ΘΕΑΙ. ἀληθέστατα λέγεις, ὦ Σώκρατες.
ΣΩ. τίς δὴ οὖν, ὦ παῖ, λείπεται λόγος τῷ τὴν αἴσθησιν ἐπιστήμην τιθεμένῳ καὶ τὰ φαινόμενα ἑκάστῳ ταῦτα καὶ εἶναι τούτῳ ᾧ φαίνεται;
ΘΕΑΙ. ἐγὼ μέν, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὀκνῶ εἰπεῖν ὅτι οὐκ ἔχω τί λέγω, διότι μοι νυνδὴ ἐπέπληξας εἰπόντι αὐτό. ἐπεὶ ὡς ἀληθῶς γε οὐκ ἂν δυναίμην ἀμφισβητῆσαι ὡς οἱ μαινόμενοι ἢ [οἱ] ὀνειρώττοντες οὐ ψευδῆ δοξάζουσιν, ὅταν οἱ μὲν θεοὶ αὐτῶν οἴωνται εἶναι, οἱ δὲ πτηνοί τε καὶ ὡς πετόμενοι ἐν τῷ ὕπνῳ διανοῶνται.
ΣΩ. ἆρʼ οὖν οὐδὲ τὸ τοιόνδε ἀμφισβήτημα ἐννοεῖς περὶ αὐτῶν, μάλιστα δὲ περὶ τοῦ ὄναρ τε καὶ ὕπαρ;
ΘΕΑΙ. τὸ ποῖον;
ΣΩ. ὃ πολλάκις σε οἶμαι ἀκηκοέναι ἐρωτώντων, τί ἄν τις ἔχοι τεκμήριον ἀποδεῖξαι, εἴ τις ἔροιτο νῦν οὕτως ἐν τῷ παρόντι πότερον καθεύδομεν καὶ πάντα ἃ διανοούμεθα ὀνειρώττομεν, ἢ ἐγρηγόραμέν τε καὶ ὕπαρ ἀλλήλοις διαλεγόμεθα.
ΘΕΑΙ. καὶ μήν, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἄπορόν γε ὅτῳ χρὴ ἐπιδεῖξαι τεκμηρίῳ· πάντα γὰρ ὥσπερ ἀντίστροφα τὰ αὐτὰ παρακολουθεῖ. ἅ τε γὰρ νυνὶ διειλέγμεθα οὐδὲν κωλύει καὶ ἐν τῷ ὕπνῳ δοκεῖν ἀλλήλοις διαλέγεσθαι· καὶ ὅταν δὴ ὄναρ ὀνείρατα δοκῶμεν διηγεῖσθαι, ἄτοπος ἡ ὁμοιότης τούτων ἐκείνοις.
ΣΩ. ὁρᾷς οὖν ὅτι τό γε ἀμφισβητῆσαι οὐ χαλεπόν, ὅτε καὶ πότερόν ἐστιν ὕπαρ ἢ ὄναρ ἀμφισβητεῖται, καὶ δὴ ἴσου ὄντος τοῦ χρόνου ὃν καθεύδομεν ᾧ ἐγρηγόραμεν, ἐν ἑκατέρῳ διαμάχεται ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχὴ τὰ ἀεὶ παρόντα δόγματα παντὸς μᾶλλον εἶναι ἀληθῆ, ὥστε ἴσον μὲν χρόνον τάδε φαμὲν ὄντα εἶναι, ἴσον δὲ ἐκεῖνα, καὶ ὁμοίως ἐφʼ ἑκατέροις διισχυριζόμεθα.
ΘΕΑΙ. παντάπασι μὲν οὖν.
ΣΩ. οὐκοῦν καὶ περὶ νόσων τε καὶ μανιῶν ὁ αὐτὸς λόγος, πλὴν τοῦ χρόνου ὅτι οὐχὶ ἴσος;
ΘΕΑΙ. ὀρθῶς.
