394a. And the old man on hearing this was frightened and departed in silence, and having gone apart from the camp he prayed at length to Apollo, invoking the appellations of the god, and reminding him of and asking requital for any of his gifts that had found favor whether in the building of temples or the sacrifice of victims. In return for these things he prayed that the Achaeans should suffer for his tears by the god’s shafts. It is in this way, my dear fellow,” I said, “that without imitation simple narration results.”
394a. ὁ δὲ πρεσβύτης ἀκούσας ἔδεισέν τε καὶ ἀπῄει σιγῇ, ἀποχωρήσας δὲ ἐκ τοῦ στρατοπέδου πολλὰ τῷ Ἀπόλλωνι ηὔχετο, τάς τε ἐπωνυμίας τοῦ θεοῦ ἀνακαλῶν καὶ ὑπομιμνῄσκων καὶ ἀπαιτῶν, εἴ τι πώποτε ἢ ἐν ναῶν οἰκοδομήσεσιν ἢ ἐν ἱερῶν θυσίαις κεχαρισμένον δωρήσαιτο· ὧν δὴ χάριν κατηύχετο τεῖσαι τοὺς Ἀχαιοὺς τὰ ἃ δάκρυα τοῖς ἐκείνου βέλεσιν. οὕτως, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ ἑταῖρε, ἄνευ μιμήσεως ἁπλῆ διήγησις γίγνεται.
394b. “I understand,” he said. “Understand then,” said I, “that the opposite of this arises when one removes the words of the poet between and leaves the alternation of speeches.” “This too I understand,” he said, “—it is what happens in tragedy.” “You have conceived me most rightly,” I said, “and now I think I can make plain to you what I was unable to before, that there is one kind of poetry and tale-telling which works wholly through imitation, as you remarked, tragedy and comedy; and another which employs the recital of the poet himself, best exemplified, I presume, in the dithyramb; and there is again that which employs both, in epic poetry and in many other places, if you apprehend me.”
394b. μανθάνω, ἔφη. μάνθανε τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὅτι ταύτης αὖ ἐναντία γίγνεται, ὅταν τις τὰ τοῦ ποιητοῦ τὰ μεταξὺ τῶν ῥήσεων ἐξαιρῶν τὰ ἀμοιβαῖα καταλείπῃ. καὶ τοῦτο, ἔφη, μανθάνω, ὅτι ἔστιν τὸ περὶ τὰς τραγῳδίας τοιοῦτον. ὀρθότατα, ἔφην, ὑπέλαβες, καὶ οἶμαί σοι ἤδη δηλοῦν ὃ ἔμπροσθεν οὐχ οἷός τʼ ἦ, ὅτι τῆς ποιήσεώς τε καὶ μυθολογίας ἡ μὲν διὰ μιμήσεως ὅλη ἐστίν, ὥσπερ σὺ λέγεις, τραγῳδία τε καὶ κωμῳδία, ἡ δὲ διʼ ἀπαγγελίας αὐτοῦ τοῦ ποιητοῦ—εὕροις δʼ ἂν αὐτὴν μάλιστά που ἐν διθυράμβοις— ἡ δʼ αὖ διʼ ἀμφοτέρων ἔν τε τῇ τῶν ἐπῶν ποιήσει, πολλαχοῦ δὲ καὶ ἄλλοθι, εἴ μοι μανθάνεις.
394c. “I understand now,” he said, “what you then meant.” “Recall then also the preceding statement that we were done with the ‘what’ of speech and still had to consider the ’how.’” “I remember.”
394c. ἀλλὰ συνίημι, ἔφη, ὃ τότε ἐβούλου λέγειν. καὶ τὸ πρὸ τούτου δὴ ἀναμνήσθητι, ὅτι ἔφαμεν ἃ μὲν λεκτέον ἤδη εἰρῆσθαι, ὡς δὲ λεκτέον ἔτι σκεπτέον εἶναι. ἀλλὰ μέμνημαι.
394d. “What I meant then was just this, that we must reach a decision whether we are to suffer our poets to narrate as imitators or in part as imitators and in part not, and what sort of things in each case, or not allow them to imitate at all.” “I divine,” he said, “that you are considering whether we shall admit tragedy and comedy into our city or not.” “Perhaps,” said I, “and perhaps even more than that. For I certainly do not yet know myself, but whithersoever the wind, as it were, of the argument blows, there lies our course.”
394d. τοῦτο τοίνυν αὐτὸ ἦν ὃ ἔλεγον, ὅτι χρείη διομολογήσασθαι πότερον ἐάσομεν τοὺς ποιητὰς μιμουμένους ἡμῖν τὰς διηγήσεις ποιεῖσθαι ἢ τὰ μὲν μιμουμένους, τὰ δὲ μή, καὶ ὁποῖα ἑκάτερα, ἢ οὐδὲ μιμεῖσθαι. μαντεύομαι, ἔφη, σκοπεῖσθαί σε εἴτε παραδεξόμεθα τραγῳδίαν τε καὶ κωμῳδίαν εἰς τὴν πόλιν, εἴτε καὶ οὔ. ἴσως, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἴσως δὲ καὶ πλείω ἔτι τούτων· οὐ γὰρ δὴ ἔγωγέ πω οἶδα, ἀλλʼ ὅπῃ ἂν ὁ λόγος ὥσπερ πνεῦμα φέρῃ, ταύτῃ ἰτέον. καὶ καλῶς γʼ, ἔφη, λέγεις.
394e. “Well said,” he replied. “This then, Adeimantus, is the point we must keep in view, do we wish our guardians to be good mimics or not? Or is this also a consequence of what we said before, that each one could practise well only one pursuit and not many, but if he attempted the latter, dabbling in many things, he would fail of distinction in all?” “Of course it is.” “And does not the same rule hold for imitation, that the same man is not able to imitate many things well as he can one?” “No, he is not.” “Still less, then, will he be able to combine the practice of any worthy pursuit with the imitation of many things and the quality of a mimic; since, unless I mistake, the same men cannot practise well at once even the two forms of imitation that appear most nearly akin, as the writing of tragedy and comedy?
394e. τόδε τοίνυν, ὦ Ἀδείμαντε, ἄθρει, πότερον μιμητικοὺς ἡμῖν δεῖ εἶναι τοὺς φύλακας ἢ οὔ· ἢ καὶ τοῦτο τοῖς ἔμπροσθεν ἕπεται, ὅτι εἷς ἕκαστος ἓν μὲν ἂν ἐπιτήδευμα καλῶς ἐπιτηδεύοι, πολλὰ δʼ οὔ, ἀλλʼ εἰ τοῦτο ἐπιχειροῖ, πολλῶν ἐφαπτόμενος πάντων ἀποτυγχάνοι ἄν, ὥστʼ εἶναί που ἐλλόγιμος; τί δʼ οὐ μέλλει; οὐκοῦν καὶ περὶ μιμήσεως ὁ αὐτὸς λόγος, ὅτι πολλὰ ὁ αὐτὸς μιμεῖσθαι εὖ ὥσπερ ἓν οὐ δυνατός; οὐ γὰρ οὖν.
