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. εἶεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· ἐπειδὴ δὲ οὐδὲ τοῦτο ἐφάνη ἡ δικαιοσύνη ὂν οὐδὲ τὸ δίκαιον, τί ἂν ἄλλο τις αὐτὸ φαίη εἶναι; 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. καὶ ἐγώ τε καὶ ὁ Πολέμαρχος δείσαντες διεπτοήθημεν· ὁ δʼ εἰς τὸ μέσον φθεγξάμενος, τίς, ἔφη, ὑμᾶς πάλαι φλυαρία 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 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. 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, 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.
“Do you know,” said I, “to whom I think the saying belongs—this statement that it is just to benefit friends and harm enemies?” “To whom?” he said. “I think it was the saying of Periander or Perdiccas or Xerxes or Ismenias the Theban or some other rich man who had great power in his own conceit.” “That is most true,” he replied. “Very well,” said I, “since it has been made clear that this too is not justice and the just, what else is there that we might say justice to be?” Now Thrasymachus, even while we were conversing, had been trying several times to break in and lay hold of the discussion but he was restrained by those who sat by him who wished to hear the argument out. But when we came to a pause after I had said this, he couldn’t any longer hold his peace. But gathering himself up like a wild beast he hurled himself upon us as if he would tear us to pieces. And Polemarchus and I were frightened and fluttered apart, and he bawled out into our midst, “What balderdash is this that you have been talking, and why do you Simple Simons truckle and give way to one another? But if you really wish, Socrates, to know what the just is, don’t merely ask questions or plume yourself upon controverting any answer that anyone gives—since your acumen has perceived that it is easier to ask questions than to answer them, but do you yourself answer and tell what you say the just is. And don’t you be telling me that it is that which ought to be, or the beneficial or the profitable or the gainful or the advantageous, but express clearly and precisely whatever you say. For I won’t take from you any such drivel as that!” And I, when I heard him, was dismayed, and looking upon him was filled with fear, and I believe that if I had not looked at him before he did at me I should have lost my voice. But as it is, at the very moment when he began to be exasperated by the course of the argument I glanced at him first, so that I became capable of answering him and said with a light tremor: “Thrasymachus, don’t be harsh with us. If I and my friend have made mistakes in the consideration of the question, rest assured that it is unwillingly that we err. For you surely must not suppose that while if our quest were for gold we would never willingly truckle to one another and make concessions in the search and so spoil our chances of finding it, yet that when we are searching for justice, a thing more precious than much fine gold, we should then be so foolish as to give way to one another and not rather do our serious best to have it discovered.”
οἴου γε σύ, ὦ φίλε. ἀλλʼ οἶμαι οὐ δυνάμεθα· ἐλεεῖσθαι οὖν ἡμᾶς πολὺ 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. σοφὸς γὰρ εἶ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε· εὖ οὖν ᾔδησθα ὅτι εἴ τινα ἔροιο ὁπόσα ἐστὶν τὰ δώδεκα, καὶ ἐρόμενος προείποις 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 τοῦ ἀληθοῦς; ἢ πῶς λέγεις;» τί ἂν αὐτῷ εἶπες πρὸς ταῦτα; 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. τί οὖν, ἔφη, ἂν ἐγὼ δείξω ἑτέραν ἀπόκρισιν παρὰ πάσας ταύτας περὶ δικαιοσύνης, βελτίω τούτων; τί ἀξιοῖς παθεῖν; 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. πάνυ γε οἶμαι, ἦ δʼ ὅς· ἵνα Σωκράτης τὸ εἰωθὸς διαπράξηται· αὐτὸς μὲν μὴ ἀποκρίνηται, ἄλλου δʼ ἀποκρινομένου λαμβάνῃ λόγον καὶ ἐλέγχῃ.
