9.14. When someone asked him what seemed to him the best pursuit for a man, he answered: Doing well. Questioned further, whether he thought good luck a pursuit, he said: On the contrary, I think luck and doing are opposite poles. To hit on something right by luck without search I call good luck, to do something well after study and practice I call doing well; and those who pursue this seem to me to do well.
9.14. ἐρομένου δέ τινος αὐτὸν τί δοκοίη αὐτῷ κράτιστον ἀνδρὶ ἐπιτήδευμα εἶναι, ἀπεκρίνατο· εὐπραξία. ἐρομένου δὲ πάλιν εἰ καὶ τὴν εὐτυχίαν ἐπιτήδευμα νομίζοι εἶναι, πᾶν μὲν οὖν τοὐναντίον ἔγωγʼ, ἔφη, τύχην καὶ πρᾶξιν ἡγοῦμαι· τὸ μὲν γὰρ μὴ ζητοῦντα ἐπιτυχεῖν τινι τῶν δεόντων εὐτυχίαν οἶμαι εἶναι, τὸ δὲ μαθόντα τε καὶ μελετήσαντά τι εὖ ποιεῖν εὐπραξίαν νομίζω, καὶ οἱ τοῦτο ἐπιτηδεύοντες δοκοῦσί μοι εὖ πράττειν.
9.15. And the best men and dearest to the gods, he added, are those who do their work well; if it is farming, as good farmers; if medicine, as good doctors; if politics, as good politicians. He who does nothing well is neither useful in any way nor dear to the gods.
9.15. καὶ ἀρίστους δὲ καὶ θεοφιλεστάτους ἔφη εἶναι ἐν μὲν γεωργίᾳ τοὺς τὰ γεωργικὰ εὖ πράττοντας, ἐν δʼ ἰατρείᾳ τοὺς τὰ ἰατρικά, ἐν δὲ πολιτείᾳ τοὺς τὰ πολιτικά· τὸν δὲ μηδὲν εὖ πράττοντα οὔτε χρήσιμον οὐδὲν ἔφη εἶναι οὔτε θεοφιλῆ.
10.1. Then again, whenever he talked with artists who followed their art as a business, he was as useful to them as to others. Thus, on entering the house of Parrhasius the painter one day, he asked in the course of a conversation with him: Is painting a representation of things seen, Parrhasius? Anyhow, you painters with your colours represent and reproduce figures high and low, in light and in shadow, hard and soft, rough and smooth, young and old. True.
10.1. ἀλλὰ μὴν καὶ εἴ ποτε τῶν τὰς τέχνας ἐχόντων καὶ ἐργασίας ἕνεκα χρωμένων αὐταῖς διαλέγοιτό τινι, καὶ τούτοις ὠφέλιμος ἦν. εἰσελθὼν μὲν γάρ ποτε πρὸς Παρράσιον τὸν ζωγράφον καὶ διαλεγόμενος αὐτῷ, ἆρα, ἔφη, ὦ Παρράσιε, γραφική ἐστιν εἰκασία τῶν ὁρωμένων; τὰ γοῦν κοῖλα καὶ τὰ ὑψηλὰ καὶ τὰ σκοτεινὰ καὶ τὰ φωτεινὰ καὶ τὰ σκληρὰ καὶ τὰ μαλακὰ καὶ τὰ τραχέα καὶ τὰ λεῖα καὶ τὰ νέα καὶ τὰ παλαιὰ σώματα διὰ τῶν χρωμάτων ἀπεικάζοντες ἐκμιμεῖσθε.
10.2. And further, when you copy types of beauty, it is so difficult to find a perfect model that you combine the most beautiful details of several, and thus contrive to make the whole figure look beautiful.
10.2. ἀληθῆ λέγεις, ἔφη. καὶ μὴν τά γε καλὰ εἴδη ἀφομοιοῦντες, ἐπειδὴ οὐ ῥᾴδιον ἑνὶ ἀνθρώπῳ περιτυχεῖν ἄμεμπτα πάντα ἔχοντι, ἐκ πολλῶν συνάγοντες τὰ ἐξ ἑκάστου κάλλιστα οὕτως ὅλα τὰ σώματα καλὰ ποιεῖτε φαίνεσθαι.
10.3. Yes, we do! Well now, do you also reproduce the character of the soul, the character that is in the highest degree captivating, delightful, friendly, fascinating, lovable? Or is it impossible to imitate that? Oh no, Socrates; for how could one imitate that which has neither shape nor colour nor any of the qualities you mentioned just now, and is not even visible?
10.3. ποιοῦμεν γάρ, ἔφη, οὕτως. τί γάρ; ἔφη, τὸ πιθανώτατον καὶ ἥδιστον καὶ φιλικώτατον καὶ ποθεινότατον καὶ ἐρασμιώτατον ἀπομιμεῖσθε τῆς ψυχῆς ἦθος; ἢ οὐδὲ μιμητόν ἐστι τοῦτο; πῶς γὰρ ἄν, ἔφη, μιμητὸν εἴη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὃ μήτε συμμετρίαν μήτε χρῶμα μήτε ὧν σὺ εἶπας ἄρτι μηδὲν ἔχει μηδὲ ὅλως ὁρατόν ἐστιν;
10.4. Do human beings commonly express the feelings of sympathy and aversion by their looks? I think so. Then cannot thus much be imitated in the eyes? Undoubtedly. Do you think that the joys and sorrows of their friends produce the same expression on men’s faces, whether they really care or not? Oh no, of course not: they look radiant at their joys, downcast at their sorrows. Then is it possible to represent these looks too? Undoubtedly.
