickness and number; also sounds, which are in themselves equal, are greater when near, and lesser when at a distance. They will grant that also. Now suppose happiness to consist in doing or choosing the greater, and in not doing or in avoiding the less, what would be the saving principle of human life? Would not the art of measuring be the saving principle; or would the power of appearance? Is not the latter that deceiving art which makes us wander up and down and take the things at one time of which we repent at another, both in our actions and in our choice of things great and small? But the art of measurement would do away with the effect of appearances, and, showing the truth, would fain teach the soul at last to find rest in the truth, and would thus save our life. Would not mankind generally acknowledge that the art which accomplishes this result is the art of measurement?
Yes, he said, the art of measurement.
Suppose, again, the salvation of human life to depend on the choice of odd and even, and on the knowledge of when a man ought to choose the greater or less, either in reference
ΣΩ. τί δʼ εἰ ἐν τῇ τοῦ περιττοῦ καὶ ἀρτίου αἱρέσει ἡμῖν ἦν ἡ σωτηρία τοῦ βίου, ὁπότε τὸ πλέον ὀρθῶς ἔδει ἑλέσθαι καὶ ὁπότε τὸ ἔλαττον, ἢ αὐτὸ πρὸς ἑαυτὸ ἢ τὸ ἕτερον πρὸς τὸ ἕτερον, εἴτʼ ἐγγὺς εἴτε πόρρω εἴη;τί ἂν ἔσῳζεν ἡμῖν τὸν βίον; ἆρʼ ἂν οὐκ ἐπιστήμη; καὶ ἆρʼ ἂν οὐ μετρητική τις, ἐπειδήπερ ὑπερβολῆς τε καὶ ἐνδείας ἐστὶν ἡ τέχνη; ἐπειδὴ δὲ περιττοῦ τε καὶ ἀρτίου, ἆρα ἄλλη τις ἢ ἀριθμητική; Ὁμολογοῖεν ἂν ἡμῖν οἱ ἄνθρωποι ἢ οὔ;—ἐδόκουν ἂν καὶ τῷ Πρωταγόρᾳ ὁμολογεῖν.—εἶεν, ὦ ἄνθρωποι· ἐπεὶ δὲ δὴ ἡδονῆς τε καὶ λύπης ἐν ὀρθῇ τῇ αἱρέσει ἐφάνη ἡμῖν ἡ σωτηρία τοῦ βίου οὖσα, τοῦ τε πλέονος καὶ ἐλάττονος καὶ μείζονος καὶ σμικροτέρου καὶ πορρωτέρω καὶ ἐγγυτέρω, ἆρα πρῶτον μὲν οὐ μετρητικὴ φαίνεται, ὑπερβολῆς τε καὶ ἐνδείας οὖσα καὶ ἰσότητος πρὸς ἀλλήλας σκέψις;—ἀλλʼ ἀνάγκη.—ἐπεὶ δὲ μετρητική, ἀνάγκῃ δήπου τέχνη καὶ ἐπιστήμη.—συμφήσουσιν.—ἥτις μὲν τοίνυν τέχνη καὶ ἐπιστήμη ἐστὶν αὕτη, εἰς αὖθις σκεψόμεθα· ὅτι δὲ ἐπιστήμη ἐστίν, τοσοῦτον ἐξαρκεῖ πρὸς τὴν ἀπόδειξιν ἣν ἐμὲ δεῖ καὶ Πρωταγόραν ἀποδεῖξαι περὶ ὧν ἤρεσθʼ ἡμᾶς. ἤρεσθε δέ, εἰ μέμνησθε, ἡνίκα ἡμεῖς ἀλλήλοις ὡμολογοῦμεν ἐπιστήμης μηδὲν εἶναι κρεῖττον, ἀλλὰ τοῦτο ἀεὶ κρατεῖν, ὅπου ἂν ἐνῇ, καὶ ἡδονῆς καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἁπάντων· ὑμεῖς δὲ δὴ ἔφατε τὴν ἡδονὴν πολλάκις κρατεῖν καὶ τοῦ εἰδότος ἀνθρώπου, ἐπειδὴ δὲ ὑμῖν οὐχ ὡμολογοῦμεν, μετὰ τοῦτο ἤρεσθε ἡμᾶς· «ὦ Πρωταγόρα τε καὶ Σώκρατες, εἰ μὴ ἔστι τοῦτο τὸ πάθημα ἡδονῆς ἡττᾶσθαι, ἀλλὰ τί ποτʼ ἐστὶν καὶ τί ὑμεῖς αὐτό φατε εἶναι; εἴπατε ἡμῖν.» εἰ μὲν οὖν τότε εὐθὺς ὑμῖν εἴπομεν ὅτι ἀμαθία, κατεγελᾶτε ἂν ἡμῶν· νῦν δὲ ἂν ἡμῶν καταγελᾶτε, καὶ ὑμῶν αὐτῶν καταγελάσεσθε. καὶ γὰρ ὑμεῖς ὡμολογήκατε ἐπιστήμης ἐνδείᾳ ἐξαμαρτάνειν περὶ τὴν τῶν