ΣΩ. τί οὖν; πλήθει χρόνου καὶ ὀλιγότητι τὸ ἀληθὲς ὁρισθήσεται;
ΘΕΑΙ. γελοῖον μεντἂν εἴη πολλαχῇ.
ΣΩ. ἀλλά τι ἄλλο ἔχεις σαφὲς ἐνδείξασθαι ὁποῖα τούτων τῶν δοξασμάτων ἀληθῆ;
ΘΕΑΙ. οὔ μοι δοκῶ.
ΣΩ. ἐμοῦ τοίνυν ἄκουε οἷα περὶ αὐτῶν ἂν λέγοιεν οἱ τὰ ἀεὶ δοκοῦντα ὁριζόμενοι τῷ δοκοῦντι εἶναι ἀληθῆ. λέγουσι δέ, ὡς ἐγὼ οἶμαι, οὕτως ἐρωτῶντες· «ὦ Θεαίτητε, ὃ ἂν ἕτερον ᾖ παντάπασιν, μή πῄ τινα δύναμιν τὴν αὐτὴν ἕξει τῷ ἑτέρῳ; καὶ μὴ ὑπολάβωμεν τῇ μὲν ταὐτὸν εἶναι ὃ ἐρωτῶμεν τῇ δὲ ἕτερον, ἀλλʼ ὅλως ἕτερον.»
THEAET. What you say is very true, Socrates.
SOC. What argument is left, then, my boy, for the man who says that perception is knowledge and that in each case the things which appear are to the one to whom they appear?
THEAET. I hesitate to say, Socrates, that I have no reply to make, because you scolded me just now when I said that. But really I cannot dispute that those who are insane or dreaming have false opinions, when some of them think they are gods and others fancy in their sleep that they have wings and are flying.
SOC. Don’t you remember, either, the similar dispute about these errors, especially about sleeping and waking?
THEAET. What dispute?
SOC. One which I fancy you have often heard. The question is asked, what proof you could give if anyone should ask us now, at the present moment, whether we are asleep and our thoughts are a dream, or whether we are awake and talking with each other in a waking condition.
THEAET. Really, Socrates, I don’t see what proof can be given; for there is an exact correspondence in all particulars, as between the strophe and antistrophe of a choral song. Take, for instance, the conversation we have just had: there is nothing to prevent us from imagining in our sleep also that we are carrying on this conversation with each other, and when in a dream we imagine that we are relating dreams, the likeness between the one talk and the other is remarkable.
SOC. So you see it is not hard to dispute the point, since it is even open to dispute whether we are awake or in a dream. Now since the time during which we are asleep is equal to that during which we are awake, in each state our spirit contends that the semblances that appear to it at any time are certainly true, so that for half the time we say that this is true, and for half the time the other, and we maintain each with equal confidence.
THEAET. Certainly.
SOC. And may not, then, the same be said about insanity and the other diseases, except that the time is not equal?
THEAET. Yes.
SOC. Well, then, shall truth be determined by the length or shortness of time?
THEAET. That would be absurd in many ways.
SOC. But can you show clearly in any other way which of the two sets of opinions is true?
THEAET. I do not think I can.
SOC. Listen, then, while I tell you what would be said about them by those who maintain that what appears at any time is true for him to whom it appears. They begin, I imagine, by asking this question: “Theaetetus, can that which is wholly other have in any way the same quality as its alternative? And we must not assume that the thing in question is partially the same and partially other, but wholly other.”
ΘΕΑΙ. ἀδύνατον τοίνυν ταὐτόν τι ἔχειν ἢ ἐν δυνάμει ἢ ἐν ἄλλῳ ὁτῳοῦν, ὅταν ᾖ κομιδῇ ἕτερον.
ΣΩ. ἆρʼ οὖν οὐ καὶ ἀνόμοιον ἀναγκαῖον τὸ τοιοῦτον ὁμολογεῖν;
ΘΕΑΙ. ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.
