161c. Seemingly, said Critias, from some other; for indeed he did not from me. But what does it matter, Socrates, said Charmides, from whom I heard it? Not at all, I replied; for in any case we have not to consider who said it, but whether it is a true saying or no. Now you speak rightly, he said. Yes, on my word, I said: but I shall be surprised if we can find out how it stands; for it looks like a kind of riddle. Why so? he asked. Because, I replied, presumably the speaker of the words “temperance is doing one’s own business” did not mean them quite as he spoke them.
161c. ἔοικεν, ἔφη ὁ Κριτίας, ἄλλου· οὐ γὰρ δὴ ἐμοῦ γε. ἀλλὰ τί διαφέρει, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ὁ Χαρμίδης, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὅτου ἤκουσα; οὐδέν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· πάντως γὰρ οὐ τοῦτο σκεπτέον, ὅστις αὐτὸ εἶπεν, ἀλλὰ πότερον ἀληθὲς λέγεται ἢ οὔ. νῦν ὀρθῶς λέγεις, ἦ δʼ ὅς. νὴ Δία, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ. ἀλλʼ εἰ καὶ εὑρήσομεν αὐτὸ ὅπῃ γε ἔχει, θαυμάζοιμʼ ἄν· αἰνίγματι γάρ τινι ἔοικεν. ὅτι δὴ τί γε; ἔφη.
161d. Or do you consider that the scribe does nothing when he writes or reads? I rather consider that he does something, he replied. And does the scribe, in your opinion, write and read his own name only, and teach you boys to do the same with yours? Or did you write your enemies’ names just as much as your own and your friends’? Just as much. Well, were you meddlesome or intemperate in doing this?
161d. ὅτι οὐ δήπου, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ᾗ τὰ ῥήματα ἐφθέγξατο ταύτῃ καὶ ἐνόει, λέγων σωφροσύνην εἶναι τὸ τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττειν. ἢ σὺ οὐδὲν ἡγῇ πράττειν τὸν γραμματιστὴν ὅταν γράφῃ ἢ ἀναγιγνώσκῃ; ἔγωγε, ἡγοῦμαι μὲν οὖν, ἔφη. δοκεῖ οὖν σοι τὸ αὑτοῦ ὄνομα μόνον γράφειν ὁ γραμματιστὴς καὶ ἀναγιγνώσκειν ἢ ὑμᾶς τοὺς παῖδας διδάσκειν, ἢ οὐδὲν ἧττον τὰ τῶν ἐχθρῶν ἐγράφετε ἢ τὰ ὑμέτερα καὶ τὰ τῶν φίλων ὀνόματα; οὐδὲν ἧττον. ἦ οὖν ἐπολυπραγμονεῖτε καὶ οὐκ ἐσωφρονεῖτε τοῦτο δρῶντες;
161e. Not at all. And you know you were not doing your own business, if writing and reading are doing something. Why, so they are. And indeed medical work, my good friend, and building and weaving and producing anything whatever that is the work of any art, I presume is doing something. Certainly.
161e. οὐδαμῶς. καὶ μὴν οὐ τὰ ὑμέτερά γε αὐτῶν ἐπράττετε, εἴπερ τὸ γράφειν πράττειν τί ἐστιν καὶ τὸ ἀναγιγνώσκειν. ἀλλὰ μὴν ἔστιν. καὶ γὰρ τὸ ἰᾶσθαι, ὦ ἑταῖρε, καὶ τὸ οἰκοδομεῖν καὶ τὸ ὑφαίνειν καὶ τὸ ᾑτινιοῦν τέχνῃ ὁτιοῦν τῶν τέχνης ἔργων ἀπεργάζεσθαι πράττειν δήπου τί ἐστιν. πάνυ γε.
162. Well then, I went on, do you think a state would be well conducted under a law which enjoined that everyone should weave and scour his own coat, and make his own shoes, and his own flask and scraper, and everything else on the same principle of not touching the affairs of others but performing and doing his own for himself?
162. τί οὖν; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, δοκεῖ ἄν σοι πόλις εὖ οἰκεῖσθαι ὑπὸ τούτου τοῦ νόμου τοῦ κελεύοντος τὸ ἑαυτοῦ ἱμάτιον ἕκαστον ὑφαίνειν καὶ πλύνειν, καὶ ὑποδήματα σκυτοτομεῖν, καὶ λήκυθον καὶ στλεγγίδα καὶ τἆλλα πάντα κατὰ τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον, τῶν μὲν ἀλλοτρίων μὴ ἅπτεσθαι, τὰ δὲ ἑαυτοῦ ἕκαστον ἐργάζεσθαί τε καὶ πράττειν;
162a. I think not, he replied. But still, I said, a state whose conduct is temperate will be well conducted. Of course, he said. Then doing one’s own business in that sense and in that way will not be temperance. Apparently not. So that person was riddling, it seems, just as I said a moment ago, when he said that doing one’s own business is temperance. For I take it he was not such a fool as all that: or was it some idiot that you heard saying this, Charmides?
162a. οὐκ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ, ἦ δʼ ὅς. ἀλλὰ μέντοι, ἔφην ἐγώ, σωφρόνως γε οἰκοῦσα εὖ ἂν οἰκοῖτο. πῶς δʼ οὔκ; ἔφη. οὐκ ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, τὸ τὰ τοιαῦτά τε καὶ οὕτω τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττειν σωφροσύνη ἂν εἴη. οὐ φαίνεται. ἠινίττετο ἄρα, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὅπερ ἄρτι ἐγὼ ἔλεγον, ὁ λέγων τὸ τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττειν σωφροσύνην εἶναι· οὐ γάρ που οὕτω γε ἦν εὐήθης.
162b. Far from it, he replied, for indeed he seemed to be very wise. Then it is perfectly certain, in my opinion, that he propounded it as a riddle, in view of the difficulty of understanding what “doing one’s own business” can mean. I daresay, he said. Well, what can it mean, this “doing one’s own business”? Can you tell me? I do not know, upon my word, he replied: but I daresay it may be that not even he who said it knew in the least what he meant. And as he said this he gave a sly laugh and glanced at Critias.