ἡδονῶν αἵρεσιν καὶ λυπῶν τοὺς ἐξαμαρτάνοντας—ταῦτα δέ ἐστιν ἀγαθά τε καὶ κακά—καὶ οὐ μόνον ἐπιστήμης, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἧς τὸ πρόσθεν ἔτι ὡμολογήκατε ὅτι μετρητικῆς· ἡ δὲ ἐξαμαρτανομένη πρᾶξις ἄνευ ἐπιστήμης ἴστε που καὶ αὐτοὶ ὅτι ἀμαθίᾳ πράττεται. ὥστε τοῦτʼ ἐστὶν τὸ ἡδονῆς ἥττω εἶναι, ἀμαθία ἡ μεγίστη, ἧς Πρωταγόρας ὅδε φησὶν ἰατρὸς εἶναι καὶ Πρόδικος καὶ Ἱππίας· ὑμεῖς δὲ διὰ τὸ οἴεσθαι ἄλλο τι ἢ ἀμαθίαν εἶναι οὔτε αὐτοὶ οὔτε τοὺς ὑμετέρους παῖδας παρὰ τοὺς τούτων διδασκάλους τούσδε τοὺς σοφιστὰς πέμπετε, ὡς οὐ διδακτοῦ ὄντος, ἀλλὰ κηδόμενοι τοῦ ἀργυρίου καὶ οὐ διδόντες τούτοις κακῶς πράττετε καὶ ἰδίᾳ καὶ δημοσίᾳ.
to themselves or to each other, and whether near or at a distance; what would be the saving principle of our lives? Would not knowledge?—a knowledge of measuring, when the question is one of excess and defect, and a knowledge of number, when the question is of odd and even? The world will assent, will they not?
Protagoras himself thought that they would.
Well then, my friends, I say to them; seeing that the salvation of human life has been found to consist in the right choice of pleasures and pains,—in the choice of the more and the fewer, and the greater and the less, and the nearer and remoter, must not this measuring be a consideration of their excess and defect and equality in relation to each other?
This is undeniably true.
And this, as possessing measure, must undeniably also be an art and science?
They will agree, he said.
The nature of that art or science will be a matter of future consideration; but the existence of such a science furnishes a demonstrative answer to the question which you asked of me and Protagoras. At the time when you asked the question, if you remember, both of us were agreeing that there was nothing mightier than knowledge, and that knowledge, in whatever existing, must have the advantage over pleasure and all other things; and then you said that pleasure often got the advantage even over a man who has knowledge; and we refused to allow this, and you rejoined: O Protagoras and Socrates, what is the meaning of being overcome by pleasure if not this?—tell us what you call such a state:—if we had immediately and at the time answered ‘Ignorance,’ you would have laughed at us. But now, in laughing at us, you will be laughing at yourselves: for you also admitted that men err in their choice of pleasures and pains; that is, in their choice of good and evil, from defect of knowledge; and you admitted further, that they err, not only from defect of knowledge in general, but of that particular knowledge which is called measuring. And you are also aware that the erring act which is done without knowledge is done in ignorance. This, therefore, is the meaning of being overcome by