ΣΩ. εἰ ἄρα τι συμβαίνει ὅμοιόν τῳ γίγνεσθαι ἢ ἀνόμοιον, εἴτε ἑαυτῷ εἴτε ἄλλῳ, ὁμοιούμενον μὲν ταὐτὸν φήσομεν γίγνεσθαι, ἀνομοιούμενον δὲ ἕτερον;
ΘΕΑΙ. ἀνάγκη.
ΣΩ. οὐκοῦν πρόσθεν ἐλέγομεν ὡς πολλὰ μὲν εἴη τὰ ποιοῦντα καὶ ἄπειρα, ὡσαύτως δέ γε τὰ πάσχοντα;
ΘΕΑΙ. ναί.
ΣΩ. καὶ μὴν ὅτι γε ἄλλο ἄλλῳ συμμειγνύμενον καὶ ἄλλῳ οὐ ταὐτὰ ἀλλʼ ἕτερα γεννήσει;
ΘΕΑΙ. πάνυ μὲν οὖν.
ΣΩ. λέγωμεν δὴ ἐμέ τε καὶ σὲ καὶ τἆλλα ἤδη κατὰ τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον, Σωκράτη ὑγιαίνοντα καὶ Σωκράτη αὖ ἀσθενοῦντα. πότερον ὅμοιον τοῦτʼ ἐκείνῳ ἢ ἀνόμοιον φήσομεν;
ΘΕΑΙ. ἆρα τὸν ἀσθενοῦντα Σωκράτη, ὅλον τοῦτο λέγεις ὅλῳ ἐκείνῳ, τῷ ὑγιαίνοντι Σωκράτει;
ΣΩ. κάλλιστα ὑπέλαβες· αὐτὸ τοῦτο λέγω.
ΘΕΑΙ. ἀνόμοιον δήπου.
ΣΩ. καὶ ἕτερον ἄρα οὕτως ὥσπερ ἀνόμοιον;
ΘΕΑΙ. ἀνάγκη.
ΣΩ. καὶ καθεύδοντα δὴ καὶ πάντα ἃ νυνδὴ διήλθομεν, ὡσαύτως φήσεις;
ΘΕΑΙ. ἔγωγε.
ΣΩ. ἕκαστον δὴ τῶν πεφυκότων τι ποιεῖν, ἄλλο τι, ὅταν μὲν λάβῃ ὑγιαίνοντα Σωκράτη, ὡς ἑτέρῳ μοι χρήσεται, ὅταν δὲ ἀσθενοῦντα, ὡς ἑτέρῳ;
ΘΕΑΙ. τί δʼ οὐ μέλλει;
ΣΩ. καὶ ἕτερα δὴ ἐφʼ ἑκατέρου γεννήσομεν ἐγώ τε ὁ πάσχων καὶ ἐκεῖνο τὸ ποιοῦν;
ΘΕΑΙ. τί μήν;
ΣΩ. ὅταν δὴ οἶνον πίνω ὑγιαίνων, ἡδύς μοι φαίνεται καὶ γλυκύς;
ΘΕΑΙ. ναί.
ΣΩ. ἐγέννησε γὰρ δὴ ἐκ τῶν προωμολογημένων τό τε ποιοῦν καὶ τὸ πάσχον γλυκύτητά τε καὶ αἴσθησιν, ἅμα φερόμενα ἀμφότερα, καὶ ἡ μὲν αἴσθησις πρὸς τοῦ πάσχοντος οὖσα αἰσθανομένην τὴν γλῶτταν ἀπηργάσατο, ἡ δὲ γλυκύτης πρὸς τοῦ οἴνου περὶ αὐτὸν φερομένη γλυκὺν τὸν οἶνον τῇ ὑγιαινούσῃ γλώττῃ ἐποίησεν καὶ εἶναι καὶ φαίνεσθαι.
ΘΕΑΙ. πάνυ μὲν οὖν τὰ πρότερα ἡμῖν οὕτως ὡμολόγητο.