395a. Did you not just now call these two imitations?” “I did, and you are right in saying that the same men are not able to succeed in both, nor yet to be at once good rhapsodists and actors.” “True.” “But neither can the same men be actors for tragedies and comedies —and all these are imitations, are they not?”
395a. σχολῇ ἄρα ἐπιτηδεύσει γέ τι ἅμα τῶν ἀξίων λόγου ἐπιτηδευμάτων καὶ πολλὰ μιμήσεται καὶ ἔσται μιμητικός, ἐπεί που οὐδὲ τὰ δοκοῦντα ἐγγὺς ἀλλήλων εἶναι δύο μιμήματα δύνανται οἱ αὐτοὶ ἅμα εὖ μιμεῖσθαι, οἷον κωμῳδίαν καὶ τραγῳδίαν ποιοῦντες. ἢ οὐ μιμήματε ἄρτι τούτω ἐκάλεις; ἔγωγε· καὶ ἀληθῆ γε λέγεις, ὅτι οὐ δύνανται οἱ αὐτοί. οὐδὲ μὴν ῥαψῳδοί γε καὶ ὑποκριταὶ ἅμα. ἀληθῆ. ἀλλʼ οὐδέ τοι ὑποκριταὶ κωμῳδοῖς τε καὶ τραγῳδοῖς οἱ αὐτοί· πάντα δὲ ταῦτα μιμήματα.
395b–c. “Yes, imitations.” “And to still smaller coinage than this, in my opinion, Adeimantus, proceeds the fractioning of human faculty, so as to be incapable of imitating many things or of doing the things themselves of which the imitations are likenesses.” “Most true,” he replied. “If, then, we are to maintain our original principle, that our guardians, released from all other crafts, are to be expert craftsmen of civic liberty, and pursue nothing else that does not conduce to this, it would not be fitting for these to do nor yet to imitate anything else. But if they imitate they should from childhood up imitate what is appropriate to them —men, that is, who are brave, sober, pious, free and all things of that kind; but things unbecoming the free man they should neither do nor be clever at imitating, nor yet any other shameful thing, lest from the imitation they imbibe the reality.
395b–c. ἢ οὔ; μιμήματα. καὶ ἔτι γε τούτων, ὦ Ἀδείμαντε, φαίνεταί μοι εἰς σμικρότερα κατακεκερματίσθαι ἡ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου φύσις, ὥστε ἀδύνατος εἶναι πολλὰ καλῶς μιμεῖσθαι ἢ αὐτὰ ἐκεῖνα πράττειν ὧν δὴ καὶ τὰ μιμήματά ἐστιν ἀφομοιώματα. ἀληθέστατα, ἦ δʼ ὅς. εἰ ἄρα τὸν πρῶτον λόγον διασώσομεν, τοὺς φύλακας ἡμῖν τῶν ἄλλων πασῶν δημιουργιῶν ἀφειμένους δεῖν εἶναι δημιουργοὺς ἐλευθερίας τῆς πόλεως πάνυ ἀκριβεῖς καὶ μηδὲν ἄλλο ἐπιτηδεύειν ὅτι μὴ εἰς τοῦτο φέρει, οὐδὲν δὴ δέοι ἂν αὐτοὺς ἄλλο πράττειν οὐδὲ μιμεῖσθαι· ἐὰν δὲ μιμῶνται, μιμεῖσθαι τὰ τούτοις προσήκοντα εὐθὺς ἐκ παίδων, ἀνδρείους, σώφρονας, ὁσίους, ἐλευθέρους, καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα πάντα, τὰ δὲ ἀνελεύθερα μήτε ποιεῖν μήτε δεινοὺς εἶναι μιμήσασθαι, μηδὲ ἄλλο μηδὲν τῶν αἰσχρῶν, ἵνα μὴ ἐκ τῆς μιμήσεως τοῦ εἶναι
395d. Or have you not observed that imitations, if continued from youth far into life, settle down into habits and (second) nature in the body, the speech, and the thought?” “Yes, indeed,” said he. “We will not then allow our charges, whom we expect to prove good men, being men, to play the parts of women and imitate a woman young or old wrangling with her husband, defying heaven, loudly boasting, fortunate in her own conceit, or involved in misfortune and possessed by grief and lamentation—still less a woman that is sick, in love, or in labor.”
395d. ἀπολαύσωσιν. ἢ οὐκ ᾔσθησαι ὅτι αἱ μιμήσεις, ἐὰν ἐκ νέων πόρρω διατελέσωσιν, εἰς ἔθη τε καὶ φύσιν καθίστανται καὶ κατὰ σῶμα καὶ φωνὰς καὶ κατὰ τὴν διάνοιαν; καὶ μάλα, ἦ δʼ ὅς. οὐ δὴ ἐπιτρέψομεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὧν φαμὲν κήδεσθαι καὶ δεῖν αὐτοὺς ἄνδρας ἀγαθοὺς γενέσθαι, γυναῖκα μιμεῖσθαι ἄνδρας ὄντας, ἢ νέαν ἢ πρεσβυτέραν, ἢ ἀνδρὶ λοιδορουμένην ἢ πρὸς θεοὺς ἐρίζουσάν τε καὶ μεγαλαυχουμένην, οἰομένην εὐδαίμονα εἶναι, ἢ ἐν συμφοραῖς τε καὶ πένθεσιν καὶ θρήνοις ἐχομένην· κάμνουσαν δὲ ἢ ἐρῶσαν ἢ ὠδίνουσαν, πολλοῦ καὶ δεήσομεν.
395e. “Most certainly not,” he replied. “Nor may they imitate slaves, female and male, doing the offices of slaves.” “No, not that either.” “Nor yet, as it seems, bad men who are cowards and who do the opposite of the things we just now spoke of, reviling and lampooning one another, speaking foul words in their cups or when sober and in other ways sinning against themselves and others in word and deed after the fashion of such men.
395e. παντάπασι μὲν οὖν, ἦ δʼ ὅς. οὐδέ γε δούλας τε καὶ δούλους πράττοντας ὅσα δούλων. οὐδὲ τοῦτο. οὐδέ γε ἄνδρας κακούς, ὡς ἔοικεν, δειλούς τε καὶ τὰ ἐναντία πράττοντας ὧν νυνδὴ εἴπομεν, κακηγοροῦντάς τε καὶ κωμῳδοῦντας ἀλλήλους καὶ αἰσχρολογοῦντας, μεθύοντας ἢ καὶ νήφοντας, ἢ καὶ ἄλλα ὅσα οἱ τοιοῦτοι καὶ ἐν λόγοις καὶ ἐν ἔργοις ἁμαρτάνουσιν εἰς αὑτούς τε καὶ εἰς ἄλλους, οἶμαι δὲ οὐδὲ μαινομένοις ἐθιστέον ἀφομοιοῦν αὑτοὺς ἐν λόγοις οὐδὲ ἐν ἔργοις· γνωστέον μὲν γὰρ καὶ μαινομένους καὶ πονηροὺς ἄνδρας τε καὶ γυναῖκας, ποιητέον δὲ οὐδὲν τούτων οὐδὲ μιμητέον.