“You surely must not suppose that, my friend. But you see it is our lack of ability that is at fault. It is pity then that we should far more reasonably receive from clever fellows like you than severity.” And he on hearing this gave a great guffaw and laughed sardonically and said, “Ye gods! here we have the well-known irony of Socrates, and I knew it and predicted that when it came to replying you would refuse and dissemble and do anything rather than answer any question that anyone asked you.” “That’s because you are wise, Thrasymachus, and so you knew very well that if you asked a man how many are twelve, and in putting the question warned him: don’t you be telling me, fellow, that twelve is twice six or three times four or six times two or four times three, for I won’t accept any such drivel as that from you as an answer—it was obvious I fancy to you that no one could give an answer to a question framed in that fashion. Suppose he had said to you, ‘Thrasymachus, what do you mean? Am I not to give any of the prohibited answers, not even, do you mean to say, if the thing really is one of these, but must I say something different from the truth, or what do you mean?’ What would have been your answer to him?” “Humph!” said he, “how very like the two cases are!” “There is nothing to prevent,” said I; “yet even granted that they are not alike, yet if it appears to the person asked the question that they are alike, do you suppose that he will any the less answer what appears to him, whether we forbid him or whether we don’t?” “Is that, then,” said he, “what you are going to do? Are you going to give one of the forbidden answers?” “I shouldn’t be surprised,” I said, “if on reflection that would be my view.” “What then,” he said, “if I show you another answer about justice differing from all these, a better one—what penalty do you think you deserve?” “Why, what else,” said I, “than that which it befits anyone who is ignorant to suffer? It befits him, I presume, to learn from the one who does know. That then is what I propose that I should suffer.” “I like your simplicity,” said he; “but in addition to ‘learning’you must pay a fine of money.” “Well, I will when I have got it,” I said. “It is there,” said Glaucon: “if money is all that stands in the way, Thrasymachus, go on with your speech. We will all contribute for Socrates.” “Oh yes, of course,” said he, “so that Socrates may contrive, as he always does, to evade answering himself but may cross-examine the other man and refute his replies.”
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 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. 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, κἄπειτα, αὕτη δή, ἔφη, ἡ Σωκράτους σοφία· αὐτὸν μὲν μὴ ἐθέλειν διδάσκειν, παρὰ δὲ τῶν ἄλλων περιιόντα μανθάνειν καὶ τούτων μηδὲ χάριν ἀποδιδόναι. 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. 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. 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 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. 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. 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.
“Why, how,” I said, “my dear fellow, could anybody answer if in the first place he did not know and did not even profess to know, and secondly even if he had some notion of the matter, he had been told by a man of weight that he mustn’t give any of his suppositions as an answer? Nay, it is more reasonable that you should be the speaker. For you do affirm that you know and are able to tell. Don’t be obstinate, but do me the favor to reply and don’t be chary of your wisdom, and instruct Glaucon here and the rest of us.” When I had spoken thus Glaucon and the others urged him not to be obstinate. It was quite plain that Thrasymachus was eager to speak in order that he might do himself credit, since he believed that he had a most excellent answer to our question. But he demurred and pretended to make a point of my being the respondent. Finally he gave way and then said, “Here you have the wisdom of Socrates, to refuse himself to teach, but go about and learn from others and not even pay thanks therefor.” “That I learn from others,” I said, “you said truly, Thrasymachus. But in saying that I do not pay thanks you are mistaken. I pay as much as I am able. And I am able only to bestow praise. For money I lack. But that I praise right willingly those who appear to speak well you will well know forthwith as soon as you have given your answer. For I think that you will speak well.” “Hearken and hear then,” said he. “I affirm that the just is nothing else than the advantage of the stronger. Well, why don’t you applaud? Nay, you’ll do anything but that.” “Provided only I first understand your meaning,” said I; “for I don’t yet apprehend it. The advantage of the stronger is what you affirm the just to be. But what in the world do you mean by this? I presume you don’t intend to affirm this, that if Polydamas the pancratiast is stronger than we are and the flesh of beeves is advantageous for him, for his body, this viand is also for us who are weaker than he both advantageous and just.” “You’re a buffoon, Socrates, and take my statement in the most detrimental sense.” “Not at all, my dear fellow” said I; “I only want you to make your meaning plainer.” “Don’t you know then,” said he, “that some cities are governed by tyrants, in others democracy rules, in others aristocracy?” “Assuredly.” “And is not this the thing that is strong and has the mastery in each—the ruling party?” “Certainly.” “And each form of government enacts the laws with a view to its own advantage, a democracy democratic laws and tyranny autocratic and the others likewise, and by so legislating they proclaim that the just for their subjects is that which is for their—the rulers’—advantage and the man who deviates from this law they chastise as a law-breaker and a wrongdoer.”
τοῦτʼ οὖν ἐστιν, ὦ βέλτιστε, ὃ λέγω ἐν ἁπάσαις 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.» σμικρά γε ἴσως, ἔφη, προσθήκη. 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. πότερον δὲ ἀναμάρτητοί εἰσιν οἱ ἄρχοντες ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν ἑκάσταις ἢ οἷοί τι καὶ ἁμαρτεῖν; πάντως που, ἔφη, οἷοί τι καὶ ἁμαρτεῖν. 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; οὐ μόνον ἄρα δίκαιόν ἐστιν κατὰ τὸν σὸν λόγον τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον ποιεῖν ἀλλὰ καὶ τοὐναντίον, τὸ μὴ συμφέρον. τί λέγεις σύ; ἔφη. 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. 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.