162b. ἤ τινος ἠλιθίου ἤκουσας τουτὶ λέγοντος, ὦ Χαρμίδη; ἥκιστά γε, ἔφη, ἐπεί τοι καὶ πάνυ ἐδόκει σοφὸς εἶναι. παντὸς τοίνυν μᾶλλον, ὡς ἐμοὶ δοκεῖ, αἴνιγμα αὐτὸ προύβαλεν, ὡς ὂν χαλεπὸν τὸ τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττειν γνῶναι ὅτι ποτε ἔστιν. ἴσως, ἔφη. τί οὖν ἂν εἴη ποτὲ τὸ τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττειν; ἔχεις εἰπεῖν; οὐκ οἶδα μὰ Δία ἔγωγε, ἦ δʼ ὅς· ἀλλʼ ἴσως οὐδὲν κωλύει μηδὲ τὸν λέγοντα μηδὲν εἰδέναι ὅτι ἐνόει. καὶ ἅμα ταῦτα λέγων ὑπεγέλα τε καὶ εἰς τὸν Κριτίαν ἀπέβλεπεν.
162c. Now Critias for some time had been plainly burning with anxiety to distinguish himself in the eyes of Charmides and the company, and having with difficulty restrained himself heretofore, he now could do so no longer; for I believe that what I had supposed was perfectly true—that Charmides had heard this answer about temperance from Critias. And so Charmides, wishing him to make answer instead of himself, sought to stir him up in particular, and pointed out that he himself had been refuted; but Critias rebelled against it, and seemed to me to have got angry with him, as a poet does with an actor who mishandles his verses on the stage: so he looked hard at him and said: Do you really suppose, Charmides, that if you do not know what can have been the meaning of the man who said that temperance was doing one’s own business, he did not know either?
162c. καὶ ὁ Κριτίας δῆλος μὲν ἦν καὶ πάλαι ἀγωνιῶν καὶ φιλοτίμως πρός τε τὸν Χαρμίδην καὶ πρὸς τοὺς παρόντας ἔχων, μόγις δʼ ἑαυτὸν ἐν τῷ πρόσθεν κατέχων τότε οὐχ οἷός τε ἐγένετο· δοκεῖ γάρ μοι παντὸς μᾶλλον ἀληθὲς εἶναι, ὃ ἐγὼ ὑπέλαβον, τοῦ Κριτίου ἀκηκοέναι τὸν Χαρμίδην ταύτην τὴν ἀπόκρισιν περὶ τῆς σωφροσύνης. ὁ μὲν οὖν Χαρμίδης βουλόμενος μὴ αὐτὸς ὑπέχειν λόγον ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνον τῆς ἀποκρίσεως, ὑπεκίνει αὐτὸν ἐκεῖνον, καὶ ἐνεδείκνυτο ὡς ἐξεληλεγμένος εἴη·
162d. Why, my excellent Critias, I said, no wonder if our friend, at his age, cannot understand; but you, I should think, may be expected to know, in view of your years and your studies. So if you concede that temperance is what he says, and you accept the statement, for my part I would greatly prefer to have you as partner in the inquiry as to whether this saying is true or not. Well, I quite concede it, he said, and accept it. That is good, then, I said. Now tell me, do you also concede what I was asking just now—that all craftsmen make something? I do. And do you consider that they make their own things only, or those of others also?
162d. ὁ δʼ οὐκ ἠνέσχετο, ἀλλά μοι ἔδοξεν ὀργισθῆναι αὐτῷ ὥσπερ ποιητὴς ὑποκριτῇ κακῶς διατιθέντι τὰ ἑαυτοῦ ποιήματα. ὥστʼ ἐμβλέψας αὐτῷ εἶπεν, οὕτως οἴει, ὦ Χαρμίδη, εἰ σὺ μὴ οἶσθα ὅτι ποτʼ ἐνόει ὃς ἔφη σωφροσύνην εἶναι τὸ τὰ ἑαυτοῦ πράττειν, οὐδὲ δὴ ἐκεῖνον εἰδέναι; ἀλλʼ, ὦ βέλτιστε, ἔφην ἐγώ, Κριτία, τοῦτον μὲν οὐδὲν θαυμαστὸν ἀγνοεῖν τηλικοῦτον ὄντα· σὲ δέ που εἰκὸς εἰδέναι καὶ ἡλικίας ἕνεκα καὶ ἐπιμελείας. εἰ οὖν συγχωρεῖς τοῦτʼ εἶναι σωφροσύνην ὅπερ οὑτοσὶ λέγει καὶ παραδέχῃ τὸν λόγον, ἔγωγε πολὺ ἂν ἥδιον μετὰ σοῦ σκοποίμην εἴτʼ ἀληθὲς εἴτε μὴ τὸ λεχθέν. ἀλλὰ πάνυ συγχωρῶ, ἔφη, καὶ παραδέχομαι. καλῶς γε σὺ τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ποιῶν. καί μοι λέγε, ἦ καὶ ἃ νυνδὴ ἠρώτων ἐγὼ συγχωρεῖς, τοὺς δημιουργοὺς πάντας ποιεῖν τι; ἔγωγε.
163a. Those of others also. And are they temperate in not making their own things only? Yes: what reason is there against it? he said. None for me, I replied; but there may be for him who, after assuming that temperance is doing one’s own business, proceeds to say there is no reason against those also who do others’ business being temperate. And have I, pray, he said, admitted that those who do others’ business are temperate? Or was my admission of those who make things? Tell me, I said, do you not call making and doing the same?
163a. ἦ οὖν δοκοῦσί σοι τὰ ἑαυτῶν μόνον ποιεῖν ἢ καὶ τὰ τῶν ἄλλων; καὶ τὰ τῶν ἄλλων. σωφρονοῦσιν οὖν οὐ τὰ ἑαυτῶν μόνον ποιοῦντες; τί γὰρ κωλύει; ἔφη. οὐδὲν ἐμέ γε, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· ἀλλʼ ὅρα μὴ ἐκεῖνον κωλύει, ὃς ὑποθέμενος σωφροσύνην εἶναι τὸ τὰ ἑαυτοῦ πράττειν ἔπειτα οὐδέν φησι κωλύειν καὶ τοὺς τὰ τῶν ἄλλων πράττοντας σωφρονεῖν. ἐγὼ γάρ που, ἦ δʼ ὅς, τοῦθʼ ὡμολόγηκα, ὡς οἱ τὰ τῶν ἄλλων πράττοντες σωφρονοῦσιν, εἰ τοὺς ποιοῦντας ὡμολόγησα.
163b. No indeed, he replied, nor working and making the same either: this I learnt from Hesiod, who said,Work is no reproach.Now, do you suppose that if he had given the names of working and doing to such works as you were mentioning just now, he would have said there was no reproach in shoe-making or pickle-selling or serving the stews? It is not to be thought, Socrates; he rather held, I conceive, that making was different from doing and working, and that while a thing made might be a reproach if it had no connection with the honorable, work could never be a reproach.