10.4. ἆρʼ οὖν, ἔφη, γίγνεται ἐν ἀνθρώπῳ τό τε φιλοφρόνως καὶ τὸ ἐχθρῶς βλέπειν πρός τινας; ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν τοῦτό γε μιμητὸν ἐν τοῖς ὄμμασι; καὶ μάλα, ἔφη. ἐπὶ δὲ τοῖς τῶν φίλων ἀγαθοῖς καὶ τοῖς κακοῖς ὁμοίως σοι δοκοῦσιν ἔχειν τὰ πρόσωπα οἵ τε φροντίζοντες καὶ οἱ μή; μὰ Δίʼ οὐ δῆτα, ἔφη· ἐπὶ μὲν γὰρ τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς φαιδροί, ἐπὶ δὲ τοῖς κακοῖς σκυθρωποὶ γίγνονται. οὐκοῦν, ἔφη, καὶ ταῦτα δυνατὸν ἀπεικάζειν;
10.5. Moreover, nobility and dignity, self-abasement and servility, prudence and understanding, insolence and vulgarity, are reflected in the face and in the attitudes of the body whether still or in motion. True. Then these, too, can be imitated, can they not? Undoubtedly. Now which do you think the more pleasing sight, one whose features and bearing reflect a beautiful and good and lovable character, or one who is the embodiment of what is ugly and depraved and hateful? No doubt there is a great difference, Socrates.
10.5. καὶ μάλα, ἔφη. ἀλλὰ μὴν καὶ τὸ μεγαλοπρεπές τε καὶ ἐλευθέριον καὶ τὸ ταπεινόν τε καὶ ἀνελεύθερον καὶ τὸ σωφρονικόν τε καὶ φρόνιμον καὶ τὸ ὑβριστικόν τε καὶ ἀπειρόκαλον καὶ διὰ τοῦ προσώπου καὶ διὰ τῶν σχημάτων καὶ ἑστώτων καὶ κινουμένων ἀνθρώπων διαφαίνει. ἀληθῆ λέγεις, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν καὶ ταῦτα μιμητά; καὶ μάλα, ἔφη. πότερον οὖν, ἔφη, νομίζεις ἥδιον ὁρᾶν τοὺς ἀνθρώπους διʼ ὧν τὰ καλά τε κἀγαθὰ καὶ ἀγαπητὰ ἤθη φαίνεται ἢ διʼ ὧν τὰ αἰσχρά τε καὶ πονηρὰ καὶ μισητά; πολὺ νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, διαφέρει, ὦ Σώκρατες.
10.6. On another occasion he visited Cleiton the sculptor, and while conversing with him said: Cleiton, that your statues of runners, wrestlers, boxers and fighters are beautiful I see and know. But how do you produce in them that illusion of life which is their most alluring charm to the beholder?
10.6. πρὸς δὲ Κλείτωνα τὸν ἀνδριαντοποιὸν εἰσελθών ποτε καὶ διαλεγόμενος αὐτῷ, ὅτι μέν, ἔφη, ὦ Κλείτων, καλοὶ οὓς ποιεῖς δρομέας τε καὶ παλαιστὰς καὶ πύκτας καὶ παγκρατιαστάς, ὁρῶ τε καὶ οἶδα· ὃ δὲ μάλιστα ψυχαγωγεῖ διὰ τῆς ὄψεως τοὺς ἀνθρώπους, τὸ ζωτικὸν φαίνεσθαι, πῶς τοῦτο ἐνεργάζῃ τοῖς ἀνδριᾶσιν;
10.7. As Cleiton was puzzled and did not reply at once, Is it, he added, by faithfully representing the form of living beings that you make your statues look as if they lived? Undoubtedly. Then is it not by accurately representing the different parts of the body as they are affected by the pose — the flesh wrinkled or tense, the limbs compressed or outstretched, the muscles taut or loose — that you make them look more like real members and more convincing? Yes, certainly.
10.7. ἐπεὶ δὲ ἀπορῶν ὁ Κλείτων οὐ ταχὺ ἀπεκρίνατο, ἆρʼ, ἔφη, τοῖς τῶν ζώντων εἴδεσιν ἀπεικάζων τὸ ἔργον ζωτικωτέρους ποιεῖς φαίνεσθαι τοὺς ἀνδριάντας; καὶ μάλα, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν τά τε ὑπὸ τῶν σχημάτων κατασπώμενα καὶ τἀνασπώμενα ἐν τοῖς σώμασι καὶ τὰ συμπιεζόμενα καὶ τὰ διελκόμενα καὶ τὰ ἐντεινόμενα καὶ τὰ ἀνιέμενα ἀπεικάζων ὁμοιότερά τε τοῖς ἀληθινοῖς καὶ πιθανώτερα ποιεῖς φαίνεσθαι;
10.8. Does not the exact imitation of the feelings that affect bodies in action also produce a sense of satisfaction in the spectator? Oh yes, presumably. Then must not the threatening look in the eyes of fighters be accurately represented, and the triumphant expression on the face of conquerors be imitated? Most certainly. It follows, then, that the sculptor must represent in his figures the activities of the soul.
10.8. πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη. τὸ δὲ καὶ τὰ πάθη τῶν ποιούντων τι σωμάτων ἀπομιμεῖσθαι οὐ ποιεῖ τινα τέρψιν τοῖς θεωμένοις; εἰκὸς γοῦν, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν καὶ τῶν μὲν μαχομένων ἀπειλητικὰ τὰ ὄμματα ἀπεικαστέον, τῶν δὲ νενικηκότων εὐφραινομένων ἡ ὄψις μιμητέα; σφόδρα γʼ, ἔφη. δεῖ ἄρα, ἔφη, τὸν ἀνδριαντοποιὸν τὰ τῆς ψυχῆς ἔργα τῷ εἴδει προσεικάζειν.
10.9. On visiting Pistias the armourer, who showed him some well-made breastplates, Socrates exclaimed: Upon my word, Pistias, it’s a beautiful invention, for the breastplate covers the parts that need protection without impeding the use of the hands.
10.9. πρὸς δὲ Πιστίαν τὸν θωρακοποιὸν εἰσελθών, ἐπιδείξαντος αὐτοῦ τῷ Σωκράτει θώρακας εὖ εἰργασμένους, νὴ τὴν Ἥραν, ἔφη, καλόν γε, ὦ Πιστία, τὸ εὕρημα τὸ τὰ μὲν δεόμενα σκέπης τοῦ ἀνθρώπου σκεπάζειν τὸν θώρακα, ταῖς δὲ χερσὶ μὴ κωλύειν χρῆσθαι.
10.10. But tell me, Pistias, he added, why do you charge more for your breastplates than any other maker, though they are no stronger and cost no more to make?>Because the proportions of mine are better, Socrates. And how do you show their proportions when you ask a higher price — by weight or measure? For I presume you don’t make them all of the same weight or the same size, that is, if you make them to fit. Fit? Why, of course! a breastplate is of no use without that!
10.10. ἀτάρ, ἔφη, λέξον μοι, ὦ Πιστία, διὰ τί οὔτʼ ἰσχυροτέρους οὔτε πολυτελεστέρους τῶν ἄλλων ποιῶν τοὺς θώρακας πλείονος πωλεῖς; ὅτι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, εὐρυθμοτέρους ποιῶ. τὸν δὲ ῥυθμόν, ἔφη, πότερα μέτρῳ ἢ σταθμῷ ἀποδεικνύων πλείονος τιμᾷ; οὐ γὰρ δὴ ἴσους γε πάντας οὐδὲ ὁμοίους οἶμαί σε ποιεῖν, εἴ γε ἁρμόττοντας ποιεῖς. ἀλλὰ νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, ποιῶ· οὐδὲν γὰρ ὄφελός ἐστι θώρακος ἄνευ τούτου.
10.11. Then are not some human bodies well, others ill proportioned? Certainly. Then if a breastplate is to fit an ill-proportioned body, how do you make it well-proportioned? By making it fit; for if it is a good fit it is well-proportioned.
10.11. οὐκοῦν, ἔφη, σώματά γε ἀνθρώπων τὰ μὲν εὔρυθμά ἐστι, τὰ δὲ ἄρρυθμα; πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη. πῶς οὖν, ἔφη, τῷ ἀρρύθμῳ σώματι ἁρμόττοντα τὸν θώρακα εὔρυθμον ποιεῖς; ὥσπερ καὶ ἁρμόττοντα, ἔφη·
10.12. Apparently you mean well-proportioned not absolutely, but in relation to the wearer, as you might call a shield well-proportioned for the man whom it fits, or a military cape — and this seems to apply to everything according to you.
10.12. ὁ ἁρμόττων γάρ ἐστιν εὔρυθμος. δοκεῖς μοι, ἔφη ὁ Σωκράτης, τὸ εὔρυθμον οὐ καθʼ ἑαυτὸ λέγειν, ἀλλὰ πρὸς τὸν χρώμενον, ὥσπερ ἂν εἰ φαίης ἀσπίδα, ᾧ ἂν ἁρμόττῃ, τούτῳ εὔρυθμον εἶναι, καὶ χλαμύδα, καὶ τἆλλα ὡσαύτως ἔοικεν ἔχειν τῷ σῷ λόγῳ.
10.13. And perhaps there is another important advantage in a good fit. Tell it me, if you know, Socrates. The good fit is less heavy to wear than the misfit, though both are of the same weight. For the misfit, hanging entirely from the shoulders, or pressing on some other part of the body, proves uncomfortable and irksome; but the good fit, with its weight distributed over the collar-bone and shoulder-blades, the shoulders, chest, back and belly, may almost be called an accessory rather than an encumbrance.
10.13. ἴσως δὲ καὶ ἄλλο τι οὐ μικρὸν ἀγαθὸν τῷ ἁρμόττειν πρόσεστι. δίδαξον, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, εἴ τι ἔχεις. ἧττον, ἔφη, τῷ βάρει πιέζουσιν οἱ ἁρμόττοντες τῶν ἀναρμόστων τὸν αὐτὸν σταθμὸν ἔχοντες. οἱ μὲν γὰρ ἀνάρμοστοι ἢ ὅλοι ἐκ τῶν ὤμων κρεμάμενοι ἢ καὶ ἄλλο τι τοῦ σώματος σφόδρα πιέζοντες δύσφοροι καὶ χαλεποὶ γίγνονται· οἱ δὲ ἁρμόττοντες, διειλημμένοι τὸ βάρος τὸ μὲν ὑπὸ τῶν κλειδῶν καὶ ἐπωμίδων, τὸ δʼ ὑπὸ τῶν ὤμων, τὸ δὲ ὑπὸ τοῦ στήθους, τὸ δὲ ὑπὸ τοῦ νώτου, τὸ δὲ ὑπὸ τῆς γαστρός, ὀλίγου δεῖν οὐ φορήματι, ἀλλὰ προσθήματι ἐοίκασιν.
10.14. The advantage you speak of is the very one which I think makes my work worth a big price. Some, however, prefer to buy the ornamented and the gold-plated breastplates. Still, if the consequence is that they buy misfits, it seems to me they buy ornamented and gold-plated trash.
10.14. εἴρηκας, ἔφη, αὐτὸ διʼ ὅπερ ἔγωγε τὰ ἐμὰ ἔργα πλείστου ἄξια νομίζω εἶναι. ἔνιοι μέντοι τοὺς ποικίλους καὶ τοὺς ἐπιχρύσους θώρακας μᾶλλον ὠνοῦνται. ἀλλὰ μήν, ἔφη, εἴ γε διὰ ταῦτα μὴ ἁρμόττοντας ὠνοῦνται, κακὸν ἔμοιγε δοκοῦσι ποικίλον τε καὶ ἐπίχρυσον ὠνεῖσθαι.
10.15. However, as the body is not rigid, but now bent, now straight, how can tight breastplates fit? They can’t. You mean that the good fits are not the tight ones, but those that don’t chafe the wearer? That is your own meaning, Socrates, and you have hit the right nail on the head.
10.15. ἀτάρ, ἔφη, τοῦ σώματος μὴ μένοντος, ἀλλὰ τοτὲ μὲν κυρτουμένου, τοτὲ δὲ ὀρθουμένου, πῶς ἂν ἀκριβεῖς θώρακες ἁρμόττοιεν; οὐδαμῶς, ἔφη. λέγεις, ἔφη, ἁρμόττειν οὐ τοὺς ἀκριβεῖς, ἀλλὰ τοὺς μὴ λυποῦντας ἐν τῇ χρείᾳ. αὐτός, ἔφη, τοῦτο λέγεις, ὦ Σώκρατες, καὶ πάνυ ὀρθῶς ἀποδέχῃ.
11.1. At one time there was in Athens a beautiful woman named Theodoté, who was ready to keep company with anyone who pleased her. One of the bystanders mentioned her name, declaring that words failed him to describe the lady’s beauty, and adding that artists visited her to paint her portrait, and she showed them as much as decency allowed. We had better go and see her, cried Socrates; of course what beggars description can’t very well be learned by hearsay.
11.1. γυναικὸς δέ ποτε οὔσης ἐν τῇ πόλει καλῆς, ᾗ ὄνομα ἦν Θεοδότη, καὶ οἵας συνεῖναι τῷ πείθοντι, μνησθέντος αὐτῆς τῶν παρόντων τινὸς καὶ εἰπόντος ὅτι κρεῖττον εἴη λόγου τὸ κάλλος τῆς γυναικός, καὶ ζωγράφους φήσαντος εἰσιέναι πρὸς αὐτὴν ἀπεικασομένους, οἷς ἐκείνην ἐπιδεικνύειν ἑαυτῆς ὅσα καλῶς ἔχοι, ἰτέον ἂν εἴη θεασομένους, ἔφη ὁ Σωκράτης· οὐ γὰρ δὴ ἀκούσασί γε τὸ λόγου κρεῖττον ἔστι καταμαθεῖν. καὶ ὁ διηγησάμενος, οὐκ ἂν φθάνοιτʼ, ἔφη, ἀκολουθοῦντες.
11.2. Come with me at once, returned his informant. So off they went to Theodoté’s house, where they found her posing before a painter, and looked on. When the painter had finished, Socrates said: My friends, ought we to be more grateful to Theodoté for showing us her beauty, or she to us for looking at it? Does the obligation rest with her, if she profits more by showing it, but with us, if we profit more by looking?
11.2. οὕτω μὲν δὴ πορευθέντες πρὸς τὴν Θεοδότην καὶ καταλαβόντες ζωγράφῳ τινὶ παρεστηκυῖαν ἐθεάσαντο. παυσαμένου δὲ τοῦ ζωγράφου, ὦ ἄνδρες, ἔφη ὁ Σωκράτης, πότερον ἡμᾶς δεῖ μᾶλλον Θεοδότῃ χάριν ἔχειν, ὅτι ἡμῖν τὸ κάλλος ἑαυτῆς ἐπέδειξεν, ἢ ταύτην ἡμῖν, ὅτι ἐθεασάμεθα; ἆρʼ εἰ μὲν ταύτῃ ὠφελιμωτέρα ἐστὶν ἡ ἐπίδειξις, ταύτην ἡμῖν χάριν ἑκτέον, εἰ δὲ ἡμῖν ἡ θέα, ἡμᾶς ταύτῃ;
11.3. When someone answered that this was a fair way of putting it, Well now, he went on, she already has our praise to her credit, and when we spread the news, she will profit yet more; whereas we already long to touch what we have seen, and we shall go away excited and shall miss her when we are gone. The natural consequence is that we become her adorers, she the adored. Then, if that is so, exclaimed Theodoté, of course I ought to be grateful to you for looking.
11.3. εἰπόντος δέ τινος ὅτι δίκαια λέγοι, οὐκοῦν, ἔφη, αὕτη μὲν ἤδη τε παρʼ ἡμῶν ἔπαινον κερδαίνει καί, ἐπειδὰν εἰς πλείους διαγγείλωμεν, πλείω ὠφελήσεται· ἡμεῖς δὲ ἤδη τε ὧν ἐθεασάμεθα ἐπιθυμοῦμεν ἅψασθαι καὶ ἄπιμεν ὑποκνιζόμενοι καὶ ἀπελθόντες ποθήσομεν. ἐκ δὲ τούτων εἰκὸς ἡμᾶς μὲν θεραπεύειν, ταύτην δὲ θεραπεύεσθαι. καὶ ἡ Θεοδότη, νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, εἰ τοίνυν ταῦθʼ οὕτως ἔχει, ἐμὲ ἂν δέοι ὑμῖν τῆς θέας χάριν ἔχειν.
11.4. At this point Socrates noticed that she was sumptuously dressed, and that her mother at her side was wearing fine clothes and jewellery; and she had many pretty maids, who also were well cared for, and her house was lavishly furnished. Tell me, Theodoté, he said, have you a farm? Not I, she answered. Or a house, perhaps, that brings in money? No, nor a house. Some craftsmen, possibly? No, none. Then where do you get your supplies from? I live on the generosity of any friend I pick up.
11.4. ἐκ δὲ τούτου ὁ Σωκράτης ὁρῶν αὐτήν τε πολυτελῶς κεκοσμημένην καὶ μητέρα παροῦσαν αὐτῇ ἐν ἐσθῆτί τε καὶ θεραπείᾳ οὐ τῇ τυχούσῃ, καὶ θεραπαίνας πολλὰς καὶ εὐειδεῖς καὶ οὐδὲ ταύτας ἠμελημένως ἐχούσας, καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις τὴν οἰκίαν ἀφθόνως κατεσκευασμένην, εἰπέ μοι, ἔφη, ὦ Θεοδότη, ἔστι σοι ἀγρός; οὐκ ἔμοιγʼ, ἔφη. ἀλλʼ ἄρα οἰκία προσόδους ἔχουσα; οὐδὲ οἰκία, ἔφη. ἀλλὰ μὴ χειροτέχναι τινές; οὐδὲ χειροτέχναι, ἔφη. πόθεν οὖν, ἔφη, τὰ ἐπιτήδεια ἔχεις; ἐάν τις, ἔφη, φίλος μοι γενόμενος εὖ ποιεῖν ἐθέλῃ, οὗτός μοι βίος ἐστί.
11.5. A fine property, upon my word, Theodoté, and much better than abundance of sheep and goats and oxen. But, he went on, do you trust to luck, waiting for friends to settle on you like flies, or have you some contrivance of your own?
11.5. νὴ τὴν Ἥραν, ἔφη, ὦ Θεοδότη, καλόν γε τὸ κτῆμα καὶ πολλῷ κρεῖττον ⟨ἢ⟩ οἰῶν τε καὶ αἰγῶν καὶ βοῶν φίλων ἀγέλην κεκτῆσθαι. ἀτάρ, ἔφη, πότερον τῇ τύχῃ ἐπιτρέπεις, ἐάν τίς σοι φίλος ὥσπερ μυῖα πρόσπτηται, ἢ καὶ αὐτή τι μηχανᾷ;
11.6. How could I invent a contrivance for that? Much more conveniently, I assure you, than the spiders. For you know how they hunt for a living: they weave a thin web, I believe, and feed on anything that gets into it.
11.6. πῶς δʼ ἄν, ἔφη, ἐγὼ τούτου μηχανὴν εὕροιμι; πολὺ νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, προσηκόντως μᾶλλον ἢ αἱ φάλαγγες· οἶσθα γὰρ ὡς ἐκεῖναι θηρῶσι τὰ πρὸς τὸν βίον· ἀράχνια γὰρ δήπου λεπτὰ ὑφηνάμεναι, ὅ τι ἂν ἐνταῦθα ἐμπέσῃ, τούτῳ τροφῇ χρῶνται.
11.7. And do you advise me, then, to weave a trap of some sort? Of course not. Don’t suppose you are going to hunt friends, the noblest game in the world, by such crude methods. Don’t you notice that many tricks are employed even for hunting such a poor thing as the hare?
11.7. καὶ ἐμοὶ οὖν, ἔφη, συμβουλεύεις ὑφήνασθαί τι θήρατρον; οὐ γὰρ δὴ οὕτω γε ἀτέχνως οἴεσθαι χρὴ τὸ πλείστου ἄξιον ἄγρευμα, φίλους, θηράσειν. οὐχ ὁρᾷς ὅτι καὶ τὸ μικροῦ ἄξιον, τοὺς λαγῶς, θηρῶντες πολλὰ τεχνάζουσιν;
11.8. Since hares feed by night, hounds specially adapted for night work are provided to hunt them; and since they run away at daybreak, another pack of hounds is obtained for tracking them by the scent along the run from the feeding ground to the form; and since they are so nimble that once they are off they actually escape in the open, yet a third pack of speedy hounds is formed to catch them by hot pursuit; and as some escape even so, nets are set up in the tracks where they escape, that they may be driven into them and stopped dead.
11.8. ὅτι μὲν γὰρ τῆς νυκτὸς νέμονται, κύνας νυκτερευτικὰς πορισάμενοι, ταύταις αὐτοὺς θηρῶσιν· ὅτι δὲ μεθʼ ἡμέραν ἀποδιδράσκουσιν, ἄλλας κτῶνται κύνας, αἵτινες, ᾗ ἂν ἐκ τῆς νομῆς εἰς τὴν εὐνὴν ἀπέλθωσι, τῇ ὀσμῇ αἰσθανόμεναι εὑρίσκουσιν αὐτούς· ὅτι δὲ ποδώκεις εἰσὶν ὥστε καὶ ἐκ τοῦ φανεροῦ τρέχοντες ἀποφεύγειν, ἄλλας αὖ κύνας ταχείας παρασκευάζονται, ἵνα κατὰ πόδας ἁλίσκωνται· ὅτι δὲ καὶ ταύτας αὐτῶν τινες ἀποφεύγουσι, δίκτυα ἱστᾶσιν εἰς τὰς ἀτραπούς, ᾗ φεύγουσιν, ἵνʼ εἰς ταῦτα ἐμπίπτοντες συμποδίζωνται.
11.9. Then can I adapt this plan to the pursuit of friends? Of course you can, if for the hound you substitute an agent who will track and find rich men with an eye for beauty, and will then contrive to chase them into your nets.
11.9. τίνι οὖν, ἔφη, τοιούτῳ φίλους ἂν ἐγὼ θηρῴην; ἐὰν νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, ἀντὶ κυνὸς κτήσῃ, ὅστις σοι ἰχνεύων μὲν τοὺς φιλοκάλους καὶ πλουσίους εὑρήσει, εὑρὼν δὲ μηχανήσεται ὅπως ἐμβάλῃ αὐτοὺς εἰς τὰ σὰ δίκτυα.
11.10. Nets! What nets have I got? One, surely, that clips close enough — your body! And inside it you have a soul that teaches you what glance will please, what words delight, and tells you that your business is to give a warm welcome to an eager suitor, but to slam the door upon a coxcomb; yes, and when a friend has fallen sick, to show your anxiety by visiting him; and when he has had a stroke of good fortune, to congratulate him eagerly; and if he is eager in his suit, to put yourself at his service heart and soul. As for loving, you know how to do that, I am sure, both tenderly and truly; and that your friends give you satisfaction, you convince them, I know, not by words but by deeds. Upon my word, said Theodoté, I don’t contrive one of these things.
11.10. καὶ ποῖα, ἔφη, ἐγὼ δίκτυα ἔχω; ἓν μὲν δήπου, ἔφη, καὶ μάλα εὖ περιπλεκόμενον, τὸ σῶμα· ἐν δὲ τούτῳ ψυχήν, ᾗ καταμανθάνεις καὶ ὡς ἂν ἐμβλέπουσα χαρίζοιο καὶ ὅ τι ἂν λέγουσα εὐφραίνοις, καὶ ὅτι δεῖ τὸν μὲν ἐπιμελόμενον ἀσμένως ὑποδέχεσθαι, τὸν δὲ τρυφῶντα ἀποκλείειν, καὶ ἀρρωστήσαντός γε φίλου φροντιστικῶς ἐπισκέψασθαι καὶ καλόν τι πράξαντος σφόδρα συνησθῆναι καὶ τῷ σφόδρα σοῦ φροντίζοντι ὅλῃ τῇ ψυχῇ κεχαρίσθαι· φιλεῖν γε μὴν εὖ οἶδʼ ὅτι ἐπίστασαι οὐ μόνον μαλακῶς, ἀλλὰ καὶ εὐνοϊκῶς· καὶ ὅτι ἀρεστοί σοί εἰσιν οἱ φίλοι, οἶδʼ ὅτι οὐ λόγῳ ἀλλʼ ἔργῳ ἀναπείθεις. μὰ τὸν Δίʼ, ἔφη ἡ Θεοδότη, ἐγὼ τούτων οὐδὲν μηχανῶμαι.
11.11. Nevertheless, he continued, it is very important that your behaviour to a man should be both natural and correct. For assuredly you can neither catch a friend nor keep him by violence; it is kindness and sweetness that catch the creature and hold him fast. True, she said.
11.11. καὶ μήν, ἔφη, πολὺ διαφέρει τὸ κατὰ φύσιν τε καὶ ὀρθῶς ἀνθρώπῳ προσφέρεσθαι. καὶ γὰρ δὴ βίᾳ μὲν οὔτʼ ἂν ἕλοις οὔτε κατάσχοις φίλον, εὐεργεσίᾳ δὲ καὶ ἡδονῇ τὸ θηρίον τοῦτο ἁλώσιμόν τε καὶ παραμόνιμόν ἐστιν.
11.12. First, then, you must ask such favours of your suitors as they will grant without a moment’s hesitation; and next you must repay their favours in the same coin; for in this way they will prove most sincerely your friends, most constant in their affection and most generous.
11.12. ἀληθῆ λέγεις, ἔφη. δεῖ τοίνυν, ἔφη, πρῶτον μὲν τοὺς φροντίζοντάς σου τοιαῦτα ἀξιοῦν, οἷα ποιοῦσιν αὐτοῖς μικρότατα μελήσει, ἔπειτα δὲ αὐτὴν ἀμείβεσθαι χαριζομένην τὸν αὐτὸν τρόπον· οὕτω γὰρ ἂν μάλιστα φίλοι γίγνοιντο καὶ πλεῖστον χρόνον φιλοῖεν καὶ μέγιστα εὐεργετοῖεν.
11.13. And they will appreciate your favours most highly if you wait till they ask for them. The sweetest meats, you see, if served before they are wanted, seem sour, and to those who have had enough they are positively nauseating; but even poor fare is very welcome when offered to a hungry man.
11.13. χαρίζοιο δʼ ἂν μάλιστα, εἰ δεομένοις δωροῖο τὰ παρὰ σεαυτῆς· ὁρᾷς γὰρ ὅτι καὶ τῶν βρωμάτων τὰ ἥδιστα, ἐὰν μέν τις προσφέρῃ πρὶν ἐπιθυμεῖν, ἀηδῆ φαίνεται, κεκορεσμένοις δὲ καὶ βδελυγμίαν παρέχει, ἐὰν δέ τις προσφέρῃ λιμὸν ἐμποιήσας, κἂν φαυλότερα ᾖ, πάνυ ἡδέα φαίνεται.
11.14. And how can I make them hunger for my fare? Why, in the first place, you must not offer it to them when they have had enough, nor prompt them until they have thrown off the surfeit and are beginning to want more; then, when they feel the want, you must prompt them by behaving as a model of propriety, by a show of reluctance to yield, and by holding back until they are as keen as can be; for then the same gifts are much more to the recipient than when they are offered before they are desired.
11.14. πῶς οὖν ἄν, ἔφη, ἐγὼ λιμὸν ἐμποιεῖν τῶν παρʼ ἐμοὶ δυναίμην; εἰ νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, πρῶτον μὲν τοῖς κεκορεσμένοις μήτε προσφέροις μήτε ὑπομιμνῄσκοις, ἕως ἂν τῆς πλησμονῆς παυσάμενοι πάλιν δέωνται, ἔπειτα τοὺς δεομένους ὑπομιμνῄσκοις ὡς κοσμιωτάτῃ τε ὁμιλίᾳ καὶ τῷ ⟨μὴ⟩ φαίνεσθαι βουλομένη χαρίζεσθαι καὶ διαφεύγουσα, ἕως ἂν ὡς μάλιστα δεηθῶσι· τηνικαῦτα γὰρ πολὺ διαφέρει τὰ αὐτὰ δῶρα ἢ πρὶν ἐπιθυμῆσαι διδόναι.
11.15. Then, Socrates, exclaimed Theodoté, why don’t you become my partner in the pursuit of friends? By all means — if you persuade me. And how am I to persuade you? That you will find out and contrive for yourself, if you want my help. Come and see me often, then.
11.15. καὶ ἡ Θεοδότη, τί οὖν οὐ σύ μοι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἐγένου συνθηρατὴς τῶν φίλων; ἐάν γε νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, πείθῃς με σύ. πῶς οὖν ἄν, ἔφη, πείσαιμί σε; ζητήσεις, ἔφη, τοῦτο αὐτὴ καὶ μηχανήσει, ἐάν τί μου δέῃ.
11.16. Ah! said Socrates, making fun of his own leisurely habits, it’s not so easy for me to find time. For I have much business to occupy me, private and public; and I have the dear girls, who won’t leave me day or night; they are studying potions with me and spells.
11.16. εἴσιθι τοίνυν, ἔφη, θαμινά. καὶ ὁ Σωκράτης ἐπισκώπτων τὴν αὑτοῦ ἀπραγμοσύνην, ἀλλʼ, ὦ Θεοδότη, ἔφη, οὐ πάνυ μοι ῥᾴδιόν ἐστι σχολάσαι· καὶ γὰρ ἴδια πράγματα πολλὰ καὶ δημόσια παρέχει μοι ἀσχολίαν· εἰσὶ δὲ καὶ φίλαι μοι, αἳ οὔτε ἡμέρας οὔτε νυκτὸς ἀφʼ αὑτῶν ἐάσουσί με ἀπιέναι, φίλτρα τε μανθάνουσαι παρʼ ἐμοῦ καὶ ἐπῳδάς.
11.17. Indeed! do you understand these things too, Socrates? Why, what is the reason that master Apollodorus and Antisthenes never leave me, do you suppose? And why do Cebes and Simmias come to me from Thebes? I assure you these things don’t happen without the help of many potions and spells and magic wheels.
11.17. ἐπίστασαι γάρ, ἔφη, καὶ ταῦτα, ὦ Σώκρατες; ἀλλὰ διὰ τί οἴει, ἔφη, Ἀπολλόδωρόν τε τόνδε καὶ Ἀντισθένη οὐδέποτέ μου ἀπολείπεσθαι; διὰ τί δὲ καὶ Κέβητα καὶ Σιμίαν Θήβηθεν παραγίγνεσθαι; εὖ ἴσθι ὅτι ταῦτα οὐκ ἄνευ πολλῶν φίλτρων τε καὶ ἐπῳδῶν καὶ ἰύγγων ἐστί.
11.18. Do lend me your wheel, that I may turn it first to draw you. But of course I don’t want to be drawn to you: I want you to come to me. Oh, I’ll come: only mind you welcome me. Oh, you shall be welcome — unless there’s a dearer girl with me!
11.18. χρῆσον τοίνυν μοι, ἔφη, τὴν ἴυγγα, ἵνα ἐπὶ σοὶ πρῶτον ἕλκω αὐτήν. ἀλλὰ μὰ Δίʼ, ἔφη, οὐκ αὐτὸς ἕλκεσθαι πρὸς σὲ βούλομαι, ἀλλὰ σὲ πρὸς ἐμὲ πορεύεσθαι. ἀλλὰ πορεύσομαι, ἔφη· μόνον ὑποδέχου. ἀλλʼ ὑποδέξομαί σε, ἔφη, ἂν μή τις φιλωτέρα σου ἔνδον ᾖ.
12.1. On noticing that Epigenes, one of his companions, was in poor condition, for a young man, he said: You look as if you need exercise, Epigenes. Well, he replied, I’m not an athlete, Socrates. Just as much as the competitors entered for Olympia, he retorted. Or do you count the life and death struggle with their enemies, upon which, it may be, the Athenians will enter, but a small thing?
12.1. Ἐπιγένην δὲ τῶν συνόντων τινὰ νέον τε ὄντα καὶ τὸ σῶμα κακῶς ἔχοντα ἰδών, ὡς ἰδιωτικῶς, ἔφη, τὸ σῶμα ἔχεις, ὦ Ἐπίγενες. καὶ ὅς, ἰδιώτης γάρ, ἔφη, εἰμί, ὦ Σώκρατες. οὐδέν γε μᾶλλον, ἔφη, τῶν ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ μελλόντων ἀγωνίζεσθαι· ἢ δοκεῖ σοι μικρὸς εἶναι ὁ περὶ τῆς ψυχῆς πρὸς τοὺς πολεμίους ἀγών, ὃν Ἀθηναῖοι θήσουσιν, ὅταν τύχωσι;
12.2. Why, many, thanks to their bad condition, lose their life in the perils of war or save it disgracefully: many, just for this same cause, are taken prisoners, and then either pass the rest of their days, perhaps, in slavery of the hardest kind, or, after meeting with cruel sufferings and paying, sometimes, more than they have, live on, destitute and in misery. Many, again, by their bodily weakness earn infamy, being thought cowards.
12.2. καὶ μὴν οὐκ ὀλίγοι μὲν διὰ τὴν τοῦ σώματος καχεξίαν ἀποθνῄσκουσί τε ἐν τοῖς πολεμικοῖς κινδύνοις καὶ αἰσχρῶς σῴζονται· πολλοὶ δὲ διʼ αὐτὸ τοῦτο ζῶντές τε ἁλίσκονται καὶ ἁλόντες ἤτοι δουλεύουσι τὸν λοιπὸν βίον, ἐὰν οὕτω τύχωσι, τὴν χαλεπωτάτην δουλείαν ἢ εἰς τὰς ἀνάγκας τὰς ἀλγεινοτάτας ἐμπεσόντες καὶ ἐκτείσαντες ἐνίοτε πλείω τῶν ὑπαρχόντων αὐτοῖς τὸν λοιπὸν βίον ἐνδεεῖς τῶν ἀναγκαίων ὄντες καὶ κακοπαθοῦντες διαζῶσι· πολλοὶ δὲ δόξαν αἰσχρὰν κτῶνται διὰ τὴν τοῦ σώματος ἀδυναμίαν δοκοῦντες ἀποδειλιᾶν.
12.3. Or do you despise these, the rewards of bad condition, and think that you can easily endure such things? And yet I suppose that what has to be borne by anyone who takes care to keep his body in good condition is far lighter and far pleasanter than these things. Or is it that you think bad condition healthier and generally more serviceable than good, or do you despise the effects of good condition?
12.3. ἢ καταφρονεῖς τῶν ἐπιτιμίων τῆς καχεξίας τούτων, καὶ ῥᾳδίως ἂν οἴει φέρειν τὰ τοιαῦτα; καὶ μὴν οἶμαί γε πολλῷ ῥᾴω καὶ ἡδίω τούτων εἶναι ἃ δεῖ ὑπομένειν τὸν ἐπιμελόμενον τῆς τοῦ σώματος εὐεξίας. ἢ ὑγιεινότερόν τε καὶ εἰς τἆλλα χρησιμώτερον νομίζεις εἶναι τὴν καχεξίαν τῆς εὐεξίας, ἢ τῶν διὰ τὴν εὐεξίαν γιγνομένων καταφρονεῖς;
12.4. And yet the results of physical fitness are the direct opposite of those that follow from unfitness. The fit are healthy and strong; and many, as a consequence, save themselves decorously on the battle-field and escape all the dangers of war; many help friends and do good to their country and for this cause earn gratitude; get great glory and gain very high honours, and for this cause live henceforth a pleasanter and better life, and leave to their children better means of winning a livelihood.
12.4. καὶ μὴν πάντα γε τἀναντία συμβαίνει τοῖς εὖ τὰ σώματα ἔχουσιν ἢ τοῖς κακῶς. καὶ γὰρ ὑγιαίνουσιν οἱ τὰ σώματα εὖ ἔχοντες καὶ ἰσχύουσι· καὶ πολλοὶ μὲν διὰ τοῦτο ἐκ τῶν πολεμικῶν ἀγώνων σῴζονταί τε εὐσχημόνως καὶ τὰ δεινὰ πάντα διαφεύγουσι, πολλοὶ δὲ φίλοις τε βοηθοῦσι καὶ τὴν πατρίδα εὐεργετοῦσι καὶ διὰ ταῦτα χάριτός τε ἀξιοῦνται καὶ δόξαν μεγάλην κτῶνται καὶ τιμῶν καλλίστων τυγχάνουσι καὶ διὰ ταῦτα τόν τε λοιπὸν βίον ἥδιον καὶ κάλλιον διαζῶσι καὶ τοῖς ἑαυτῶν παισὶ καλλίους ἀφορμὰς εἰς τὸν βίον καταλείπουσιν.
12.5. I tell you, because military training is not publicly recognised by the state, you must not make that an excuse for being a whit less careful in attending to it yourself. For you may rest assured that there is no kind of struggle, apart from war, and no undertaking in which you will be worse off by keeping your body in better fettle. For in everything that men do the body is useful; and in all uses of the body it is of great importance to be in as high a state of physical efficiency as possible.
12.5. οὔτοι χρή, ὅτι οὐκ ἀσκεῖ δημοσίᾳ ἡ πόλις τὰ πρὸς τὸν πόλεμον, διὰ τοῦτο καὶ ἰδίᾳ ἀμελεῖν, ἀλλὰ μηδὲν ