ἥκιστά γʼ, ἔφη. οἶμαι γοῦν, εἶπον, δίκαιά τε καὶ καλὰ ἀγνοούμενα ὅπῃ ποτὲ ἀγαθά ἐστιν, οὐ πολλοῦ τινος ἄξιον φύλακα κεκτῆσθαι ἂν ἑαυτῶν τὸν τοῦτο ἀγνοοῦντα· μαντεύομαι δὲ μηδένα αὐτὰ πρότερον γνώσεσθαι ἱκανῶς. καλῶς γάρ, ἔφη, μαντεύῃ. οὐκοῦν ἡμῖν ἡ πολιτεία τελέως κεκοσμήσεται, ἐὰν ὁ τοιοῦτος αὐτὴν ἐπισκοπῇ φύλαξ, ὁ τούτων ἐπιστήμων; ἀνάγκη, ἔφη. ἀλλὰ σὺ δή, ὦ Σώκρατες, πότερον ἐπιστήμην τὸ ἀγαθὸν φῂς εἶναι ἢ ἡδονήν, ἢ ἄλλο τι παρὰ ταῦτα; οὗτος, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἀνήρ, καλῶς ἦσθα καὶ πάλαι καταφανὴς ὅτι σοι οὐκ ἀποχρήσοι τὸ τοῖς ἄλλοις δοκοῦν περὶ αὐτῶν. οὐδὲ γὰρ δίκαιόν μοι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, φαίνεται τὰ τῶν ἄλλων μὲν ἔχειν εἰπεῖν δόγματα, τὸ δʼ αὑτοῦ μή, τοσοῦτον χρόνον περὶ ταῦτα πραγματευόμενον. τί δέ; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· δοκεῖ σοι δίκαιον εἶναι περὶ ὧν τις μὴ οἶδεν λέγειν ὡς εἰδότα; οὐδαμῶς γʼ, ἔφη, ὡς εἰδότα, ὡς μέντοι οἰόμενον ταῦθʼ ἃ οἴεται ἐθέλειν λέγειν. τί δέ; εἶπον· οὐκ ᾔσθησαι τὰς ἄνευ ἐπιστήμης δόξας, ὡς πᾶσαι αἰσχραί; ὧν αἱ βέλτισται τυφλαί—ἢ δοκοῦσί τί σοι τυφλῶν διαφέρειν ὁδὸν ὀρθῶς πορευομένων οἱ ἄνευ νοῦ ἀληθές τι δοξάζοντες; οὐδέν, ἔφη. βούλει οὖν αἰσχρὰ θεάσασθαι, τυφλά τε καὶ σκολιά, ἐξὸν παρʼ ἄλλων ἀκούειν φανά τε καὶ καλά; μὴ πρὸς Διός, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὁ Γλαύκων, ὥσπερ ἐπὶ τέλει ὢν ἀποστῇς. ἀρκέσει γὰρ ἡμῖν, κἂν ὥσπερ δικαιοσύνης πέρι καὶ σωφροσύνης καὶ τῶν ἄλλων διῆλθες, οὕτω καὶ περὶ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ διέλθῃς. καὶ γὰρ ἐμοί, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ ἑταῖρε, καὶ μάλα ἀρκέσει· ἀλλʼ ὅπως μὴ οὐχ οἷός τʼ ἔσομαι, προθυμούμενος δὲ ἀσχημονῶν γέλωτα ὀφλήσω. ἀλλʼ, ὦ μακάριοι, αὐτὸ μὲν τί ποτʼ ἐστὶ τἀγαθὸν ἐάσωμεν τὸ νῦν εἶναι—πλέον γάρ μοι φαίνεται ἢ κατὰ τὴν παροῦσαν ὁρμὴν ἐφικέσθαι τοῦ γε δοκοῦντος ἐμοὶ τὰ νῦν—ὃς δὲ ἔκγονός τε τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ φαίνεται καὶ ὁμοιότατος ἐκείνῳ, λέγειν ἐθέλω, εἰ καὶ ὑμῖν φίλον, εἰ δὲ μή, ἐᾶν. ἀλλʼ, ἔφη, λέγε· εἰς αὖθις γὰρ τοῦ πατρὸς ἀποτείσεις τὴν διήγησιν.
“Least of all,” he said. “I fancy, at any rate,” said I, “that the just and the honorable, if their relation and reference to the good is not known, will not have secured a guardian of much worth in the man thus ignorant, and my surmise is that no one will understand them adequately before he knows this.” “You surmise well,” he said. “Then our constitution will have its perfect and definitive organization only when such a guardian, who knows these things, oversees it.” “Necessarily,” he said. “But you yourself, Socrates, do you think that knowledge is the good or pleasure or something else and different?” “What a man it is,” said I; “you made it very plain long ago that you would not be satisfied with what others think about it.” “Why, it does not seem right to me either, Socrates,” he said, “to be ready to state the opinions of others but not one’s own when one has occupied himself with the matter so long.” “But then,” said I, “do you think it right to speak as having knowledge about things one does not know?” “By no means,” he said, “as having knowledge, but one ought to be willing to tell as his opinion what he opines.” “Nay,” said I, “have you not observed that opinions divorced from knowledge are ugly things? The best of them are blind. Or do you think that those who hold some true opinion without intelligence differ appreciably from blind men who go the right way?” “They do not differ at all,” he said. “Is it, then, ugly things that you prefer to contemplate, things blind and crooked, when you might hear from others what is luminous and fair?” “Nay, in heaven’s name, Socrates,” said Glaucon, “do not draw back, as it were, at the very goal. For it will content us if you explain the good even as you set forth the nature of justice, sobriety, and the other virtues.” “It will right well content me, my dear fellow,” I said, “but I fear that my powers may fail and that in my eagerness I may cut a sorry figure and become a laughing-stock. Nay, my beloved, let us dismiss for the time being the nature of the good in itself; for to attain to my present surmise of that seems a pitch above the impulse that wings my flight today. But of what seems to be the offspring of the good and most nearly made in its likeness I am willing to speak if you too wish it, and otherwise to let the matter drop.” “Well, speak on,” he said, “for you will duly pay me the tale of the parent another time.”
βουλοίμην ἄν, εἶπον, ἐμέ τε δύνασθαι αὐτὴν ἀποδοῦναι καὶ ὑμᾶς κομίσασθαι, ἀλλὰ μὴ ὥσπερ νῦν τοὺς τόκους μόνον. τοῦτον δὲ δὴ οὖν τὸν τόκον τε καὶ ἔκγονον αὐτοῦ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ κομίσασθε. εὐλαβεῖσθε μέντοι μή πῃ ἐξαπατήσω ὑμᾶς ἄκων, κίβδηλον ἀποδιδοὺς τὸν λόγον τοῦ τόκου. εὐλαβησόμεθα, ἔφη, κατὰ δύναμιν· ἀλλὰ μόνον λέγε. διομολογησάμενός γʼ ἔφην ἐγώ, καὶ ἀναμνήσας ὑμᾶς τά τʼ ἐν τοῖς ἔμπροσθεν ῥηθέντα καὶ ἄλλοτε ἤδη πολλάκις εἰρημένα. τὰ ποῖα; ἦ δʼ ὅς. πολλὰ καλά, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ πολλὰ ἀγαθὰ καὶ ἕκαστα οὕτως εἶναί φαμέν τε καὶ διορίζομεν τῷ λόγῳ. φαμὲν γάρ. καὶ αὐτὸ δὴ καλὸν καὶ αὐτὸ ἀγαθόν, καὶ οὕτω περὶ πάντων ἃ τότε ὡς πολλὰ ἐτίθεμεν, πάλιν αὖ κατʼ ἰδέαν μίαν ἑκάστου ὡς μιᾶς οὔσης τιθέντες, «ὃ ἔστιν» ἕκαστον προσαγορεύομεν. ἔστι ταῦτα. καὶ τὰ μὲν δὴ ὁρᾶσθαί φαμεν, νοεῖσθαι δʼ οὔ, τὰς δʼ αὖ ἰδέας νοεῖσθαι μέν, ὁρᾶσθαι δʼ οὔ. παντάπασι μὲν οὖν. τῷ οὖν ὁρῶμεν ἡμῶν αὐτῶν τὰ ὁρώμενα; τῇ ὄψει, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ ἀκοῇ τὰ ἀκουόμενα, καὶ ταῖς ἄλλαις αἰσθήσεσι πάντα τὰ αἰσθητά; τί μήν; ἆρʼ οὖν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἐννενόηκας τὸν τῶν αἰσθήσεων δημιουργὸν ὅσῳ πολυτελεστάτην τὴν τοῦ ὁρᾶν τε καὶ ὁρᾶσθαι δύναμιν ἐδημιούργησεν; οὐ πάνυ, ἔφη. ἀλλʼ ὧδε σκόπει. ἔστιν ὅτι προσδεῖ ἀκοῇ καὶ φωνῇ γένους ἄλλου εἰς τὸ τὴν μὲν ἀκούειν, τὴν δὲ ἀκούεσθαι, ὃ ἐὰν μὴ παραγένηται τρίτον, ἡ μὲν οὐκ ἀκούσεται, ἡ δὲ οὐκ ἀκουσθήσεται; οὐδενός, ἔφη. οἶμαι δέ γε, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὐδʼ ἄλλαις πολλαῖς, ἵνα μὴ εἴπω ὅτι οὐδεμιᾷ, τοιούτου προσδεῖ οὐδενός. ἢ σύ τινα ἔχεις εἰπεῖν; οὐκ ἔγωγε, ἦ δʼ ὅς. τὴν δὲ τῆς ὄψεως καὶ τοῦ ὁρατοῦ οὐκ ἐννοεῖς ὅτι προσδεῖται; πῶς; ἐνούσης που ἐν ὄμμασιν ὄψεως καὶ ἐπιχειροῦντος τοῦ ἔχοντος χρῆσθαι αὐτῇ, παρούσης δὲ χρόας ἐν αὐτοῖς, ἐὰν μὴ παραγένηται γένος τρίτον ἰδίᾳ ἐπʼ αὐτὸ τοῦτο πεφυκός, οἶσθα ὅτι ἥ τε ὄψις οὐδὲν ὄψεται, τά τε χρώματα ἔσται ἀόρατα. τίνος δὴ λέγεις, ἔφη, τούτου; ὃ δὴ σὺ καλεῖς, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, φῶς. ἀληθῆ, ἔφη, λέγεις.
“I could wish,” I said, “that I were able to make and you to receive the payment and not merely as now the interest. But at any rate receive this interest and the offspring of the good. Have a care, however, lest I deceive you unintentionally with a false reckoning of the interest.” “We will do our best,” he said, “to be on our guard. Only speak on.” “Yes,” I said, “after first coming to an understanding with you and reminding you of what has been said here before and often on other occasions.” “What?” said he. “We predicate ‘to be’ of many beautiful things and many good things, saying of them severally that they are, and so define them in our speech.” “We do.” “And again, we speak of a self-beautiful and of a good that is only and merely good, and so, in the case of all the things that we then posited as many, we turn about and posit each as a single idea or aspect, assuming it to be a unity and call it that which each really is. ‘It is so.’ ‘And the one class of things we say can be seen but not thought, while the ideas can be thought but not seen.’ ‘By all means.’ ‘With which of the parts of ourselves, with which of our faculties, then, do we see visible things?’ ‘With sight,’ he said. ‘And do we not,’ I said, ‘hear audibles with hearing, and perceive all sensibles with the other senses?’ ‘Surely.’ ‘Have you ever observed,’ said I, ‘how much the greatest expenditure the creator of the senses has lavished on the faculty of seeing and being seen? “Why, no, I have not,” he said. “Well, look at it thus. Do hearing and voice stand in need of another medium so that the one may hear and the other be heard, in the absence of which third element the one will not hear and the other not be heard?” “They need nothing,” he said. “Neither, I fancy,” said I,’ do many others, not to say that none require anything of the sort. Or do you know of any?” “Not I,” he said. “But do you not observe that vision and the visible do have this further need?” “How?” “Though vision may be in the eyes and its possessor may try to use it, and though color be present, yet without the presence of a third thing specifically and naturally adapted to this purpose, you are aware that vision will see nothing and the colors will remain invisible.” “What is this thing of which you speak?” he said. “The thing,” I said, “that you call light.” “You say truly,” he replied.
οὐ σμικρᾷ ἄρα ἰδέᾳ ἡ τοῦ ὁρᾶν αἴσθησις καὶ ἡ τοῦ ὁρᾶσθαι δύναμις τῶν ἄλλων συζεύξεων τιμιωτέρῳ ζυγῷ ἐζύγησαν, εἴπερ μὴ ἄτιμον τὸ φῶς. ἀλλὰ μήν, ἔφη, πολλοῦ γε δεῖ ἄτιμον εἶναι. τίνα οὖν ἔχεις αἰτιάσασθαι τῶν ἐν οὐρανῷ θεῶν τούτου κύριον, οὗ ἡμῖν τὸ φῶς ὄψιν τε ποιεῖ ὁρᾶν ὅτι κάλλιστα καὶ τὰ ὁρώμενα ὁρᾶσθαι; ὅνπερ καὶ σύ, ἔφη, καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι· τὸν ἥλιον γὰρ δῆλον ὅτι ἐρωτᾷς. ἆρʼ οὖν ὧδε πέφυκεν ὄψις πρὸς τοῦτον τὸν θεόν; πῶς; οὐκ ἔστιν ἥλιος ἡ ὄψις οὔτε αὐτὴ οὔτʼ ἐν ᾧ ἐγγίγνεται, ὃ δὴ καλοῦμεν ὄμμα. οὐ γὰρ οὖν. ἀλλʼ ἡλιοειδέστατόν γε οἶμαι τῶν περὶ τὰς αἰσθήσεις ὀργάνων. πολύ γε. οὐκοῦν καὶ τὴν δύναμιν ἣν ἔχει ἐκ τούτου ταμιευομένην ὥσπερ ἐπίρρυτον κέκτηται; πάνυ μὲν οὖν. ἆρʼ οὖν οὐ καὶ ὁ ἥλιος ὄψις μὲν οὐκ ἔστιν, αἴτιος δʼ ὢν αὐτῆς ὁρᾶται ὑπʼ αὐτῆς ταύτης; οὕτως, ἦ δʼ ὅς. τοῦτον τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, φάναι με λέγειν τὸν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ ἔκγονον, ὃν τἀγαθὸν ἐγέννησεν ἀνάλογον ἑαυτῷ, ὅτιπερ αὐτὸ ἐν τῷ νοητῷ τόπῳ πρός τε νοῦν καὶ τὰ νοούμενα, τοῦτο τοῦτον ἐν τῷ ὁρατῷ πρός τε ὄψιν καὶ τὰ ὁρώμενα. πῶς; ἔφη· ἔτι δίελθέ μοι. ὀφθαλμοί, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οἶσθʼ ὅτι, ὅταν μηκέτι ἐπʼ ἐκεῖνά τις αὐτοὺς τρέπῃ ὧν ἂν τὰς χρόας τὸ ἡμερινὸν φῶς ἐπέχῃ, ἀλλὰ ὧν νυκτερινὰ φέγγη, ἀμβλυώττουσί τε καὶ ἐγγὺς φαίνονται τυφλῶν, ὥσπερ οὐκ ἐνούσης καθαρᾶς ὄψεως; καὶ μάλα, ἔφη. ὅταν δέ γʼ οἶμαι ὧν ὁ ἥλιος καταλάμπει, σαφῶς ὁρῶσι, καὶ τοῖς αὐτοῖς τούτοις ὄμμασιν ἐνοῦσα φαίνεται. τί μήν; οὕτω τοίνυν καὶ τὸ τῆς ψυχῆς ὧδε νόει· ὅταν μὲν οὗ καταλάμπει ἀλήθειά τε καὶ τὸ ὄν, εἰς τοῦτο ἀπερείσηται, ἐνόησέν τε καὶ ἔγνω αὐτὸ καὶ νοῦν ἔχειν φαίνεται· ὅταν δὲ εἰς τὸ τῷ σκότῳ κεκραμένον, τὸ γιγνόμενόν τε καὶ ἀπολλύμενον, δοξάζει τε καὶ ἀμβλυώττει ἄνω καὶ κάτω τὰς δόξας μεταβάλλον, καὶ ἔοικεν αὖ νοῦν οὐκ ἔχοντι. ἔοικε γάρ. τοῦτο τοίνυν τὸ τὴν ἀλήθειαν παρέχον τοῖς γιγνωσκομένοις καὶ τῷ γιγνώσκοντι τὴν δύναμιν ἀποδιδὸν τὴν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ ἰδέαν φάθι εἶναι· αἰτίαν δʼ ἐπιστήμης οὖσαν καὶ ἀληθείας, ὡς γιγνωσκομένης μὲν διανοοῦ, οὕτω δὲ καλῶν ἀμφοτέρων ὄντων, γνώσεώς τε καὶ ἀληθείας, ἄλλο καὶ κάλλιον ἔτι τούτων ἡγούμενος αὐτὸ ὀρθῶς ἡγήσῃ·
“The bond, then, that yokes together visibility and the faculty of sight is more precious by no slight form than that which unites the other pairs, if light is not without honor.” “It surely is far from being so,” he said. “Which one can you name of the divinities in heaven as the author and cause of this, whose light makes our vision see best and visible things to be seen?” “Why, the one that you too and other people mean,” he said; “for your question evidently refers to the sun.” “Is not this, then, the relation of vision to that divinity?” “What?” “Neither vision itself nor its vehicle, which we call the eye, is identical with the sun.” “Why, no.” “But it is, I think, the most sunlike of all the instruments of sense.” “By far the most.” “And does it not receive the power which it possesses as an influx, as it were, dispensed from the sun?” “Certainly.” “Is it not also true that the sun is not vision, yet as being the cause thereof is beheld by vision itself?” “That is so,” he said. “This, then, you must understand that I meant by the offspring of the good which the good begot to stand in a proportion with itself: as the good is in the intelligible region to reason and the objects of reason, so is this in the visible world to vision and the objects of vision.” “How is that?” he said; “explain further.” “You are aware,” I said, “that when the eyes are no longer turned upon objects upon whose colors the light of day falls but that of the dim luminaries of night, their edge is blunted and they appear almost blind, as if pure vision did not dwell in them.” “Yes, indeed,” he said. “But when, I take it, they are directed upon objects illumined by the sun, they see clearly, and vision appears to reside in these same eyes.” “Certainly.” “Apply this comparison to the soul also in this way. When it is firmly fixed on the domain where truth and reality shine resplendent it apprehends and knows them and appears to possess reason; but when it inclines to that region which is mingled with darkness, the world of becoming and passing away, it opines only and its edge is blunted, and it shifts its opinions hither and thither, and again seems as if it lacked reason.” “Yes, it does,” “This reality, then, that gives their truth to the objects of knowledge and the power of knowing to the knower, you must say is the idea of good, and you must conceive it as being the cause of knowledge, and of truth in so far as known. Yet fair as they both are, knowledge and truth, in supposing it to be something fairer still than these you will think rightly of it.”
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