pleasure;—ignorance, and that the greatest. And our friends Protagoras and Prodicus and Hippias declare that they are the physicians of ignorance; but you, who are under the mistaken impression that ignorance is not the cause, and that the art of which I am speaking cannot be taught, neither go yourselves, nor send your children, to the Sophists, who are the teachers of these things—you take care of your money and give them none; and the result is, that you are the worse off both in public and private life:—Let us suppose this to be our answer to the world in general: And now I should like to ask you, Hippias, and you, Prodicus,
ΣΩ. ταῦτα μὲν τοῖς πολλοῖς ἀποκεκριμένοι ἂν ἦμεν· ὑμᾶς δὲ δὴ μετὰ Πρωταγόρου ἐρωτῶ, ὦ Ἱππία τε καὶ Πρόδικε (κοινὸς γὰρ δὴ ἔστω ὑμῖν ὁ λόγος) πότερον δοκῶ ὑμῖν ἀληθῆ λέγειν ἢ ψεύδεσθαι.—ὑπερφυῶς ἐδόκει ἅπασιν ἀληθῆ εἶναι τὰ εἰρημένα.—ὁμολογεῖτε ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, τὸ μὲν ἡδὺ ἀγαθὸν εἶναι, τὸ δὲ ἀνιαρὸν κακόν. τὴν δὲ Προδίκου τοῦδε διαίρεσιν τῶν ὀνομάτων παραιτοῦμαι· εἴτε γὰρ ἡδὺ εἴτε τερπνὸν λέγεις εἴτε χαρτόν, εἴτε ὁπόθεν καὶ ὅπως χαίρεις τὰ τοιαῦτα ὀνομάζων, ὦ βέλτιστε Πρόδικε, τοῦτό μοι πρὸς ὃ βούλομαι ἀπόκριναι.—γελάσας οὖν ὁ Πρόδικος συνωμολόγησε, καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι.—τί δὲ δή, ὦ ἄνδρες, ἔφην ἐγώ, τὸ τοιόνδε; αἱ ἐπὶ τούτου πράξεις ἅπασαι, ἐπὶ τοῦ ἀλύπως ζῆν καὶ ἡδέως, ἆρʼ οὐ καλαί [καὶ ὠφέλιμοι]; καὶ τὸ καλὸν ἔργον ἀγαθόν τε καὶ ὠφέλιμον;—συνεδόκει.—εἰ ἄρα, ἔφην ἐγώ, τὸ ἡδὺ ἀγαθόν ἐστιν, οὐδεὶς οὔτε εἰδὼς οὔτε οἰόμενος ἄλλα βελτίω εἶναι ἢ ἃ ποιεῖ, καὶ δυνατά, ἔπειτα ποιεῖ ταῦτα, ἐξὸν τὰ βελτίω· οὐδὲ τὸ ἥττω εἶναι αὑτοῦ ἄλλο τι τοῦτʼ ἐστὶν ἢ ἀμαθία, οὐδὲ κρείττω ἑαυτοῦ ἄλλο τι ἢ σοφία.—συνεδόκει πᾶσιν.—τί δὲ δή; ἀμαθίαν ἆρα τὸ τοιόνδε λέγετε, τὸ ψευδῆ ἔχειν δόξαν καὶ ἐψεῦσθαι περὶ τῶν πραγμάτων τῶν πολλοῦ ἀξίων;—καὶ τοῦτο πᾶσι συνεδόκει.—ἄλλο τι οὖν, ἔφην ἐγώ, ἐπί γε τὰ κακὰ οὐδεὶς ἑκὼν ἔρχεται οὐδὲ ἐπὶ ἃ οἴεται κακὰ εἶναι, οὐδʼ ἔστι τοῦτο, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἐν ἀνθρώπου φύσει, ἐπὶ ἃ οἴεται κακὰ εἶναι ἐθέλειν ἰέναι ἀντὶ τῶν ἀγαθῶν· ὅταν τε ἀναγκασθῇ δυοῖν κακοῖν τὸ ἕτερον αἱρεῖσθαι, οὐδεὶς τὸ μεῖζον αἱρήσεται ἐξὸν τὸ ἔλαττον;—ἅπαντα ταῦτα συνεδόκει ἅπασιν ἡμῖν.—τί οὖν; ἔφην ἐγώ, καλεῖτέ τι δέος καὶ φόβον; καὶ ἆρα ὅπερ ἐγώ; (πρὸς σὲ λέγω, ὦ Πρόδικε). προσδοκίαν τινὰ λέγω κακοῦ τοῦτο, εἴτε φόβον εἴτε δέος καλεῖτε.—ἐδόκει Πρωταγόρᾳ μὲν καὶ Ἱππίᾳ δέος τε καὶ φόβος εἶναι τοῦτο, προδίκῳ δὲ δέος, φόβος δʼ οὔ.—ἀλλʼ οὐδέν, ἔφην ἐγώ, Πρόδικε, διαφέρει· ἀλλὰ τόδε. εἰ ἀληθῆ τὰ ἔμπροσθέν ἐστιν, ἆρά τις ἀνθρώπων ἐθελήσει ἐπὶ ταῦτα ἰέναι ἃ δέδοικεν, ἐξὸν ἐπὶ ἃ μή; ἢ ἀδύνατον ἐκ τῶν ὡμολογημένων; ἃ γὰρ δέδοικεν, ὡμολόγηται ἡγεῖσθαι κακὰ εἶναι· ἃ δὲ ἡγεῖται κακά, οὐδένα οὔτε ἰέναι ἐπὶ ταῦτα οὔτε λαμβάνειν ἑκόντα.—ἐδόκει καὶ ταῦτα πᾶσιν.