163b. εἰπέ μοι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὐ ταὐτὸν καλεῖς τὸ ποιεῖν καὶ τὸ πράττειν; οὐ μέντοι, ἔφη· οὐδέ γε τὸ ἐργάζεσθαι καὶ τὸ ποιεῖν. ἔμαθον γὰρ παρʼ Ἡσιόδου, ὃς ἔφη ἔργον [δʼ] οὐδὲν εἶναι ὄνειδος. οἴει οὖν αὐτόν, εἰ τὰ τοιαῦτα ἔργα ἐκάλει καὶ ἐργάζεσθαι καὶ πράττειν, οἷα νυνδὴ σὺ ἔλεγες, οὐδενὶ ἂν ὄνειδος φάναι εἶναι σκυτοτομοῦντι ἢ ταριχοπωλοῦντι ἢ ἐπʼ οἰκήματος καθημένῳ; οὐκ οἴεσθαί γε χρή, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐκεῖνος οἶμαι ποίησιν πράξεως καὶ ἐργασίας ἄλλο ἐνόμιζεν, καὶ ποίημα μὲν γίγνεσθαι ὄνειδος ἐνίοτε, ὅταν μὴ 1 μετὰ τοῦ καλοῦ γίγνηται, ἔργον δὲ οὐδέποτε οὐδὲν ὄνειδος·
163c. For things honorably and usefully made he called works, and such makings he called workings and doings; and we must suppose that it was only such things as these that he called our proper concerns, but all that was harmful, the concerns of others. So that we must conclude that Hesiod, and anyone else of good sense, calls him temperate who does his own business.
163c. τὰ γὰρ καλῶς τε καὶ ὠφελίμως ποιούμενα ἔργα ἐκάλει, καὶ ἐργασίας τε καὶ πράξεις τὰς τοιαύτας ποιήσεις. φάναι δέ γε χρὴ καὶ οἰκεῖα μόνα τὰ τοιαῦτα ἡγεῖσθαι αὐτόν, τὰ δὲ βλαβερὰ πάντα ἀλλότρια· ὥστε καὶ Ἡσίοδον χρὴ οἴεσθαι καὶ ἄλλον ὅστις φρόνιμος τὸν τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττοντα τοῦτον σώφρονα καλεῖν.
163d. Ah, Critias, I said, you had hardly begun, when I grasped the purport of your speech—that you called one’s proper and one’s own things good, and that the makings of the good you called doings; for in fact I have heard Prodicus drawing innumerable distinctions between names. Well, I will allow you any application of a name that you please; only make clear to what thing it is that you attach such-and-such a name. So begin now over again, and define more plainly.
163d. ὦ Κριτία, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ εὐθὺς ἀρχομένου σου σχεδὸν ἐμάνθανον τὸν λόγον, ὅτι τὰ οἰκεῖά τε καὶ τὰ αὑτοῦ ἀγαθὰ καλοίης, καὶ τὰς τῶν ἀγαθῶν ποιήσεις πράξεις· καὶ γὰρ Προδίκου μυρία τινὰ ἀκήκοα περὶ ὀνομάτων διαιροῦντος. ἀλλʼ ἐγώ σοι τίθεσθαι μὲν τῶν ὀνομάτων δίδωμι ὅπῃ ἂν βούλῃ ἕκαστον· δήλου δὲ μόνον ἐφʼ ὅτι ἂν φέρῃς τοὔνομα ὅτι ἂν λέγῃς. νῦν οὖν πάλιν ἐξ ἀρχῆς σαφέστερον ὅρισαι·
163e. Do you say that this doing or making, or whatever is the term you prefer, of good things, is temperance? I do, he replied. Then not he who does evil, but he who does good, is temperate? And do not you, my excellent friend, he said, think so? Leave that aside, I said; for we have not to consider yet what I think, but what you say now. Well, all the same, I say, he replied, that he who does evil instead of good is not temperate, whereas he who does good instead of evil is temperate: for I give you “the doing of good things is temperance” as my plain definition.
163e. ἆρα τὴν τῶν ἀγαθῶν πρᾶξιν ἢ ποίησιν ἢ ὅπως σὺ βούλει ὀνομάζειν, ταύτην λέγεις σὺ σωφροσύνην εἶναι; ἔγωγε, ἔφη. οὐκ ἄρα σωφρονεῖ ὁ τὰ κακὰ πράττων, ἀλλʼ ὁ τἀγαθά; σοὶ δέ, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ὦ βέλτιστε, οὐχ οὕτω δοκεῖ; ἔα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· μὴ γάρ πω τὸ ἐμοὶ δοκοῦν σκοπῶμεν, ἀλλʼ ὃ σὺ λέγεις νῦν. ἀλλὰ μέντοι ἔγωγε, ἔφη, τὸν μὴ ἀγαθὰ ἀλλὰ κακὰ ποιοῦντα οὔ φημι σωφρονεῖν, τὸν δὲ ἀγαθὰ ἀλλὰ μὴ κακὰ σωφρονεῖν· τὴν γὰρ τῶν ἀγαθῶν πρᾶξιν σωφροσύνην εἶναι σαφῶς σοι διορίζομαι.
164a. And there is no reason, I daresay, why your statement should not be right; but still I wonder, I went on, whether you judge that temperate men are ignorant of their temperance. No, I do not, he said. A little while ago, I said, were you not saying that there was no reason why craftsmen should not be temperate in making others’ things as well? Yes, I was, he said, but what of it? Nothing; only tell me whether you think that a doctor, in making someone healthy, makes a helpful result both for himself and for the person whom he cures.
164a. καὶ οὐδέν γέ σε ἴσως κωλύει ἀληθῆ λέγειν· τόδε γε μέντοι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, θαυμάζω, εἰ σωφρονοῦντας ἀνθρώπους ἡγῇ σὺ ἀγνοεῖν ὅτι σωφρονοῦσιν. ἀλλʼ οὐχ ἡγοῦμαι, ἔφη. οὐκ ὀλίγον πρότερον, ἔφην ἐγώ, ἐλέγετο ὑπὸ σοῦ ὅτι τοὺς δημιουργοὺς οὐδὲν κωλύει καὶ αὖ τὰ τῶν ἄλλων ποιοῦντας σωφρονεῖν; ἐλέγετο γάρ, ἔφη· ἀλλὰ τί τοῦτο; οὐδέν· ἀλλὰ λέγε εἰ δοκεῖ τίς σοι ἰατρός, ὑγιᾶ τινα ποιῶν, ὠφέλιμα καὶ ἑαυτῷ ποιεῖν καὶ ἐκείνῳ ὃν ἰῷτο;
164b. I do. And he who does this does his duty? Yes. Is not he who does his duty temperate? Indeed he is. Well, and must the doctor know when his medicine will be helpful, and when not? And must every craftsman know when he is likely to be benefited by the work he does, and when not? Probably not. Then sometimes, I went on, the doctor may have done what is helpful or harmful without knowing the effect of his own action; and yet, in doing what was helpful, by your statement, he has done temperately.