396a. And I take it they must not form the habit of likening themselves to madmen either in words nor yet in deeds. For while knowledge they must have both of mad and bad men and women, they must do and imitate nothing of this kind.” “Most true,” he said. “What of this?” I said, “—are they to imitate smiths and other craftsmen or the rowers of triremes and those who call the time to them or other things connected therewith?”
396a. ἀληθέστατα, ἔφη. τί δέ; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· χαλκεύοντας ἤ τι ἄλλο δημιουργοῦντας, ἢ ἐλαύνοντας τριήρεις ἢ κελεύοντας τούτοις, ἤ τι ἄλλο τῶν περὶ ταῦτα μιμητέον;
396b. “How could they,” he said, “since it will be forbidden them even to pay any attention to such things?” “Well, then, neighing horses and lowing bulls, and the noise of rivers and the roar of the sea and the thunder and everything of that kind—will they imitate these?” “Nay, they have been forbidden,” he said, “to be mad or liken themselves to madmen.” “If, then, I understand your meaning,” said I, “there is a form of diction and narrative in which the really good and true man would narrate anything that he had to say, and another form unlike this to which the man of the opposite birth and breeding would cleave and which he would tell his story.”
396b. καὶ πῶς; ἔφη, οἷς γε οὐδὲ προσέχειν τὸν νοῦν τούτων οὐδενὶ ἐξέσται; τί δέ; ἵππους χρεμετίζοντας καὶ ταύρους μυκωμένους καὶ ποταμοὺς ψοφοῦντας καὶ θάλατταν κτυποῦσαν καὶ βροντὰς καὶ πάντα αὖ τὰ τοιαῦτα ἦ μιμήσονται; ἀλλʼ ἀπείρηται αὐτοῖς, ἔφη, μήτε μαίνεσθαι μήτε μαινομένοις ἀφομοιοῦσθαι. εἰ ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, μανθάνω ἃ σὺ λέγεις, ἔστιν τι εἶδος λέξεώς τε καὶ διηγήσεως ἐν ᾧ ἂν διηγοῖτο ὁ τῷ ὄντι καλὸς κἀγαθός, ὁπότε τι δέοι αὐτὸν λέγειν, καὶ ἕτερον αὖ ἀνόμοιον τούτῳ εἶδος, οὗ ἂν ἔχοιτο ἀεὶ καὶ ἐν ᾧ διηγοῖτο ὁ ἐναντίως ἐκείνῳ φύς τε καὶ τραφείς.
396c–d. “What are these forms?” he said. “A man of the right sort, I think, when he comes in the course of his narrative to some word or act of a good man will be willing to impersonate the other in reporting it, and will feel no shame at that kind of mimicry, by preference imitating the good man when he acts steadfastly and sensibly, and less and more reluctantly when he is upset by sickness or love or drunkenness or any other mishap. But when he comes to someone unworthy of himself, he will not wish to liken himself in earnest to one who is inferior, except in the few cases where he is doing something good, but will be embarrassed both because he is unpractised in the mimicry of such characters, and also because he shrinks in distaste from molding and fitting himself the types of baser things.
396c–d. ποῖα δή, ἔφη, ταῦτα; ὁ μέν μοι δοκεῖ, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, μέτριος ἀνήρ, ἐπειδὰν ἀφίκηται ἐν τῇ διηγήσει ἐπὶ λέξιν τινὰ ἢ πρᾶξιν ἀνδρὸς ἀγαθοῦ, ἐθελήσειν ὡς αὐτὸς ὢν ἐκεῖνος ἀπαγγέλλειν καὶ οὐκ αἰσχυνεῖσθαι ἐπὶ τῇ τοιαύτῃ μιμήσει, μάλιστα μὲν μιμούμενος τὸν ἀγαθὸν ἀσφαλῶς τε καὶ ἐμφρόνως πράττοντα, ἐλάττω δὲ καὶ ἧττον ἢ ὑπὸ νόσων ἢ ὑπὸ ἐρώτων ἐσφαλμένον ἢ καὶ ὑπὸ μέθης ἤ τινος ἄλλης συμφορᾶς· ὅταν δὲ γίγνηται κατά τινα ἑαυτοῦ ἀνάξιον, οὐκ ἐθελήσειν σπουδῇ ἀπεικάζειν ἑαυτὸν τῷ χείρονι, εἰ μὴ ἄρα κατὰ βραχύ, ὅταν τι χρηστὸν ποιῇ, ἀλλʼ αἰσχυνεῖσθαι, ἅμα μὲν ἀγύμναστος ὢν τοῦ μιμεῖσθαι τοὺς τοιούτους, ἅμα δὲ καὶ δυσχεραίνων αὑτὸν ἐκμάττειν τε καὶ
396e. His mind disdains them, unless it be for jest.” “Naturally,” he said. “Then the narrative that he will employ will be the kind that we just now illustrated by the verses of Homer, and his diction will be one that partakes of both, of imitation and simple narration, but there will be a small portion of imitation in a long discourse—or is there nothing in what I say?” “Yes, indeed,” he said, “that is the type and pattern of such a speaker.” “Then,” said I, “the other kind speaker, the more debased he is the less will he shrink from imitating anything and everything.
396e. ἐνιστάναι εἰς τοὺς τῶν κακιόνων τύπους, ἀτιμάζων τῇ διανοίᾳ, ὅτι μὴ παιδιᾶς χάριν. εἰκός, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν διηγήσει χρήσεται οἵᾳ ἡμεῖς ὀλίγον πρότερον διήλθομεν περὶ τὰ τοῦ Ὁμήρου ἔπη, καὶ ἔσται αὐτοῦ ἡ λέξις μετέχουσα μὲν ἀμφοτέρων, μιμήσεώς τε καὶ τῆς ἄλλης διηγήσεως, σμικρὸν δέ τι μέρος ἐν πολλῷ λόγῳ τῆς μιμήσεως; ἢ οὐδὲν λέγω; καὶ μάλα, ἔφη, οἷόν γε ἀνάγκη τὸν τύπον εἶναι τοῦ τοιούτου ῥήτορος.
397a. He will think nothing unworthy of himself, so that he will attempt, seriously and in the presence of many, to imitate all things, including those we just now mentioned—claps of thunder, and the noise of wind and hail and axles and pulleys, and the notes of trumpets and flutes and pan-pipes, and the sounds of all instruments, and the cries of dogs, sheep, and birds; and so his style will depend wholly on imitation in voice and gesture, or will contain but a little of pure narration.”
397a. οὐκοῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὁ μὴ τοιοῦτος αὖ, ὅσῳ ἂν φαυλότερος ᾖ, πάντα τε μᾶλλον διηγήσεται καὶ οὐδὲν ἑαυτοῦ ἀνάξιον οἰήσεται εἶναι, ὥστε πάντα ἐπιχειρήσει μιμεῖσθαι σπουδῇ τε καὶ ἐναντίον πολλῶν, καὶ ἃ νυνδὴ ἐλέγομεν, βροντάς τε καὶ ψόφους ἀνέμων τε καὶ χαλαζῶν καὶ ἀξόνων τε καὶ τροχιλιῶν, καὶ σαλπίγγων καὶ αὐλῶν καὶ συρίγγων καὶ πάντων ὀργάνων φωνάς, καὶ ἔτι κυνῶν καὶ προβάτων καὶ ὀρνέων φθόγγους· καὶ ἔσται δὴ ἡ τούτου λέξις ἅπασα διὰ μιμήσεως φωναῖς τε καὶ σχήμασιν, ἢ σμικρόν τι διηγήσεως ἔχουσα;
397b. “That too follows of necessity,” he said. “These, then,” said I, “were the two types of diction of which I was aking.” “There are those two,” he replied. “Now does not one of the two involve slight variations, and if we assign a suitable pitch and rhythm to the diction, is not the result that the right speaker speaks almost on the same note and in one cadence—for the changes are slight— and similarly in a rhythm of nearly the same kind?”
397b. ἀνάγκη, ἔφη, καὶ τοῦτο. ταῦτα τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἔλεγον τὰ δύο εἴδη τῆς λέξεως. καὶ γὰρ ἔστιν, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν αὐτοῖν τὸ μὲν σμικρὰς τὰς μεταβολὰς ἔχει, καὶ ἐάν τις ἀποδιδῷ πρέπουσαν ἁρμονίαν καὶ ῥυθμὸν τῇ λέξει, ὀλίγου πρὸς τὴν αὐτὴν γίγνεται λέγειν τῷ ὀρθῶς λέγοντι καὶ ἐν μιᾷ ἁρμονίᾳ—σμικραὶ γὰρ αἱ μεταβολαί—καὶ δὴ καὶ ἐν ῥυθμῷ ὡσαύτως παραπλησίῳ τινί;
397c. “Quite so.” “But what of the other type? Does it not require the opposite, every kind of pitch and all rhythms, if it too is to have appropriate expression, since it involves manifold forms of variation?” “Emphatically so.” “And do all poets and speakers hit upon one type or the other of diction or some blend which they combine of both?”
397c. κομιδῇ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη, οὕτως ἔχει. τί δὲ τὸ τοῦ ἑτέρου εἶδος; οὐ τῶν ἐναντίων δεῖται, πασῶν μὲν ἁρμονιῶν, πάντων δὲ ῥυθμῶν, εἰ μέλλει αὖ οἰκείως λέγεσθαι, διὰ τὸ παντοδαπὰς μορφὰς τῶν μεταβολῶν ἔχειν; καὶ σφόδρα γε οὕτως ἔχει. ἆρʼ οὖν πάντες οἱ ποιηταὶ καὶ οἵ τι λέγοντες ἢ τῷ ἑτέρῳ τούτων ἐπιτυγχάνουσιν τύπῳ τῆς λέξεως ἢ τῷ ἑτέρῳ ἢ ἐξ ἀμφοτέρων τινὶ συγκεραννύντες; ἀνάγκη, ἔφη.
397d. “They must,” he said. “What, then,” said I, “are we to do? Shall we admit all of these into the city, or one of the unmixed types, or the mixed type?” “If my vote prevails,” he said, “the unmixed imitator of the good.” “Nay, but the mixed type also is pleasing, Adeimantus, and far most pleasing to boys and their tutors and the great mob is the opposite of your choice.” “Most pleasing it is.” “But perhaps,” said I, “you would affirm it to be ill-suited to our polity, because there is no twofold or manifold man among us, since every man does one thing.”
397d. τί οὖν ποιήσομεν; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· πότερον εἰς τὴν πόλιν πάντας τούτους παραδεξόμεθα ἢ τῶν ἀκράτων τὸν ἕτερον ἢ τὸν κεκραμένον; ἐὰν ἡ ἐμή, ἔφη, νικᾷ, τὸν τοῦ ἐπιεικοῦς μιμητὴν ἄκρατον. ἀλλὰ μήν, ὦ Ἀδείμαντε, ἡδύς γε καὶ ὁ κεκραμένος, πολὺ δὲ ἥδιστος παισί τε καὶ παιδαγωγοῖς ὁ ἐναντίος οὗ σὺ αἱρῇ καὶ τῷ πλείστῳ ὄχλῳ. ἥδιστος γάρ. ἀλλʼ ἴσως, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὐκ ἂν αὐτὸν ἁρμόττειν φαίης τῇ ἡμετέρᾳ πολιτείᾳ, ὅτι οὐκ ἔστιν διπλοῦς ἀνὴρ παρʼ ἡμῖν οὐδὲ πολλαπλοῦς, ἐπειδὴ ἕκαστος ἓν πράττει.
397e–398a. “It is not suited.” “And is this not the reason why such a city is the only one in which we shall find the cobbler a cobbler and not a pilot in addition to his cobbling, and the farmer a farmer and not a judge added to his farming, and the soldier a soldier and not a money-maker in addition to his soldiery, and so of all the rest?” “True,” he said. “If a man, then, it seems, who was capable by his cunning of assuming every kind of shape and imitating all things should arrive in our city, bringing with himself the poems which he wished to exhibit, we should fall down and worship him as a holy and wondrous and delightful creature, but should say to him that there is no man of that kind among us in our city, nor is it lawful for such a man to arise among us, and we should send him away to another city, after pouring myrrh down over his head and crowning him with fillets of wool, but we ourselves, for our souls’ good, should continue to employ
397e–398a. οὐ γὰρ οὖν ἁρμόττει. οὐκοῦν διὰ ταῦτα ἐν μόνῃ τῇ τοιαύτῃ πόλει τόν τε σκυτοτόμον σκυτοτόμον εὑρήσομεν καὶ οὐ κυβερνήτην πρὸς τῇ σκυτοτομίᾳ, καὶ τὸν γεωργὸν γεωργὸν καὶ οὐ δικαστὴν πρὸς τῇ γεωργίᾳ, καὶ τὸν πολεμικὸν πολεμικὸν καὶ οὐ χρηματιστὴν πρὸς τῇ πολεμικῇ, καὶ πάντας οὕτω; ἀληθῆ, ἔφη. ἄνδρα δή, ὡς ἔοικε, δυνάμενον ὑπὸ σοφίας παντοδαπὸν γίγνεσθαι καὶ μιμεῖσθαι πάντα χρήματα, εἰ ἡμῖν ἀφίκοιτο εἰς τὴν πόλιν αὐτός τε καὶ τὰ ποιήματα βουλόμενος ἐπιδείξασθαι, προσκυνοῖμεν ἂν αὐτὸν ὡς ἱερὸν καὶ θαυμαστὸν καὶ ἡδύν, εἴποιμεν δʼ ἂν ὅτι οὐκ ἔστιν τοιοῦτος ἀνὴρ ἐν τῇ πόλει παρʼ ἡμῖν οὔτε θέμις ἐγγενέσθαι, ἀποπέμποιμέν τε εἰς ἄλλην πόλιν μύρον κατὰ τῆς κεφαλῆς καταχέαντες καὶ ἐρίῳ στέψαντες, αὐτοὶ δʼ ἂν τῷ αὐστηροτέρῳ καὶ ἀηδεστέρῳ ποιητῇ χρῴμεθα καὶ μυθολόγῳ ὠφελίας ἕνεκα, ὃς ἡμῖν τὴν τοῦ ἐπιεικοῦς λέξιν μιμοῖτο καὶ τὰ λεγόμενα λέγοι ἐν ἐκείνοις τοῖς τύποις οἷς κατʼ ἀρχὰς ἐνομοθετησάμεθα, ὅτε τοὺς στρατιώτας ἐπεχειροῦμεν παιδεύειν.