ΣΩ. ὅταν δὲ ἀσθενοῦντα, ἄλλο τι πρῶτον μὲν τῇ ἀληθείᾳ οὐ τὸν αὐτὸν ἔλαβεν; ἀνομοίῳ γὰρ δὴ προσῆλθεν.
ΘΕΑΙ. ναί.
ΣΩ. ἕτερα δὴ αὖ ἐγεννησάτην ὅ τε τοιοῦτος Σωκράτης καὶ ἡ τοῦ οἴνου πόσις, περὶ μὲν τὴν γλῶτταν αἴσθησιν πικρότητος, περὶ δὲ τὸν οἶνον γιγνομένην καὶ φερομένην πικρότητα, καὶ τὸν μὲν οὐ πικρότητα ἀλλὰ πικρόν, ἐμὲ δὲ οὐκ αἴσθησιν ἀλλʼ αἰσθανόμενον;
ΘΕΑΙ. κομιδῇ μὲν οὖν.
THEAET. It is impossible for it to be the same in anything, either in quality or in any other respect whatsoever, when it is wholly other.
SOC. Must we not, then, necessarily agree that such a thing is also unlike?
THEAET. It seems so to me.
SOC. Then if anything happens to become like or unlike anything—either itself or anything else—we shall say that when it becomes like it becomes the same, and when it becomes unlike it becomes other?
THEAET. We must.
SOC. Well, we said before, did we not, that the active elements were many—infinite in fact—and likewise the passive elements?
THEAET. Yes.
SOC. And furthermore, that any given element, by uniting at different times with different partners, will beget, not the same, but other results?
THEAET. Certainly.
SOC. Well, then, let us take me, or you, or anything else at hand, and apply the same principle—say Socrates in health and Socrates in illness. Shall we say the one is like the other, or unlike?
THEAET. When you say “Socrates in illness” do you mean to compare that Socrates as a whole with Socrates in health as a whole?
SOC. You understand perfectly; that is just what I mean.
THEAET. Unlike, I imagine.
SOC. And therefore other, inasmuch as unlike?
THEAET. Necessarily.
SOC. And you would say the same of Socrates asleep or in any of the other states we enumerated just now?
THEAET. Yes.
SOC. Then each of those elements which by the law of their nature act upon something else, will, when it gets hold of Socrates in health, find me one object to act upon, and when it gets hold of me in illness, another?
THEAET. How can it help it?
SOC. And so, in the two cases, that active element and I, who am the passive element, shall each produce a different object?
THEAET. Of course.
SOC. So, then, when I am in health and drink wine, it seems pleasant and sweet to me?
THEAET. Yes.
SOC. The reason is, in fact, that according to the principles we accepted a while ago, the active and passive elements produce sweetness and perception, both of which are simultaneously moving from one place to another, and the perception, which comes from the passive element, makes the tongue perceptive, and the sweetness, which comes from the wine and pervades it, passes over and makes the wine both to be and to seem sweet to the tongue that is in health.
THEAET. Certainly, such are the principles we accepted a while ago.
SOC. But when it gets hold of me in illness, in the first place, it really doesn’t get hold of the same man, does it? For he to whom it comes is certainly unlike.
THEAET. True.
SOC. Therefore the union of the Socrates who is ill and the draught of wine produces other results: in the tongue the sensation or perception of bitterness, and in the wine—a bitterness which is engendered there and passes over into the other; the wine is made, not bitterness, but bitter, and I am made, not perception, but perceptive.
THEAET. Certainly.
ΣΩ. οὔκουν ἐγώ τε οὐδὲν ἄλλο ποτὲ γενήσομαι οὕτως αἰσθανόμενος· τοῦ γὰρ ἄλλου ἄλλη αἴσθησις, καὶ ἀλλοῖον καὶ ἄλλον ποιεῖ τὸν αἰσθανόμενον· οὔτʼ ἐκεῖνο τὸ ποιοῦν ἐμὲ μήποτʼ ἄλλῳ συνελθὸν ταὐτὸν γεννῆσαν τοιοῦτον γένηται· ἀπὸ γὰρ ἄλλου ἄλλο γεννῆσαν ἀλλοῖον γενήσεται.