164b. ἔμοιγε. οὐκοῦν τὰ δέοντα πράττει ὅ γε ταῦτα πράττων; ναί. ὁ τὰ δέοντα πράττων οὐ σωφρονεῖ; σωφρονεῖ μὲν οὖν. ἦ οὖν καὶ γιγνώσκειν ἀνάγκη τῷ ἰατρῷ ὅταν τε ὠφελίμως ἰᾶται καὶ ὅταν μή; καὶ ἑκάστῳ τῶν δημιουργῶν ὅταν τε μέλλῃ ὀνήσεσθαι ἀπὸ τοῦ ἔργου οὗ ἂν πράττῃ καὶ ὅταν μή; ἴσως οὔ. ἐνίοτε ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὠφελίμως πράξας ἢ βλαβερῶς ὁ ἰατρὸς οὐ γιγνώσκει ἑαυτὸν ὡς ἔπραξεν·
164c. Or did you not state that? I did. Then it would seem that in doing what is helpful he may sometimes do temperately and be temperate, but be ignorant of his own temperance? But that, he said, Socrates, could never be: if you think this in any way a necessary inference from my previous admissions, I would rather withdraw some of them, and not be ashamed to say my statements were wrong, than concede at any time that a man who is ignorant of himself is temperate.
164c. καίτοι ὠφελίμως πράξας, ὡς ὁ σὸς λόγος, σωφρόνως ἔπραξεν. ἢ οὐχ οὕτως ἔλεγες; ἔγωγε. οὐκοῦν, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἐνίοτε ὠφελίμως πράξας πράττει μὲν σωφρόνως καὶ σωφρονεῖ, ἀγνοεῖ δʼ ἑαυτὸν ὅτι σωφρονεῖ; ἀλλὰ τοῦτο μέν, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὐκ ἄν ποτε γένοιτο, ἀλλʼ εἴ τι σὺ οἴει ἐκ τῶν ἔμπροσθεν ὑπʼ ἐμοῦ ὡμολογημένων εἰς τοῦτο ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι συμβαίνειν, ἐκείνων ἄν τι ἔγωγε μᾶλλον ἀναθείμην, καὶ οὐκ ἂν αἰσχυνθείην μὴ οὐχὶ ὀρθῶς φάναι εἰρηκέναι, μᾶλλον ἤ ποτε συγχωρήσαιμʼ ἂν ἀγνοοῦντα αὐτὸν ἑαυτὸν ἄνθρωπον σωφρονεῖν.
164d. For I would almost say that this very thing, self-knowledge, is temperance, and I am at one with him who put up the inscription of those words at Delphi. For the purpose of that inscription on the temple, as it seems to me, is to serve as the god’s salutation to those who enter it, instead of “Hail!”—this is a wrong form of greeting, and they should rather exhort one another with the words, “Be temperate!”
164d. σχεδὸν γάρ τι ἔγωγε αὐτὸ τοῦτό φημι εἶναι σωφροσύνην, τὸ γιγνώσκειν ἑαυτόν, καὶ συμφέρομαι τῷ ἐν Δελφοῖς ἀναθέντι τὸ τοιοῦτον γράμμα. καὶ γὰρ τοῦτο οὕτω μοι δοκεῖ τὸ γράμμα ἀνακεῖσθαι, ὡς δὴ πρόσρησις οὖσα τοῦ θεοῦ τῶν εἰσιόντων ἀντὶ τοῦ χαῖρε, ὡς τούτου μὲν οὐκ ὀρθοῦ ὄντος τοῦ προσρήματος, τοῦ χαίρειν, οὐδὲ δεῖν τοῦτο παρακελεύεσθαι ἀλλήλοις ἀλλὰ σωφρονεῖν.
164e. And thus the god addresses those who are entering his temple in a mode which differs from that of men; such was the intention of the dedicator of the inscription in putting it up, I believe; and that he says to each man who enters, in reality, “Be temperate!”
164e. οὕτω μὲν δὴ ὁ θεὸς προσαγορεύει τοὺς εἰσιόντας εἰς τὸ ἱερὸν διαφέρον τι ἢ οἱ ἄνθρωποι, ὡς διανοούμενος ἀνέθηκεν ὁ ἀναθείς, ὥς μοι δοκεῖ· καὶ λέγει πρὸς τὸν ἀεὶ εἰσιόντα οὐκ ἄλλο τι ἢ Σωφρόνει, φησίν.
165. But he says it in a rather riddling fashion, as a prophet would; for “Know thyself!” and “Be temperate!” are the same, as the inscription and I declare, though one is likely enough to think them different—an error into which I consider the dedicators of the later inscriptions fell when they put up “Nothing overmuch” and “A pledge, and thereupon perdition.”
165. αἰνιγματωδέστερον δὲ δή, ὡς μάντις, λέγει· τὸ γὰρ Γνῶθι σαυτόν καὶ τὸ Σωφρόνει ἔστιν μὲν ταὐτόν, ὡς τὰ γράμματά φησιν καὶ ἐγώ, τάχα δʼ ἄν τις οἰηθείη ἄλλο εἶναι, ὃ δή μοι δοκοῦσιν παθεῖν καὶ οἱ τὰ ὕστερον γράμματα ἀναθέντες, τό τε μηδὲν ἄγαν καὶ τὸ Ἐγγύη πάρα δʼ ἄτη.
165a. For they supposed that “Know thyself!” was a piece of advice, and not the god’s salutation of those who were entering; and so, in order that their dedications too might equally give pieces of useful advice, they wrote these words and dedicated them. Now my object in saying all this, Socrates, is to abandon to you all the previous argument— for, though perhaps it was you who were more in the right, or perhaps it was I, yet nothing at all certain emerged from our statements—and to proceed instead to satisfy you of this truth, if you do not admit it, that temperance is knowing oneself.
165a. καὶ γὰρ οὗτοι συμβουλὴν ᾠήθησαν εἶναι τὸ Γνῶθι σαυτόν, ἀλλʼ οὐ τῶν εἰσιόντων [ἕνεκεν] ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ πρόσρησιν· εἶθʼ ἵνα δὴ καὶ σφεῖς μηδὲν ἧττον συμβουλὰς χρησίμους ἀναθεῖεν, ταῦτα γράψαντες ἀνέθεσαν. οὗ δὴ οὖν ἕνεκα λέγω, ὦ Σώκρατες, ταῦτα πάντα, τόδʼ ἐστίν· τὰ μὲν ἔμπροσθέν σοι πάντα ἀφίημι—ἴσως μὲν γάρ τι σὺ ἔλεγες περὶ αὐτῶν ὀρθότερον, ἴσως δʼ ἐγώ, σαφὲς δʼ οὐδὲν πάνυ ἦν ὧν ἐλέγομεν—νῦν δʼ ἐθέλω τούτου σοι διδόναι λόγον, εἰ μὴ ὁμολογεῖς σωφροσύνην εἶναι τὸ γιγνώσκειν αὐτὸν ἑαυτόν.