398b. the more austere and less delightful poet and tale-teller, who would imitate the diction of the good man and would tell his tale in the patterns which we prescribed in the beginning, when we set out to educate our soldiers.” “We certainly should do that if it rested with us.” “And now, my friend,” said I, “we may say that we have completely finished the part of music that concerns speeches and tales. For we have set forth what is to be said and how it is to be said.” “I think so too,” he replied.
398b. καὶ μάλʼ, ἔφη, οὕτως ἂν ποιοῖμεν, εἰ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν εἴη. νῦν δή, εἶπον ἐγώ, ὦ φίλε, κινδυνεύει ἡμῖν τῆς μουσικῆς τὸ περὶ λόγους τε καὶ μύθους παντελῶς διαπεπεράνθαι· ἅ τε γὰρ λεκτέον καὶ ὡς λεκτέον εἴρηται. καὶ αὐτῷ μοι δοκεῖ, ἔφη.
398c. “After this, then,” said I, “comes the manner of song and tunes?” “Obviously.” “And having gone thus far, could not everybody discover what we must say of their character in order to conform to what has already been said?” “I am afraid that ‘everybody’ does not include me,” laughed Glaucon; “I cannot sufficiently divine off-hand what we ought to say, though I have a suspicion.” “You certainly, I presume,” said I, “have sufficient a understanding of this—that the song is composed of three things, the words, the tune, and the rhythm?”
398c. οὐκοῦν μετὰ τοῦτο, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, τὸ περὶ ᾠδῆς τρόπου καὶ μελῶν λοιπόν; δῆλα δή. ἆρʼ οὖν οὐ πᾶς ἤδη ἂν εὕροι ἃ ἡμῖν λεκτέον περὶ αὐτῶν οἷα δεῖ εἶναι, εἴπερ μέλλομεν τοῖς προειρημένοις συμφωνήσειν; καὶ ὁ Γλαύκων ἐπιγελάσας, ἐγὼ τοίνυν, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, κινδυνεύω ἐκτὸς τῶν πάντων εἶναι· οὔκουν ἱκανῶς γε ἔχω ἐν τῷ παρόντι συμβαλέσθαι ποῖα ἄττα δεῖ ἡμᾶς λέγειν· ὑποπτεύω μέντοι. πάντως δήπου, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, πρῶτον μὲν τόδε ἱκανῶς ἔχεις λέγειν, ὅτι τὸ μέλος ἐκ τριῶν ἐστιν συγκείμενον, λόγου τε καὶ ἁρμονίας καὶ ῥυθμοῦ.
398d. “Yes,” said he, “that much.” “And so far as it is words, it surely in no manner differs from words not sung in the requirement of conformity to the patterns and manner that we have prescribed?” “True,” he said. “And again, the music and the rhythm must follow the speech.” “Of course.” “But we said we did not require dirges and lamentations in words.” “We do not.” “What, then, are the dirge-like modes of music?
398d. ναί, ἔφη, τοῦτό γε. οὐκοῦν ὅσον γε αὐτοῦ λόγος ἐστίν, οὐδὲν δήπου διαφέρει τοῦ μὴ ᾀδομένου λόγου πρὸς τὸ ἐν τοῖς αὐτοῖς δεῖν τύποις λέγεσθαι οἷς ἄρτι προείπομεν καὶ ὡσαύτως; ἀληθῆ, ἔφη. καὶ μὴν τήν γε ἁρμονίαν καὶ ῥυθμὸν ἀκολουθεῖν δεῖ τῷ λόγῳ. πῶς δʼ οὔ; ἀλλὰ μέντοι θρήνων γε καὶ ὀδυρμῶν ἔφαμεν ἐν λόγοις οὐδὲν προσδεῖσθαι. οὐ γὰρ οὖν.
398e. Tell me, for you are a musician.” “The mixed Lydian,” he said, “and the tense or higher Lydian, and similar modes.” “These, then,” said I, “we must do away with. For they are useless even to women who are to make the best of themselves, let alone to men.” “Assuredly.” “But again, drunkenness is a thing most unbefitting guardians, and so is softness and sloth.” “Yes.” “What, then, are the soft and convivial modes?” “There are certain Ionian and also Lydian modes that are called lax.”
398e. τίνες οὖν θρηνώδεις ἁρμονίαι; λέγε μοι· σὺ γὰρ μουσικός. μειξολυδιστί, ἔφη, καὶ συντονολυδιστὶ καὶ τοιαῦταί τινες. οὐκοῦν αὗται, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἀφαιρετέαι; ἄχρηστοι γὰρ καὶ γυναιξὶν ἃς δεῖ ἐπιεικεῖς εἶναι, μὴ ὅτι ἀνδράσι. πάνυ γε. ἀλλὰ μὴν μέθη γε φύλαξιν ἀπρεπέστατον καὶ μαλακία καὶ ἀργία. πῶς γὰρ οὔ; τίνες οὖν μαλακαί τε καὶ συμποτικαὶ τῶν ἁρμονιῶν; ἰαστί, ἦ δʼ ὅς, καὶ λυδιστὶ αὖ τινες χαλαραὶ καλοῦνται.
399a–b. “Will you make any use of them for warriors?” “None at all,” he said; “but it would seem that you have left the Dorian and the Phrygian.” “I don’t know the musical modes,” I said, “but leave us that mode that would fittingly imitate the utterances and the accents of a brave man who is engaged in warfare or in any enforced business, and who, when he has failed, either meeting wounds or death or having fallen into some other mishap, in all these conditions confronts fortune with steadfast endurance and repels her strokes. And another for such a man engaged in works of peace, not enforced but voluntary, either trying to persuade somebody of something and imploring him—whether it be a god, through prayer, or a man, by teaching and admonition—or contrariwise yielding himself to another who petitioning or teaching him or trying to change his opinions, and in consequence faring according to his wish, and not bearing himself arrogantly, but in all this acting modestly and moderately and acquiescing in the outcome.
399a–b. ταύταις οὖν, ὦ φίλε, ἐπὶ πολεμικῶν ἀνδρῶν ἔσθʼ ὅτι χρήσῃ; οὐδαμῶς, ἔφη· ἀλλὰ κινδυνεύει σοι δωριστὶ λείπεσθαι καὶ φρυγιστί. οὐκ οἶδα, ἔφην ἐγώ, τὰς ἁρμονίας, ἀλλὰ κατάλειπε ἐκείνην τὴν ἁρμονίαν, ἣ ἔν τε πολεμικῇ πράξει ὄντος ἀνδρείου καὶ ἐν πάσῃ βιαίῳ ἐργασίᾳ πρεπόντως ἂν μιμήσαιτο φθόγγους τε καὶ προσῳδίας, καὶ ἀποτυχόντος ἢ εἰς τραύματα ἢ εἰς θανάτους ἰόντος ἢ εἴς τινα ἄλλην συμφορὰν πεσόντος, ἐν πᾶσι τούτοις παρατεταγμένως καὶ καρτερούντως ἀμυνομένου τὴν τύχην· καὶ ἄλλην αὖ ἐν εἰρηνικῇ τε καὶ μὴ βιαίῳ ἀλλʼ ἐν ἑκουσίᾳ πράξει ὄντος, ἢ τινά τι πείθοντός τε καὶ δεομένου, ἢ εὐχῇ θεὸν ἢ διδαχῇ καὶ νουθετήσει ἄνθρωπον, ἢ τοὐναντίον ἄλλῳ δεομένῳ ἢ διδάσκοντι ἢ μεταπείθοντι ἑαυτὸν ἐπέχοντα, καὶ ἐκ τούτων πράξαντα κατὰ νοῦν, καὶ μὴ ὑπερηφάνως ἔχοντα, ἀλλὰ σωφρόνως τε καὶ μετρίως ἐν πᾶσι τούτοις
399c. Leave us these two modes—the forced and the voluntary—that will best imitate the utterances of men failing or succeeding, the temperate, the brave—leave us these.” “Well,” said he, “you are asking me to leave none other than those I just spoke of.” “Then,” said I, “we shall not need in our songs and airs instruments of many strings or whose compass includes all the harmonies.” “Not in my opinion,” said he. “Then we shall not maintain makers of triangles and harps and all other many stringed and poly-harmonic instruments.”
399c. πράττοντά τε καὶ τὰ ἀποβαίνοντα ἀγαπῶντα. ταύτας δύο ἁρμονίας, βίαιον, ἑκούσιον, δυστυχούντων, εὐτυχούντων, σωφρόνων, ἀνδρείων [ἁρμονίας] αἵτινες φθόγγους μιμήσονται κάλλιστα, ταύτας λεῖπε. ἀλλʼ, ἦ δʼ ὅς, οὐκ ἄλλας αἰτεῖς λείπειν ἢ ἃς νυνδὴ ἐγὼ ἔλεγον. οὐκ ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, πολυχορδίας γε οὐδὲ παναρμονίου ἡμῖν δεήσει ἐν ταῖς ᾠδαῖς τε καὶ μέλεσιν. οὔ μοι, ἔφη, φαίνεται. τριγώνων ἄρα καὶ πηκτίδων καὶ πάντων ὀργάνων ὅσα πολύχορδα καὶ πολυαρμόνια, δημιουργοὺς οὐ θρέψομεν.
399d. “Apparently not.” “Well, will you admit to the city flute-makers and flute-players? Or is not the flute the most ‘many-stringed’ of instruments and do not the pan-harmonics themselves imitate it?” “Clearly,” he said. “You have left,” said I, “the lyre and the cither. These are useful in the city, and in the fields the shepherds would have a little piccolo to pipe on.” “So our argument indicates,” he said.
399d. οὐ φαινόμεθα. τί δέ; αὐλοποιοὺς ἢ αὐλητὰς παραδέξῃ εἰς τὴν πόλιν; ἢ οὐ τοῦτο πολυχορδότατον, καὶ αὐτὰ τὰ παναρμόνια αὐλοῦ τυγχάνει ὄντα μίμημα; δῆλα δή, ἦ δʼ ὅς. λύρα δή σοι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ κιθάρα λείπεται [καὶ] κατὰ πόλιν χρήσιμα· καὶ αὖ κατʼ ἀγροὺς τοῖς νομεῦσι σῦριγξ ἄν τις εἴη. ὡς γοῦν, ἔφη, ὁ λόγος ἡμῖν σημαίνει.
399e. “We are not innovating, my friend, in preferring Apollo and the instruments of Apollo to Marsyas and his instruments.” “No, by heaven!” he said, “I think not.” “And by the dog,” said I, “we have all unawares purged the city which a little while ago we said was wanton.” “In that we show our good sense,” he said. “Come then, let us complete the purification.” “For upon harmonies would follow the consideration of rhythms: we must not pursue complexity nor great variety in the basic movements, but must observe what are the rhythms of a life that is orderly and brave, and after observing them require the foot and the air to conform to that kind of man’s speech and not the speech to the foot and the tune.
399e. οὐδέν γε, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καινὸν ποιοῦμεν, ὦ φίλε, κρίνοντες τὸν Ἀπόλλω καὶ τὰ τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος ὄργανα πρὸ Μαρσύου τε καὶ τῶν ἐκείνου ὀργάνων. μὰ Δία, ἦ δʼ ὅς, οὔ μοι φαινόμεθα. καὶ νὴ τὸν κύνα, εἶπον, λελήθαμέν γε διακαθαίροντες πάλιν ἣν ἄρτι τρυφᾶν ἔφαμεν πόλιν. σωφρονοῦντές γε ἡμεῖς, ἦ δʼ ὅς. ἴθι δή, ἔφην, καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ καθαίρωμεν. ἑπόμενον γὰρ δὴ ταῖς ἁρμονίαις ἂν ἡμῖν εἴη τὸ περὶ ῥυθμούς, μὴ ποικίλους αὐτοὺς διώκειν μηδὲ παντοδαπὰς βάσεις, ἀλλὰ βίου ῥυθμοὺς ἰδεῖν κοσμίου τε καὶ ἀνδρείου τίνες εἰσίν· οὓς ἰδόντα τὸν πόδα τῷ τοῦ τοιούτου λόγῳ ἀναγκάζειν ἕπεσθαι καὶ τὸ μέλος, ἀλλὰ μὴ λόγον ποδί τε καὶ μέλει.
400a. What those rhythms would be, it is for you to tell us as you did the musical modes.” “Nay, in faith,” he said, “I cannot tell. For that there are some three forms from which the feet are combined, just as there are four in the notes of the voice whence come all harmonies, is a thing that I have observed and could tell. But which are imitations of which sort of life, I am unable to say.”
400a. οἵτινες δʼ ἂν εἶεν οὗτοι οἱ ῥυθμοί, σὸν ἔργον, ὥσπερ τὰς ἁρμονίας, φράσαι. ἀλλὰ μὰ Δίʼ, ἔφη, οὐκ ἔχω λέγειν. ὅτι μὲν γὰρ τρίʼ ἄττα ἐστὶν εἴδη ἐξ ὧν αἱ βάσεις πλέκονται, ὥσπερ ἐν τοῖς φθόγγοις τέτταρα, ὅθεν αἱ πᾶσαι ἁρμονίαι, τεθεαμένος ἂν εἴποιμι· ποῖα δὲ ὁποίου βίου μιμήματα, λέγειν οὐκ ἔχω.
400b. “Well,” said I, “on this point we will take counsel with Damon, too, as to which are the feet appropriate to illiberality, and insolence or madness or other evils, and what rhythms we must leave for their opposites; and I believe I have heard him obscurely speaking of a foot that he called the enoplios, a composite foot, and a dactyl and an heroic foot, which he arranged, I know not how, to be equal up and down in the interchange of long and short, and unless I am mistaken he used the term iambic, and there was another foot that he called the trochaic, and he added the quantities long and short.
400b. ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μέν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ μετὰ Δάμωνος βουλευσόμεθα, τίνες τε ἀνελευθερίας καὶ ὕβρεως ἢ μανίας καὶ ἄλλης κακίας πρέπουσαι βάσεις, καὶ τίνας τοῖς ἐναντίοις λειπτέον ῥυθμούς· οἶμαι δέ με ἀκηκοέναι οὐ σαφῶς ἐνόπλιόν τέ τινα ὀνομάζοντος αὐτοῦ σύνθετον καὶ δάκτυλον καὶ ἡρῷόν γε, οὐκ οἶδα ὅπως διακοσμοῦντος καὶ ἴσον ἄνω καὶ κάτω τιθέντος, εἰς βραχύ τε καὶ μακρὸν γιγνόμενον, καί, ὡς ἐγὼ οἶμαι, ἴαμβον καί τινʼ ἄλλον τροχαῖον ὠνόμαζε, μήκη δὲ καὶ βραχύτητας προσῆπτε.
400c. And in some of these, I believe, he censured and commended the tempo of the foot no less than the rhythm itself, or else some combination of the two; I can’t say. But, as I said, let this matter be postponed for Damon’s consideration. For to determine the truth of these would require no little discourse. Do you think otherwise?” “No, by heaven, I do not.” “But this you are able to determine—that seemliness and unseemliness are attendant upon the good rhythm and the bad.” “Of course.” “And, further, that good rhythm and bad rhythm accompany, the one fair diction, assimilating itself thereto, and the other the opposite, and so of the apt and the unapt, if, as we were just now saying, the rhythm and harmony follow the words and not the words these.”
400c. καὶ τούτων τισὶν οἶμαι τὰς ἀγωγὰς τοῦ ποδὸς αὐτὸν οὐχ ἧττον ψέγειν τε καὶ ἐπαινεῖν ἢ τοὺς ῥυθμοὺς αὐτούς—ἤτοι συναμφότερόν τι· οὐ γὰρ ἔχω λέγειν —ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μέν, ὥσπερ εἶπον, εἰς Δάμωνα ἀναβεβλήσθω· διελέσθαι γὰρ οὐ σμικροῦ λόγου. ἢ σὺ οἴει; μὰ Δίʼ, οὐκ ἔγωγε. ἀλλὰ τόδε γε, ὅτι τὸ τῆς εὐσχημοσύνης τε καὶ ἀσχημοσύνης τῷ εὐρύθμῳ τε καὶ ἀρρύθμῳ ἀκολουθεῖ, δύνασαι διελέσθαι; πῶς δʼ οὔ;
400d. “They certainly must follow the speech,” he said. “And what of the manner of the diction, and the speech?” said I. “Do they not follow and conform to the disposition of the soul?” “Of course.” “And all the rest to the diction?” “Yes.” “Good speech, then, good accord, and good grace, and good rhythm wait upon good disposition, not that weakness of head which we euphemistically style goodness of heart, but the truly good and fair disposition of the character and the mind.”
400d. ἀλλὰ μὴν τὸ εὔρυθμόν γε καὶ τὸ ἄρρυθμον τὸ μὲν τῇ καλῇ λέξει ἕπεται ὁμοιούμενον, τὸ δὲ τῇ ἐναντίᾳ, καὶ τὸ εὐάρμοστον καὶ ἀνάρμοστον ὡσαύτως, εἴπερ ῥυθμός γε καὶ ἁρμονία λόγῳ, ὥσπερ ἄρτι ἐλέγετο, ἀλλὰ μὴ λόγος τούτοις. ἀλλὰ μήν, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ταῦτά γε λόγῳ ἀκολουθητέον. τί δʼ ὁ τρόπος τῆς λέξεως, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, καὶ ὁ λόγος; οὐ τῷ τῆς ψυχῆς ἤθει ἕπεται; πῶς γὰρ οὔ; τῇ δὲ λέξει τὰ ἄλλα; ναί. εὐλογία ἄρα καὶ εὐαρμοστία καὶ εὐσχημοσύνη καὶ εὐρυθμία εὐηθείᾳ ἀκολουθεῖ, οὐχ ἣν ἄνοιαν οὖσαν ὑποκοριζόμενοι καλοῦμεν [ὡς εὐήθειαν], ἀλλὰ τὴν ὡς ἀληθῶς εὖ τε καὶ καλῶς τὸ ἦθος κατεσκευασμένην διάνοιαν.
400e. “By all means,” he said. “And must not our youth pursue these everywhere if they are to do what it is truly theirs to do?” “They must indeed.” “And there is surely much of these qualities in painting and in all similar craftsmanship —weaving is full of them and embroidery and architecture and likewise the manufacture of household furnishings and thereto the natural bodies of animals and plants as well.
400e. παντάπασι μὲν οὖν, ἔφη. ἆρʼ οὖν οὐ πανταχοῦ ταῦτα διωκτέα τοῖς νέοις, εἰ μέλλουσι τὸ αὑτῶν πράττειν; διωκτέα μὲν οὖν.
401a. For in all these there is grace or gracelessness. And gracelessness and evil rhythm and disharmony are akin to evil speaking and the evil temper but the opposites are the symbols and the kin of the opposites, the sober and good disposition.” “Entirely so,” he said.
401a. ἔστιν δέ γέ που πλήρης μὲν γραφικὴ αὐτῶν καὶ πᾶσα ἡ τοιαύτη δημιουργία, πλήρης δὲ ὑφαντικὴ καὶ ποικιλία καὶ οἰκοδομία καὶ πᾶσα αὖ ἡ τῶν ἄλλων σκευῶν ἐργασία, ἔτι δὲ ἡ τῶν σωμάτων φύσις καὶ ἡ τῶν ἄλλων φυτῶν· ἐν πᾶσι γὰρ τούτοις ἔνεστιν εὐσχημοσύνη ἢ ἀσχημοσύνη. καὶ ἡ μὲν ἀσχημοσύνη καὶ ἀρρυθμία καὶ ἀναρμοστία κακολογίας καὶ κακοηθείας ἀδελφά, τὰ δʼ ἐναντία τοῦ ἐναντίου, σώφρονός τε καὶ ἀγαθοῦ ἤθους, ἀδελφά τε καὶ μιμήματα. παντελῶς μὲν οὖν, ἔφη.
401b–c. “Is it, then, only the poets that we must supervise and compel to embody in their poems the semblance of the good character or else not write poetry among us, or must we keep watch over the other craftsmen, and forbid them to represent the evil disposition, the licentious, the illiberal, the graceless, either in the likeness of living creatures or in buildings or in any other product of their art, on penalty, if unable to obey, of being forbidden to practise their art among us, that our guardians may not be bred among symbols of evil, as it were in a pasturage of poisonous herbs, lest grazing freely and cropping from many such day by day they little by little and all unawares accumulate and build up a huge mass of evil in their own souls. But we must look for those craftsmen who by the happy gift of nature are capable of following the trail of true beauty and grace, that our young men, dwelling as it were in a salubrious region, may receive benefit from all things about them, whence the influence that emanates from works of beauty may waft itself to eye or ear like a breeze that brings from wholesome places health, and so from earliest childhood insensibly guide them to likeness, to friendship, to harmony with beautiful reason.”
401b–c. ἆρʼ οὖν τοῖς ποιηταῖς ἡμῖν μόνον ἐπιστατητέον καὶ προσαναγκαστέον τὴν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ εἰκόνα ἤθους ἐμποιεῖν τοῖς ποιήμασιν ἢ μὴ παρʼ ἡμῖν ποιεῖν, ἢ καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις δημιουργοῖς ἐπιστατητέον καὶ διακωλυτέον τὸ κακόηθες τοῦτο καὶ ἀκόλαστον καὶ ἀνελεύθερον καὶ ἄσχημον μήτε ἐν εἰκόσι ζῴων μήτε ἐν οἰκοδομήμασι μήτε ἐν ἄλλῳ μηδενὶ δημιουργουμένῳ ἐμποιεῖν, ἢ ὁ μὴ οἷός τε ὢν οὐκ ἐατέος παρʼ ἡμῖν δημιουργεῖν, ἵνα μὴ ἐν κακίας εἰκόσι τρεφόμενοι ἡμῖν οἱ φύλακες ὥσπερ ἐν κακῇ βοτάνῃ, πολλὰ ἑκάστης ἡμέρας κατὰ σμικρὸν ἀπὸ πολλῶν δρεπόμενοί τε καὶ νεμόμενοι, ἕν τι συνιστάντες λανθάνωσιν κακὸν μέγα ἐν τῇ αὑτῶν ψυχῇ, ἀλλʼ ἐκείνους ζητητέον τοὺς δημιουργοὺς τοὺς εὐφυῶς δυναμένους ἰχνεύειν τὴν τοῦ καλοῦ τε καὶ εὐσχήμονος φύσιν, ἵνα ὥσπερ ἐν ὑγιεινῷ τόπῳ οἰκοῦντες οἱ νέοι ἀπὸ παντὸς ὠφελῶνται, ὁπόθεν ἂν αὐτοῖς ἀπὸ τῶν καλῶν ἔργων ἢ πρὸς ὄψιν ἢ πρὸς ἀκοήν τι προσβάλῃ, ὥσπερ αὔρα φέρουσα ἀπὸ
401d. “Yes,” he said, “that would be far the best education for them.” “And is it not for this reason, Glaucon,” said I, “that education in music is most sovereign, because more than anything else rhythm and harmony find their way to the inmost soul and take strongest hold upon it, bringing with them and imparting grace, if one is rightly trained, and otherwise the contrary?”
401d. χρηστῶν τόπων ὑγίειαν, καὶ εὐθὺς ἐκ παίδων λανθάνῃ εἰς ὁμοιότητά τε καὶ φιλίαν καὶ συμφωνίαν τῷ καλῷ λόγῳ ἄγουσα; πολὺ γὰρ ἄν, ἔφη, κάλλιστα οὕτω τραφεῖεν. ἆρʼ οὖν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Γλαύκων, τούτων ἕνεκα κυριωτάτη ἐν μουσικῇ τροφή, ὅτι μάλιστα καταδύεται εἰς τὸ ἐντὸς τῆς ψυχῆς ὅ τε ῥυθμὸς καὶ ἁρμονία, καὶ ἐρρωμενέστατα ἅπτεται αὐτῆς φέροντα τὴν εὐσχημοσύνην, καὶ ποιεῖ εὐσχήμονα, ἐάν τις ὀρθῶς τραφῇ, εἰ δὲ μή, τοὐναντίον;
401e. “And further, because omissions and the failure of beauty in things badly made or grown would be most quickly perceived by one who was properly educated in music, and so, feeling distaste rightly, he would praise beautiful things and take delight in them and receive them into his soul to foster its growth and become himself beautiful and good.
401e. καὶ ὅτι αὖ τῶν παραλειπομένων καὶ μὴ καλῶς δημιουργηθέντων ἢ μὴ καλῶς φύντων ὀξύτατʼ ἂν αἰσθάνοιτο ὁ ἐκεῖ τραφεὶς ὡς ἔδει, καὶ ὀρθῶς δὴ δυσχεραίνων τὰ μὲν καλὰ ἐπαινοῖ καὶ χαίρων καὶ καταδεχόμενος εἰς τὴν ψυχὴν τρέφοιτʼ ἂν ἀπʼ αὐτῶν καὶ γίγνοιτο καλός τε κἀγαθός, τὰ δʼ αἰσχρὰ ψέγοι τʼ ἂν ὀρθῶς καὶ μισοῖ ἔτι νέος ὤν, πρὶν λόγον δυνατὸς εἶναι λαβεῖν, ἐλθόντος δὲ τοῦ λόγου ἀσπάζοιτʼ ἂν αὐτὸν γνωρίζων διʼ οἰκειότητα μάλιστα ὁ οὕτω τραφείς;