ΘΕΑΙ. ἔστι ταῦτα.
ΣΩ. οὐδὲ μὴν ἔγωγε ἐμαυτῷ τοιοῦτος, ἐκεῖνό τε ἑαυτῷ τοιοῦτον γενήσεται.
ΘΕΑΙ. οὐ γὰρ οὖν.
ΣΩ. ἀνάγκη δέ γε ἐμέ τε τινὸς γίγνεσθαι, ὅταν αἰσθανόμενος γίγνωμαι· αἰσθανόμενον γάρ, μηδενὸς δὲ αἰσθανόμενον, ἀδύνατον γίγνεσθαι· ἐκεῖνό τε τινὶ γίγνεσθαι, ὅταν γλυκὺ ἢ πικρὸν ἤ τι τοιοῦτον γίγνηται· γλυκὺ γάρ, μηδενὶ δὲ γλυκὺ ἀδύνατον γενέσθαι.
ΘΕΑΙ. παντάπασι μὲν οὖν.
ΣΩ. λείπεται δὴ οἶμαι ἡμῖν ἀλλήλοις, εἴτʼ ἐσμέν, εἶναι, εἴτε γιγνόμεθα, γίγνεσθαι, ἐπείπερ ἡμῶν ἡ ἀνάγκη τὴν οὐσίαν συνδεῖ μέν, συνδεῖ δὲ οὐδενὶ τῶν ἄλλων οὐδʼ αὖ ἡμῖν αὐτοῖς. ἀλλήλοις δὴ λείπεται συνδεδέσθαι. ὥστε εἴτε τις εἶναί τι ὀνομάζει, τινὶ εἶναι ἢ τινὸς ἢ πρός τι ῥητέον αὐτῷ, εἴτε γίγνεσθαι· αὐτὸ δὲ ἐφʼ αὑτοῦ τι ἢ ὂν ἢ γιγνόμενον οὔτε αὐτῷ λεκτέον οὔτʼ ἄλλου λέγοντος ἀποδεκτέον, ὡς ὁ λόγος ὃν διεληλύθαμεν σημαίνει.
ΘΕΑΙ. παντάπασι μὲν οὖν, ὦ Σώκρατες.
ΣΩ. οὐκοῦν ὅτε δὴ τὸ ἐμὲ ποιοῦν ἐμοί ἐστιν καὶ οὐκ ἄλλῳ, ἐγὼ καὶ αἰσθάνομαι αὐτοῦ, ἄλλος δʼ οὔ;
ΘΕΑΙ. πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ΣΩ. ἀληθὴς ἄρα ἐμοὶ ἡ ἐμὴ αἴσθησις—τῆς γὰρ ἐμῆς οὐσίας ἀεί ἐστιν—καὶ ἐγὼ κριτὴς κατὰ τὸν Πρωταγόραν τῶν τε ὄντων ἐμοὶ ὡς ἔστι, καὶ τῶν μὴ ὄντων ὡς οὐκ ἔστιν.
ΘΕΑΙ. ἔοικεν.
ΣΩ. πῶς ἂν οὖν ἀψευδὴς ὢν καὶ μὴ πταίων τῇ διανοίᾳ περὶ τὰ ὄντα ἢ γιγνόμενα οὐκ ἐπιστήμων ἂν εἴην ὧνπερ αἰσθητής;
ΘΕΑΙ. οὐδαμῶς ὅπως οὔ.
ΣΩ. παγκάλως ἄρα σοι εἴρηται ὅτι ἐπιστήμη οὐκ ἄλλο τί ἐστιν ἢ αἴσθησις, καὶ εἰς ταὐτὸν συμπέπτωκεν, κατὰ μὲν Ὅμηρον καὶ Ἡράκλειτον καὶ πᾶν τὸ τοιοῦτον φῦλον οἷον ῥεύματα κινεῖσθαι τὰ πάντα, κατὰ δὲ Πρωταγόραν τὸν σοφώτατον πάντων χρημάτων ἄνθρωπον μέτρον εἶναι, κατὰ δὲ Θεαίτητον τούτων οὕτως ἐχόντων αἴσθησιν ἐπιστήμην γίγνεσθαι. ἦ γάρ, ὦ Θεαίτητε; φῶμεν τοῦτο σὸν μὲν εἶναι οἷον νεογενὲς παιδίον, ἐμὸν δὲ μαίευμα; ἢ πῶς λέγεις;
ΘΕΑΙ. οὕτως ἀνάγκη, ὦ Σώκρατες.
SOC. Then I shall never have this perception of any other thing; for a perception of another thing is another perception, and makes the percipient different and other: nor can that which acts on me ever by union with another produce the same result or become the same in kind; for by producing another result from another passive element it will become different in kind.
THEAET. That is true.
SOC. And neither shall I, furthermore, ever again become the same as I am, nor will that ever become the same as it is.
THEAET. No.
SOC. And yet, when I become percipient, I must necessarily become percipient of something, for it is impossible to become percipient and perceive nothing; and that which is perceived must become so to someone, when it becomes sweet or bitter or the like; for to become sweet, but sweet to no one, is impossible.
THEAET. Perfectly true.
SOC. The result, then, I think, is that we (the active and the passive elements) are or become, whichever is the case, in relation to one another, since we are bound to one another by the inevitable law of our being, but to nothing else, not even to ourselves. The result, then, is that we are bound to one another; and so if a man says anything “is,” he must say it is to or of or in relation to something, and similarly if he says it “becomes”; but he must not say it is or becomes absolutely, nor can he accept such a statement from anyone else. That is the meaning of the doctrine we have been describing.
THEAET. Yes, quite so, Socrates.
SOC. Then, since that which acts on me is to me and to me only, it is also the case that I perceive it, and I only?
THEAET. Of course.
SOC. Then to me my perception is true; for in each case it is always part of my being; and I am, as Protagoras says, the judge of the existence of the things that are to me and of the non-existence of those that are not to me.
THEAET. So it seems.
SOC. How, then, if I am an infallible judge and my mind never stumbles in regard to the things that are or that become, can I fail to know that which I perceive?
THEAET. You cannot possibly fail.
SOC. Therefore you were quite right in saying that knowledge is nothing else than perception, and there is complete identity between the doctrine of Homer and Heracleitus and all their followers—that all things are in motion, like streams—the doctrine of the great philosopher Protagoras that man is the measure of all things—and the doctrine of Theaetetus that, since these things are true, perception is knowledge. Eh, Theaetetus? Shall we say that this is, so to speak, your new-born child and the result of my midwifery? Or what shall we say?
THEAET. We must say that, Socrates.
ΣΩ. τοῦτο μὲν δή, ὡς ἔοικεν, μόλις ποτὲ ἐγεννήσαμεν, ὅτι δή ποτε τυγχάνει ὄν. μετὰ δὲ τὸν τόκον τὰ ἀμφιδρόμια αὐτοῦ ὡς ἀληθῶς ἐν κύκλῳ περιθρεκτέον τῷ λόγῳ, σκοπουμένους μὴ λάθῃ ἡμᾶς οὐκ ἄξιον ὂν τροφῆς τὸ γιγνόμενον, ἀλλὰ ἀνεμιαῖόν τε καὶ ψεῦδος. ἢ σὺ οἴει πάντως δεῖν τό γε σὸν τρέφειν καὶ μὴ ἀποτιθέναι, ἢ καὶ ἀνέξῃ ἐλεγχόμενον ὁρῶν, καὶ οὐ σφόδρα χαλεπανεῖς ἐάν τις σοῦ ὡς πρωτοτόκου αὐτὸ ὑφαιρῇ;
ΘΕΟ. ἀνέξεται, ὦ Σώκρατες, Θεαίτητος· οὐδαμῶς γὰρ δύσκολος. ἀλλὰ πρὸς θεῶν εἰπὲ ᾗ αὖ οὐχ οὕτως ἔχει;
ΣΩ. φιλόλογός γʼ εἶ ἀτεχνῶς καὶ χρηστός, ὦ Θεόδωρε, ὅτι με οἴει λόγων τινὰ εἶναι θύλακον καὶ ῥᾳδίως ἐξελόντα ἐρεῖν ὡς οὐκ αὖ ἔχει οὕτω ταῦτα· τὸ δὲ γιγνόμενον οὐκ ἐννοεῖς, ὅτι οὐδεὶς τῶν λόγων ἐξέρχεται παρʼ ἐμοῦ ἀλλʼ ἀεὶ παρὰ τοῦ ἐμοὶ προσδιαλεγομένου, ἐγὼ δὲ οὐδὲν ἐπίσταμαι πλέον πλὴν βραχέος, ὅσον λόγον παρʼ ἑτέρου σοφοῦ λαβεῖν καὶ ἀποδέξασθαι μετρίως. καὶ νῦν τοῦτο παρὰ τοῦδε πειράσομαι, οὔ τι αὐτὸς εἰπεῖν.
ΘΕΟ. σὺ κάλλιον, ὦ Σώκρατες, λέγεις· καὶ ποίει οὕτως.
ΣΩ. οἶσθʼ οὖν, ὦ Θεόδωρε, ὃ θαυμάζω τοῦ ἑταίρου σου Πρωταγόρου;
ΘΕΟ. τὸ ποῖον;
ΣΩ. τὰ μὲν ἄλλα μοι πάνυ ἡδέως εἴρηκεν, ὡς τὸ δοκοῦν ἑκάστῳ τοῦτο καὶ ἔστιν· τὴν δʼ ἀρχὴν τοῦ λόγου τεθαύμακα, ὅτι οὐκ εἶπεν ἀρχόμενος τῆς Ἀληθείας ὅτι «πάντων χρημάτων μέτρον ἐστὶν ὗς» ἢ «κυνοκέφαλος» ἤ τι ἄλλο ἀτοπώτερον τῶν ἐχόντων αἴσθησιν, ἵνα μεγαλοπρεπῶς καὶ πάνυ καταφρονητικῶς ἤρξατο ἡμῖν λέγειν, ἐνδεικνύμενος ὅτι ἡμεῖς μὲν αὐτὸν ὥσπερ θεὸν ἐθαυμάζομεν ἐπὶ σοφίᾳ, ὁ δʼ ἄρα >ἐτύγχανεν ὢν εἰς φρόνησιν οὐδὲν βελτίων βατράχου γυρίνου, μὴ ὅτι ἄλλου του ἀνθρώπων. ἢ πῶς λέγωμεν, ὦ Θεόδωρε; εἰ γὰρ δὴ ἑκάστῳ ἀληθὲς ἔσται ὃ ἂν διʼ αἰσθήσεως δοξάζῃ, καὶ μήτε τὸ ἄλλου πάθος ἄλλος βέλτιον διακρινεῖ, μήτε τὴν δόξαν κυριώτερος ἔσται ἐπισκέψασθαι ἕτερος τὴν ἑτέρου ὀρθὴ ἢ ψευδής, ἀλλʼ ὃ πολλάκις εἴρηται, αὐτὸς τὰ αὑτοῦ ἕκαστος μόνος δοξάσει, ταῦτα δὲ πάντα ὀρθὰ καὶ ἀληθῆ, τί δή ποτε, ὦ ἑταῖρε, Πρωταγόρας μὲν σοφός, ὥστε καὶ ἄλλων διδάσκαλος ἀξιοῦσθαι δικαίως μετὰ μεγάλων μισθῶν, ἡμεῖς δὲ ἀμαθέστεροί τε καὶ φοιτητέον ἡμῖν ἦν παρʼ ἐκεῖνον, μέτρῳ ὄντι αὐτῷ ἑκάστῳ τῆς αὑτοῦ σοφίας; ταῦτα πῶς μὴ φῶμεν δημούμενον λέγειν τὸν Πρωταγόραν; τὸ δὲ δὴ ἐμόν τε καὶ τῆς ἐμῆς τέχνης τῆς μαιευτικῆς σιγῶ ὅσον γέλωτα ὀφλισκάνομεν, οἶμαι δὲ καὶ σύμπασα ἡ τοῦ διαλέγεσθαι πραγματεία. τὸ γὰρ ἐπισκοπεῖν καὶ ἐπιχειρεῖν ἐλέγχειν τὰς ἀλλήλων φαντασίας τε καὶ δόξας, ὀρθὰς ἑκάστου οὔσας, οὐ μακρὰ μὲν καὶ διωλύγιος φλυαρία, εἰ ἀληθὴς ἡ Ἀλήθεια Πρωταγόρου ἀλλὰ μὴ παίζουσα ἐκ τοῦ ἀδύτου τῆς βίβλου ἐφθέγξατο;
SOC. Well, we have at last managed to bring this forth, whatever it turns out to be; and now that it is born, we must in very truth perform the rite of running round with it in a circle— the circle of our argument—and see whether it may not turn out to be after all not worth rearing, but only a wind-egg, an imposture. But, perhaps, you think that any offspring of yours ought to be cared for and not put away; or will you bear to see it examined and not get angry if it is taken away from you, though it is your first-born?
THEO. Theaetetus will bear it, Socrates, for he is not at all ill-tempered. But for heaven’s sake, Socrates, tell me, is all this wrong after all?
SOC. You are truly fond of argument, Theodorus, and a very good fellow to think that I am a sort of bag full of arguments and can easily pull one out and say that after all the other one was wrong; but you do not understand what is going on: none of the arguments comes from me, but always from him who is talking with me. I myself know nothing, except just a little, enough to extract an argument from another man who is wise and to receive it fairly. And now I will try to extract this thought from Theaetetus, but not to say anything myself.
THEO. That is the better way, Socrates; do as you say.
SOC. Do you know, then, Theodorus, what amazes me in your friend Protagoras?
THEO. What is it?
SOC. In general I like his doctrine that what appears to each one is to him, but I am amazed by the beginning of his book. I don’t see why he does not say in the beginning of his Truth that a pig or a dog-faced baboon or some still stranger creature of those that have sensations is the measure of all things. Then he might have begun to speak to us very imposingly and condescendingly, showing that while we were honoring him like a god for his wisdom, he was after all no better in intellect than any other man, or, for that matter, than a tadpole. What alternative is there, Theodorus? For if that opinion is true to each person which he acquires through sensation, and no one man can discern another’s condition better than he himself, and one man has no better right to investigate whether another’s opinion is true or false than he himself, but, as we have said several times, each man is to form his own opinions by himself, and these opinions are always right and true, why in the world, my friend, was Protagoras wise, so that he could rightly be thought worthy to be the teacher of other men and to be well paid, and why were we ignorant creatures and obliged to go to school to him, if each person is the measure of his own wisdom? Must we not believe that Protagoras was “playing to the gallery” in saying this? I say nothing of the ridicule that I and my science of midwifery deserve in that case,—and, I should say, the whole practice of dialectics, too. For would not the investigation of one another’s fancies and opinions, and the attempt to refute them, when each man’s must be right, be tedious and blatant folly, if the Truth of Protagoras is true and he was not jesting when he uttered his oracles from the shrine of his book?
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