as well as Protagoras (for the argument is to be yours as well as ours), whether you think that I am speaking the truth or not?
They all thought that what I said was entirely true.
Then you agree, I said, that the pleasant is the good, and the painful evil. And here I would beg my friend Prodicus not to introduce his distinction of names, whether he is disposed to say pleasurable, delightful, joyful. However, by whatever name he prefers to call them, I will ask you, most excellent Prodicus, to answer in my sense of the words.
Prodicus laughed and assented, as did the others.
Then, my friends, what do you say to this? Are not all actions honourable and useful, of which the tendency is to make life painless and pleasant? The honourable work is also useful and good?
This was admitted.
Then, I said, if the pleasant is the good, nobody does anything under the idea or conviction that some other thing would be better and is also attainable, when he might do the better. And this inferiority of a man to himself is merely ignorance, as the superiority of a man to himself is wisdom.
They all assented.
And is not ignorance the having a false opinion and being deceived about important matters?
To this also they unanimously assented.
Then, I said, no man voluntarily pursues evil, or that which he thinks to be evil. To prefer evil to good is not in human nature; and when a man is compelled to choose one of two evils, no one will choose the greater when he may have the less.
All of us agreed to every word of this.
Well, I said, there is a certain thing called fear or terror; and here, Prodicus, I should particularly like to know whether you would agree with me in defining this fear or terror as expectation of evil.
Protagoras and Hippias agreed, but Prodicus said that this was fear and not terror.
ΣΩ. οὕτω δὴ τούτων ὑποκειμένων, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, Πρόδικέ τε καὶ Ἱππία, ἀπολογείσθω ἡμῖν Πρωταγόρας ὅδε ἃ τὸ πρῶτον ἀπεκρίνατο πῶς ὀρθῶς ἔχει—μὴ ἃ τὸ πρῶτον παντάπασι· τότε μὲν γὰρ δὴ πέντε ὄντων μορίων τῆς ἀρετῆς οὐδὲν ἔφη εἶναι τὸ ἕτερον οἷον τὸ ἕτερον, ἰδίαν δὲ αὑτοῦ ἕκαστον ἔχειν δύναμιν· ἀλλʼ οὐ ταῦτα λέγω, ἀλλʼ ἃ τὸ ὕστερον εἶπεν. τὸ γὰρ ὕστερον ἔφη τὰ μὲν τέτταρα ἐπιεικῶς παραπλήσια ἀλλήλοις εἶναι, τὸ δὲ ἓν πάνυ πολὺ διαφέρειν τῶν ἄλλων, τὴν ἀνδρείαν, γνώσεσθαι δέ μʼ ἔφη τεκμηρίῳ τῷδε· εὑρήσεις γάρ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἀνθρώπους ἀνοσιωτάτους μὲν ὄντας καὶ ἀδικωτάτους καὶ ἀκολαστοτάτους καὶ ἀμαθεστάτους, ἀνδρειοτάτους δέ· ᾧ γνώσῃ ὅτι πολὺ διαφέρει ἡ ἀνδρεία τῶν ἄλλων μορίων τῆς ἀρετῆς. καὶ ἐγὼ εὐθὺς τότε πάνυ ἐθαύμασα τὴν ἀπόκρισιν, καὶ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἐπειδὴ ταῦτα μεθʼ ὑμῶν διεξῆλθον. ἠρόμην δʼ οὖν τοῦτον εἰ τοὺς ἀνδρείους λέγοι θαρραλέους· ὁ δέ, καὶ ἴτας γʼ, ἔφη. μέμνησαι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Πρωταγόρα, ταῦτα ἀποκρινόμενος;—ὡμολόγει.—ἴθι δή, ἔφην ἐγώ, εἰπὲ ἡμῖν, ἐπὶ τί λέγεις ἴτας εἶναι τοὺς ἀνδρείους; ἦ ἐφʼ ἅπερ οἱ δειλοί;—οὐκ ἔφη.—οὐκοῦν ἐφʼ ἕτερα.—ναί, ἦ δʼ ὅς.—πότερον οἱ μὲν δειλοὶ ἐπὶ τὰ θαρραλέα ἔρχονται, οἱ δὲ ἀνδρεῖοι ἐπὶ τὰ δεινά;—λέγεται δή, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὕτως ὑπὸ τῶν ἀνθρώπων.—ἀληθῆ, ἔφην ἐγώ, λέγεις· ἀλλʼ οὐ τοῦτο ἐρωτῶ, ἀλλὰ σὺ ἐπὶ τί φῂς ἴτας εἶναι τοὺς ἀνδρείους; ἆρʼ ἐπὶ τὰ δεινά, ἡγουμένους δεινὰ εἶναι, ἢ ἐπὶ τὰ μή;—ἀλλὰ τοῦτό γʼ, ἔφη, ἐν οἷς σὺ ἔλεγες τοῖς λόγοις ἀπεδείχθη ἄρτι ὅτι ἀδύνατον.—καὶ τοῦτο, ἔφην ἐγώ, ἀληθὲς λέγεις· ὥστʼ εἰ τοῦτο ὀρθῶς ἀπεδείχθη, ἐπὶ μὲν ἃ δεινὰ ἡγεῖται εἶναι οὐδεὶς ἔρχεται, ἐπειδὴ τὸ ἥττω εἶναι ἑαυτοῦ ηὑρέθη ἀμαθία οὖσα.—ὡμολόγει.—ἀλλὰ μὴν ἐπὶ ἅ γε θαρροῦσι πάντες αὖ ἔρχονται, καὶ δειλοὶ καὶ ἀνδρεῖοι, καὶ ταύτῃ γε ἐπὶ τὰ αὐτὰ ἔρχονται οἱ δειλοί τε καὶ οἱ ἀνδρεῖοι.—ἀλλὰ μέντοι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, πᾶν γε τοὐναντίον ἐστὶν ἐπὶ ἃ οἵ τε δειλοὶ ἔρχονται καὶ οἱ ἀνδρεῖοι. αὐτίκα εἰς τὸν πόλεμον οἱ μὲν ἐθέλουσιν ἰέναι, οἱ δὲ οὐκ ἐθέλουσιν.—πότερον, ἔφην ἐγώ, καλὸν ὂν ἰέναι ἢ αἰσχρόν;—καλόν, ἔφη.—οὐκοῦν εἴπερ καλόν, καὶ ἀγαθὸν ὡμολογήσαμεν ἐν τοῖς ἔμπροσθεν· τὰς γὰρ καλὰς πράξεις ἁπάσας ἀγαθὰς ὡμολογήσαμεν.—ἀληθῆ λέγεις, καὶ ἀεὶ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ οὕτως.—
Never mind, Prodicus, I said; but let me ask whether, if our former assertions are true, a man will pursue that which he fears when he is not compelled? Would not this be in flat contradiction to the admission which has been already made, that he thinks the things which he fears to be evil; and no one will pursue or voluntarily accept that which he thinks to be evil?
That also was universally admitted.
Then, I said, these, Hippias and Prodicus, are our premisses; and I would beg Protagoras to explain to us how he can be right in what he said at first. I do not mean in what he said quite at first, for his first statement, as you may remember, was that whereas there were five parts of virtue none of them was like any other of them; each of them had a separate function. To this, however, I am not referring, but to the assertion which he afterwards made that of the five virtues four were nearly akin to each other, but that the fifth, which was courage, differed greatly from the others. And of this he gave me the following proof. He said: You will find, Socrates, that some of the most impious, and unrighteous, and intemperate, and ignorant of men are among the most courageous; which proves that courage is very different from the other parts of virtue. I was surprised at his saying this at the time, and I am still more surprised now that I have discussed the matter with you. So I asked him whether by the brave he meant the confident. Yes, he replied, and the impetuous or goers. (You may remember, Protagoras, that this was your answer.)
He assented.
Well then, I said, tell us against what are the courageous ready to go—against the same dangers as the cowards?
No, he answered.
Then against something different?
Yes, he said.
Then do cowards go where there is safety, and the courageous where there is danger?
Yes, Socrates, so men say.
Very
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