165b. Why, Critias, I said, you treat me as though I professed to know the things on which I ask questions, and needed only the will to agree with you. But the fact of the matter is rather that I join you in the inquiry, each time that a proposition is made, because I myself do not know; I wish therefore to consider first, before I tell you whether I agree or not.
165b. ἀλλʼ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Κριτία, σὺ μὲν ὡς φάσκοντος ἐμοῦ εἰδέναι περὶ ὧν ἐρωτῶ προσφέρῃ πρός με, καὶ ἐὰν δὴ βούλωμαι, ὁμολογήσοντός σοι· τὸ δʼ οὐχ οὕτως ἔχει, ἀλλὰ ζητῶ γὰρ μετὰ σοῦ ἀεὶ τὸ προτιθέμενον διὰ τὸ μὴ αὐτὸς εἰδέναι.
165c. Now, give me a moment to consider. Consider then, he said. Yes, and I am considering, I said. For if temperance is knowing anything, obviously it must be a kind of science, and a science of something, must it not? It is, he replied, and of itself. And medicine, I said, is a science of health? Certainly. Then if you should ask me, I said, wherein medicine, as a science of health, is useful to us, and what it produces, I should say it is of very great benefit, since it produces health; an excellent result, if you allow so much.
165c. σκεψάμενος οὖν ἐθέλω εἰπεῖν εἴτε ὁμολογῶ εἴτε μή. ἀλλʼ ἐπίσχες ἕως ἂν σκέψωμαι. σκόπει δή, ἦ δʼ ὅς. καὶ γάρ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, σκοπῶ. εἰ γὰρ δὴ γιγνώσκειν γέ τί ἐστιν ἡ σωφροσύνη, δῆλον ὅτι ἐπιστήμη τις ἂν εἴη καὶ τινός· ἢ οὔ; ἔστιν, ἔφη, ἑαυτοῦ γε. οὐκοῦν καὶ ἰατρική, ἔφην, ἐπιστήμη ἐστὶν τοῦ ὑγιεινοῦ; πάνυ γε. εἰ τοίνυν με, ἔφην, ἔροιο σύ· ἰατρικὴ ὑγιεινοῦ ἐπιστήμη οὖσα τί ἡμῖν χρησίμη ἐστὶν καὶ τί ἀπεργάζεται, εἴποιμʼ ἂν ὅτι οὐ σμικρὰν ὠφελίαν·
165d. I allow it. And so, if you should ask me what result I take to be produced by building, as the builder’s science, I should say houses; and it would be the same with the other arts. Now it is for you, in your turn, to find an answer to a question regarding temperance—since you say it is a science of self, Critias—and to tell me what excellent result it produces for us, as science of self, and what it does that is worthy of its name.
165d. τὴν γὰρ ὑγίειαν καλὸν ἡμῖν ἔργον ἀπεργάζεται, εἰ ἀποδέχῃ τοῦτο. ἀποδέχομαι. καὶ εἰ τοίνυν με ἔροιο τὴν οἰκοδομικήν, ἐπιστήμην οὖσαν τοῦ οἰκοδομεῖν, τί φημι ἔργον ἀπεργάζεσθαι, εἴποιμʼ ἂν ὅτι οἰκήσεις· ὡσαύτως δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων τεχνῶν. χρὴ οὖν καὶ σὲ ὑπὲρ τῆς σωφροσύνης, ἐπειδὴ φῂς αὐτὴν ἑαυτοῦ ἐπιστήμην εἶναι, ἔχειν εἰπεῖν ἐρωτηθέντα, ὦ Κριτία, σωφροσύνη, ἐπιστήμη οὖσα ἑαυτοῦ, τί καλὸν ἡμῖν ἔργον ἀπεργάζεται καὶ ἄξιον τοῦ ὀνόματος;
165e. Come now, tell me. But, Socrates, he said, you are not inquiring rightly. For in its nature it is not like the other sciences, any more than any of them is like any other; whereas you are making your inquiry as though they were alike.
165e. ἴθι οὖν, εἰπέ. ἀλλʼ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἔφη, οὐκ ὀρθῶς ζητεῖς. οὐ γὰρ ὁμοία αὕτη πέφυκεν ταῖς ἄλλαις ἐπιστήμαις, οὐδέ γε αἱ ἄλλαι ἀλλήλαις· σὺ δʼ ὡς ὁμοίων οὐσῶν ποιῇ τὴν ζήτησιν.
166. For tell me, he said, what result is there of the arts of reckoning and geometry, in the way that a house is of building, or a coat of weaving, or other products of the sort that one might point to in various arts?
166. ἐπεὶ λέγε μοι, ἔφη, τῆς λογιστικῆς τέχνης ἢ τῆς γεωμετρικῆς τί ἐστιν τοιοῦτον ἔργον οἷον οἰκία οἰκοδομικῆς ἢ ἱμάτιον ὑφαντικῆς ἢ ἄλλα τοιαῦτʼ ἔργα, ἃ πολλὰ ἄν τις ἔχοι πολλῶν τεχνῶν δεῖξαι;
166a. Well, can you, for your part, point to any such product in those two cases? You cannot. To this I replied: What you say is true; but I can point out to you what is the peculiar subject of each of these sciences, distinct in each case from the science itself. Thus reckoning, I suppose, is concerned with the even and the odd in their numerical relations to themselves and to one another, is it not? Certainly, he said. And you grant that the odd and the even are different from the actual art of reckoning? Of course.
166a. ἔχεις οὖν μοι καὶ σὺ τούτων τοιοῦτόν τι ἔργον δεῖξαι; ἀλλʼ οὐχ ἕξεις. καὶ ἐγὼ εἶπον ὅτι ἀληθῆ λέγεις· ἀλλὰ τόδε σοι ἔχω δεῖξαι, τίνος ἐστὶν ἐπιστήμη ἑκάστη τούτων τῶν ἐπιστημῶν, ὃ τυγχάνει ὂν ἄλλο αὐτῆς τῆς ἐπιστήμης. οἷον ἡ λογιστική ἐστίν που τοῦ ἀρτίου καὶ τοῦ περιττοῦ, πλήθους ὅπως ἔχει πρὸς αὑτὰ καὶ πρὸς ἄλληλα· ἦ γάρ; πάνυ γε, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν ἑτέρου ὄντος τοῦ περιττοῦ καὶ ἀρτίου αὐτῆς τῆς λογιστικῆς; πῶς δʼ οὔ;
166b. And once more, weighing is concerned with the heavier and the lighter weight; but the heavy and the light are different from the actual art of weighing: you agree? I do. Then tell me, what is that of which temperance is the science, differing from temperance itself? There you are, Socrates, he said: you push your investigation up to the real question at issue—in what temperance differs from all the other sciences—but you then proceed to seek some resemblance between it and them; whereas there is no such thing, for while all the rest of the sciences have something other than themselves as their subject, this one alone is a science of the other sciences and of its own self.
166b. καὶ μὴν αὖ ἡ στατικὴ τοῦ βαρυτέρου τε καὶ κουφοτέρου σταθμοῦ ἐστιν στατική· ἕτερον δέ ἐστιν τὸ βαρύ τε καὶ κοῦφον τῆς στατικῆς αὐτῆς. συγχωρεῖς; ἔγωγε. λέγε δή, καὶ ἡ σωφροσύνη τίνος ἐστὶν ἐπιστήμη, ὃ τυγχάνει ἕτερον ὂν αὐτῆς τῆς σωφροσύνης; τοῦτό ἐστιν ἐκεῖνο, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες· ἐπʼ αὐτὸ ἥκεις ἐρευνῶν τὸ ᾧ διαφέρει πασῶν τῶν ἐπιστημῶν ἡ σωφροσύνη· σὺ δὲ ὁμοιότητά τινα ζητεῖς αὐτῆς ταῖς ἄλλαις. τὸ δʼ οὐκ ἔστιν οὕτως, ἀλλʼ αἱ μὲν ἄλλαι πᾶσαι ἄλλου εἰσὶν ἐπιστῆμαι, ἑαυτῶν δʼ οὔ, ἡ δὲ μόνη τῶν τε ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν ἐπιστήμη ἐστὶ καὶ αὐτὴ ἑαυτῆς.
166c. And of this you are far from being unconscious, since in fact, as I believe, you are doing the very thing you denied you were doing just now: for you are attempting to refute me, without troubling to follow the subject of our discussion. How can you think, I said, if my main effort is to refute you, that I do it with any other motive than that which would impel me to investigate the meaning of my own words—from a fear of carelessly supposing, at any moment, that I knew something while I knew it not?
166c. καὶ ταῦτά σε πολλοῦ δεῖ λεληθέναι, ἀλλὰ γὰρ οἶμαι ὃ ἄρτι οὐκ ἔφησθα ποιεῖν, τοῦτο ποιεῖς· ἐμὲ γὰρ ἐπιχειρεῖς ἐλέγχειν, ἐάσας περὶ οὗ ὁ λόγος ἐστίν. οἷον, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ποιεῖς ἡγούμενος, εἰ ὅτι μάλιστα σὲ ἐλέγχω, ἄλλου τινὸς ἕνεκα ἐλέγχειν ἢ οὗπερ ἕνεκα κἂν ἐμαυτὸν διερευνῴμην τί λέγω, φοβούμενος μή ποτε λάθω οἰόμενος μέν τι εἰδέναι, εἰδὼς δὲ μή.
166d. And so it is now: that is what I am doing, I tell you. I am examining the argument mainly for my own sake, but also, perhaps, for that of my other intimates. Or do you not think it is for the common good, almost, of all men, that the truth about everything there is should be discovered? Yes indeed, he replied, I do, Socrates. Then take heart, I said, my admirable friend, and answer the question put to you as you deem the case to be, without caring a jot whether it is Critias or Socrates who is being refuted: give the argument itself your attention, and observe what will become of it under the test of refutation.
166d. καὶ νῦν δὴ οὖν ἔγωγέ φημι τοῦτο ποιεῖν, τὸν λόγον σκοπεῖν μάλιστα μὲν ἐμαυτοῦ ἕνεκα, ἴσως δὲ δὴ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιτηδείων· ἢ οὐ κοινὸν οἴει ἀγαθὸν εἶναι σχεδόν τι πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις, γίγνεσθαι καταφανὲς ἕκαστον τῶν ὄντων ὅπῃ ἔχει; καὶ μάλα, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ἔγωγε, ὦ Σώκρατες. θαρρῶν τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ μακάριε, ἀποκρινόμενος τὸ ἐρωτώμενον ὅπῃ σοι φαίνεται, ἔα χαίρειν εἴτε Κριτίας ἐστὶν εἴτε Σωκράτης ὁ ἐλεγχόμενος·
166e. Well, he said, I will do so; for I think there is a good deal in what you say. Then tell me, I said, what you mean in regard to temperance. Why, I mean, he said, that it alone of all the sciences is the science both of itself and of the other sciences. So then, I said, it will be the science of the lack of science also, besides being the science of science? Certainly, he replied.
166e. ἀλλʼ αὐτῷ προσέχων τὸν νοῦν τῷ λόγῳ σκόπει ὅπῃ ποτὲ ἐκβήσεται ἐλεγχόμενος. ἀλλά, ἔφη, ποιήσω οὕτω· δοκεῖς γάρ μοι μέτρια λέγειν. λέγε τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, περὶ τῆς σωφροσύνης πῶς λέγεις; λέγω τοίνυν, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ὅτι μόνη τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν αὐτή τε αὑτῆς ἐστιν καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν ἐπιστήμη. οὐκοῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ ἀνεπιστημοσύνης ἐπιστήμη ἂν εἴη, εἴπερ καὶ ἐπιστήμης; πάνυ γε, ἔφη.
167a. Then only the temperate person will know himself, and be able to discern what he really knows and does not know, and have the power of judging what other people likewise know and think they know, in cases where they do know, and again, what they think they know, without knowing it; everyone else will be unable. And so this is being temperate, or temperance, and knowing oneself—that one should know what one knows and what one does not know. Is that what you mean? It is, he replied. Once more then, I said, as our third offering to the Saviour, let us consider afresh, in the first place, whether such a thing as this is possible or not—to know that one knows, and does not know, what one knows and what one does not know; and secondly, if this is perfectly possible, what benefit we get by knowing it.
167a. ὁ ἄρα σώφρων μόνος αὐτός τε ἑαυτὸν γνώσεται καὶ οἷός τε ἔσται ἐξετάσαι τί τε τυγχάνει εἰδὼς καὶ τί μή, καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους ὡσαύτως δυνατὸς ἔσται ἐπισκοπεῖν τί τις οἶδεν καὶ οἴεται, εἴπερ οἶδεν, καὶ τί αὖ οἴεται μὲν εἰδέναι, οἶδεν δʼ οὔ, τῶν δὲ ἄλλων οὐδείς· καὶ ἔστιν δὴ τοῦτο τὸ σωφρονεῖν τε καὶ σωφροσύνη καὶ τὸ ἑαυτὸν αὐτὸν γιγνώσκειν, τὸ εἰδέναι ἅ τε οἶδεν καὶ ἃ μὴ οἶδεν. ἆρα ταῦτά ἐστιν ἃ λέγεις; ἔγωγʼ, ἔφη. πάλιν τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, τὸ τρίτον τῷ σωτῆρι, ὥσπερ ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἐπισκεψώμεθα πρῶτον μὲν εἰ δυνατόν ἐστιν τοῦτʼ εἶναι ἢ οὔ—τὸ ἃ οἶδεν καὶ ἃ μὴ οἶδεν εἰδέναι ⟨ὅτι οἶδε καὶ⟩ ὅτι οὐκ οἶδεν—ἔπειτα εἰ ὅτι μάλιστα δυνατόν, τίς ἂν εἴη ἡμῖν ὠφελία εἰδόσιν αὐτό.
167b. We must indeed consider, he said. Come then, I said, Critias, consider if you can show yourself any more resourceful than I am; for I am at a loss. Shall I explain to you in what way? By all means, he replied. Well, I said, what all this comes to, if your last statement was correct, is merely that there is one science which is precisely a science of itself and of the other sciences, and moreover is a science of the lack of science at the same time.
167b. ἀλλὰ χρή, ἔφη, σκοπεῖν. ἴθι δή, ἔφην ἐγώ, ὦ Κριτία, σκέψαι, ἐάν τι περὶ αὐτῶν εὐπορώτερος φανῇς ἐμοῦ· ἐγὼ μὲν γὰρ ἀπορῶ. ᾗ δὲ ἀπορῶ, φράσω σοι; πάνυ γʼ, ἔφη. ἄλλο τι οὖν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, πάντα ταῦτʼ ἂν εἴη, εἰ ἔστιν ὅπερ σὺ νυνδὴ ἔλεγες, μία τις ἐπιστήμη, ἣ οὐκ ἄλλου τινός ἐστιν ἢ ἑαυτῆς τε καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν ἐπιστήμη, καὶ δὴ καὶ ἀνεπιστημοσύνης ἡ αὐτὴ αὕτη;
167c. Certainly. Then mark what a strange statement it is that we are attempting to make, my friend: for if you will consider it as applied to other cases, you will surely see—so I believe—its impossibility. How so? In what cases? In the following: ask yourself if you think there is a sort of vision which is not the vision of things that we see in the ordinary way, but a vision of itself and of the other sorts of vision, and of the lack of vision likewise; which, while being vision, sees no color, but only itself and the other sorts of vision.
167c. πάνυ γε. ἰδὲ δὴ ὡς ἄτοπον ἐπιχειροῦμεν, ὦ ἑταῖρε, λέγειν· ἐν ἄλλοις γάρ που τὸ αὐτὸ τοῦτο ἐὰν σκοπῇς, δόξει σοι, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι, ἀδύνατον εἶναι. πῶς δὴ καὶ ποῦ; ἐν τοῖσδε. ἐννόει γὰρ εἴ σοι δοκεῖ ὄψις τις εἶναι, ἣ ὧν μὲν αἱ ἄλλαι ὄψεις εἰσίν, οὐκ ἔστιν τούτων ὄψις, ἑαυτῆς δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ὄψεων ὄψις ἐστὶν καὶ μὴ ὄψεων ὡσαύτως, καὶ χρῶμα μὲν ὁρᾷ οὐδὲν ὄψις οὖσα, αὑτὴν δὲ καὶ τὰς ἄλλας ὄψεις·
167d. Do you think there is any such? Upon my word, I do not. And what do you say to a sort of hearing which hears not a single sound, but hears itself and the other sorts of hearing and lack of hearing? I reject that also. Then take all the senses together as a whole, and consider if you think there is any sense of the senses and of itself, but insensible of any of the things of which the other senses are sensible. I do not.
167d. δοκεῖ τίς σοι εἶναι τοιαύτη; μὰ Δίʼ οὐκ ἔμοιγε. τί δὲ ἀκοήν, ἣ φωνῆς μὲν οὐδεμιᾶς ἀκούει, αὑτῆς δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἀκοῶν ἀκούει καὶ τῶν μὴ ἀκοῶν; οὐδὲ τοῦτο. συλλήβδην δὴ σκόπει περὶ πασῶν τῶν αἰσθήσεων εἴ τίς σοι δοκεῖ εἶναι αἰσθήσεων μὲν αἴσθησις καὶ ἑαυτῆς, ὧν δὲ δὴ αἱ ἄλλαι αἰσθήσεις αἰσθάνονται, μηδενὸς αἰσθανομένη; οὐκ ἔμοιγε.
167e. Now, do you think there is any desire which is the desire, not of any pleasure, but of itself and of the other desires? No, indeed. Nor, again, is there a wish, I imagine, that wishes no good, but wishes itself and the other wishes. Quite so; there is not. And would you say there is any love of such a sort that it is actually a love of no beauty, but of itself and of the other loves? Not I, he replied.
167e. ἀλλʼ ἐπιθυμία δοκεῖ τίς σοι εἶναι, ἥτις ἡδονῆς μὲν οὐδεμιᾶς ἐστὶν ἐπιθυμία, αὑτῆς δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιθυμιῶν; οὐ δῆτα. οὐδὲ μὴν βούλησις, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι, ἣ ἀγαθὸν μὲν οὐδὲν βούλεται, αὑτὴν δὲ καὶ τὰς ἄλλας βουλήσεις βούλεται. οὐ γὰρ οὖν. ἔρωτα δὲ φαίης ἄν τινα εἶναι τοιοῦτον, ὃς τυγχάνει ὢν ἔρως καλοῦ μὲν οὐδενός, αὑτοῦ δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐρώτων; οὔκ, ἔφη, ἔγωγε.
168. And have you ever observed any fear which fears itself and the other fears, but has no fear of a single dreadful thing?
168. φόβον δὲ ἤδη τινὰ κατανενόηκας, ὃς ἑαυτὸν μὲν καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους φόβους φοβεῖται, τῶν δεινῶν δʼ οὐδὲ ἓν φοβεῖται;
168a. No, I have not, he replied. Or an opinion which is an opinion of opinions and of itself, but without any opinion such as the other opinions have? By no means. But it is apparently a science of this kind that we are assuming—one that is a science of no branch of study, but a science of itself and of the other sciences. So we are. And it is a strange thing, if it really exists? For we should not affirm as yet that it does not exist, but should still consider whether it does exist.
168a. οὐ κατανενόηκα, ἔφη. δόξαν δὲ δοξῶν δόξαν καὶ αὑτῆς, ὧν δὲ αἱ ἄλλαι δοξάζουσιν μηδὲν δοξάζουσαν; οὐδαμῶς. ἀλλʼ ἐπιστήμην, ὡς ἔοικεν, φαμέν τινα εἶναι τοιαύτην, ἥτις μαθήματος μὲν οὐδενός ἐστιν ἐπιστήμη, αὑτῆς δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν ἐπιστήμη; φαμὲν γάρ. οὐκοῦν ἄτοπον, εἰ ἄρα καὶ ἔστιν; μηδὲν γάρ πω διισχυριζώμεθα ὡς οὐκ ἔστιν, ἀλλʼ εἰ ἔστιν ἔτι σκοπῶμεν.
168b. You are right. Well now, this science is a science of something, that is, it has a certain faculty whereby it can be a science of something, has it not? Certainly. For, you know, we say the greater has a certain faculty whereby it can be greater than something? Quite so. That is, than something smaller, if it is to be greater. Necessarily. So if we could find a greater which is greater than other greater things, and than itself, but not greater than the things beside which the others are greater, I take it there can be no doubt that it would be in the situation of being, if greater than itself, at the same time smaller than itself, would it not?
168b. ὀρθῶς λέγεις. φέρε δή· ἔστι μὲν αὕτη ἡ ἐπιστήμη τινὸς ἐπιστήμη, καὶ ἔχει τινὰ τοιαύτην δύναμιν ὥστε τινὸς εἶναι· ἦ γάρ; πάνυ γε. καὶ γὰρ τὸ μεῖζόν φαμεν τοιαύτην τινὰ ἔχειν δύναμιν, ὥστε τινὸς εἶναι μεῖζον; ἔχει γάρ. οὐκοῦν ἐλάττονός τινος, εἴπερ ἔσται μεῖζον. ἀνάγκη. εἰ οὖν τι εὕροιμεν μεῖζον, ὃ τῶν μὲν μειζόνων ἐστὶν μεῖζον καὶ ἑαυτοῦ, ὧν δὲ τἆλλα μείζω ἐστὶν μηδενὸς μεῖζον, πάντως ἄν που ἐκεῖνό γʼ αὐτῷ ὑπάρχοι, εἴπερ ἑαυτοῦ μεῖζον εἴη, καὶ ἔλαττον ἑαυτοῦ εἶναι·
168c. Most inevitably, Socrates, he said. Or again, if there is a double of other doubles and of itself, both it and the others must of course be halves, if it is to be their double; for, you know, a double cannot be “of” anything else than its half. True. And what is more than itself will also be less, and the heavier will be lighter, and the older younger, and so on with everything else: whatever has its own faculty applied to itself will have also the natural quality to which its faculty was applicable, will it not?
168c. ἢ οὔ; πολλὴ ἀνάγκη, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες. οὐκοῦν καὶ εἴ τι διπλάσιόν ἐστιν τῶν τε ἄλλων διπλασίων καὶ ἑαυτοῦ, ἡμίσεος δήπου ὄντος ἑαυτοῦ τε καὶ τῶν ἄλλων διπλάσιον ἂν εἴη· οὐ γάρ ἐστίν που ἄλλου διπλάσιον ἢ ἡμίσεος. ἀληθῆ. πλέον δὲ αὑτοῦ ὂν οὐ καὶ ἔλαττον ἔσται, καὶ βαρύτερον ὂν κουφότερον, καὶ πρεσβύτερον ὂν νεώτερον, καὶ τἆλλα πάντα ὡσαύτως, ὅτιπερ ἂν τὴν ἑαυτοῦ δύναμιν πρὸς ἑαυτὸ ἔχῃ, οὐ καὶ ἐκείνην ἕξει τὴν οὐσίαν, πρὸς ἣν ἡ δύναμις αὐτοῦ ἦν;
168d. For instance, hearing is, as we say, just a hearing of sound, is it not? Yes. So if it is to hear itself, it will hear a sound of its own; for it would not hear otherwise. Most inevitably. And sight, I suppose, my excellent friend, if it is to see itself, must needs have a color; for sight can never see what is colorless.
168d. λέγω δὲ τὸ τοιόνδε· οἷον ἡ ἀκοή, φαμέν, οὐκ ἄλλου τινὸς ἦν ἀκοὴ ἢ φωνῆς· ἦ γάρ; ναί. οὐκοῦν εἴπερ αὐτὴ αὑτῆς ἀκούσεται, φωνὴν ἐχούσης ἑαυτῆς ἀκούσεται· οὐ γὰρ ἂν ἄλλως ἀκούσειεν. πολλὴ ἀνάγκη. καὶ ἡ ὄψις γέ που, ὦ ἄριστε, εἴπερ ὄψεται αὐτὴ ἑαυτήν, χρῶμά τι αὐτὴν ἀνάγκη ἔχειν· ἄχρων γὰρ ὄψις οὐδὲν [ἂν] μή ποτε ἴδῃ.
168e. No more it can. Then do you perceive, Critias, in the various cases we have propounded, how some of them strike us as absolutely impossible, while others raise serious doubts as to the faculty of the thing being ever applicable to itself? For with magnitudes, numbers, and the like it is absolutely impossible, is it not? Certainly.
168e. οὐ γὰρ οὖν. ὁρᾷς οὖν, ὦ Κριτία, ὅτι ὅσα διεληλύθαμεν, τὰ μὲν αὐτῶν ἀδύνατα παντάπασι φαίνεται ἡμῖν, τὰ δʼ ἀπιστεῖται σφόδρα μή ποτʼ ἂν τὴν ἑαυτῶν δύναμιν πρὸς ἑαυτὰ σχεῖν; μεγέθη μὲν γὰρ καὶ πλήθη καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα παντάπασιν ἀδύνατον· ἢ οὐχί; πάνυ γε.
169. But again, with hearing and sight, or in the further bases of motion moving itself and heat burning itself, and all other actions of the sort, the fact must appear incredible to some, but perhaps not to others.
169. ἀκοὴ δʼ αὖ καὶ ὄψις καὶ ἔτι γε κίνησις αὐτὴ ἑαυτὴν κινεῖν, καὶ θερμότης κάειν, καὶ πάντα αὖ τὰ τοιαῦτα τοῖς μὲν ἀπιστίαν ⟨ἂν⟩ παράσχοι, ἴσως δέ τισιν οὔ.