“This, then, my good sir, is what I understand as the identical principle of justice that obtains in all states —the advantage of the established government. This I presume you will admit holds power and is strong, so that, if one reasons rightly, it works out that the just is the same thing everywhere, the advantage of the stronger.” “Now,” said I, “I have learned your meaning, but whether it is true or not I have to try to learn. The advantageous, then, is also your reply, Thrasymachus, to the question, what is the just—though you forbade me to give that answer. But you add thereto that of the stronger.” “A trifling addition perhaps you think it,” he said. “It is not yet clear whether it is a big one either; but that we must inquire whether what you say is true, is clear. For since I too admit that the just is something that is of advantage—but you are for making an addition and affirm it to be the advantage of the stronger, while I don’t profess to know, we must pursue the inquiry.” “Inquire away,” he said. “I will do so,” said I. “Tell me, then; you affirm also, do you not, that obedience to rulers is just?” “I do.” “May I ask whether the rulers in the various states are infallible or capable sometimes of error?” “Surely,” he said, “they are liable to err.” “Then in their attempts at legislation they enact some laws rightly and some not rightly, do they not?” “So I suppose.” “And by rightly we are to understand for their advantage, and by wrongly to their disadvantage? Do you mean that or not?” “That.” “But whatever they enact must be performed by their subjects and is justice?” “Of course.” “Then on your theory it is just not only to do what is the advantage of the stronger but also the opposite, what is not to his advantage.” “What’s that you’re saying?” he replied. “What you yourself are saying, I think. Let us consider it more closely. Have we not agreed that the rulers in giving orders to the ruled sometimes mistake their own advantage, and that whatever the rulers enjoin is just for the subjects to perform? Was not that admitted?” “I think it was,” he replied. “Then you will have to think,” I said, “that to do what is disadvantageous to the rulers and the stronger has been admitted by you to be just in the case when the rulers unwittingly enjoin what is bad for themselves, while you affirm that it is just for the others to do what they enjoined. In that way does not this conclusion inevitably follow, my most sapient Thrasymachus, that it is just to do the very opposite of what you say? For it is in that case surely the disadvantage of the stronger or superior that the inferior are commanded to perform.”
ναὶ μὰ Δίʼ, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὁ Πολέμαρχος, σαφέστατά γε. ἐὰν σύ γʼ, ἔφη, αὐτῷ μαρτυρήσῃς, ὁ Κλειτοφῶν ὑπολαβών. 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 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. 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. 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; 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. 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 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.
“Yes, by Zeus, Socrates,” said Polemarchus, “nothing could be more conclusive.” “Of course,” said Cleitophon, breaking in, “if you are his witness.” “What need is there of a witness?” Polemarchus said. “Thrasymachus himself admits that the rulers sometimes enjoin what is evil for themselves and yet says that it is just for the subjects to do this.” “That, Polemarchus, is because Thrasymachus laid it down that it is just to obey the orders of the rulers.” “Yes, Cleitophon, but he also took the position that the advantage of the stronger is just. And after these two assumptions he again admitted that the stronger sometimes bid the inferior and their subjects do what is to the disadvantage of the rulers. And from these admissions the just would no more be the advantage of the stronger than the contrary.” “O well,” said Cleitophon, “by the advantage of the superior he meant what the superior supposed to be for his advantage. This was what the inferior had to do, and that this is the just was his position.” “That isn’t what he said,” replied Polemarchus. “Never mind, Polemarchus,” said I, “but if that is Thrasymachus’s present meaning, let us take it from him in that sense. So tell me, Thrasymachus, was this what you intended to say, that the just is the advantage of the superior as it appears to the superior whether it really is or not? Are we to say this was your meaning?” “Not in the least,” he said. “Do you suppose that I call one who is in error a superior when he errs?” “I certainly did suppose that you meant that,” I replied, “when you agreed that rulers are not infallible but sometimes make mistakes.” “That is because you argue like a pettifogger, Socrates. Why, to take the nearest example, do you call one who is mistaken about the sick a physician in respect of his mistake or one who goes wrong in a calculation a calculator when he goes wrong and in respect of this error? Yet that is what we say literally—we say that the physician erred and the calculator and the schoolmaster. But the truth, I take it, is, that each of these in so far as he is that which we entitle him never errs; so that, speaking precisely, since you are such a stickler for precision, no craftsman errs. For it is when his knowledge abandons him that he who goes wrong goes wrong—when he is not a craftsman. So that no craftsman, wise man, or ruler makes a mistake then when he is a ruler, though everybody would use the expression that the physician made a mistake and the ruler erred.”
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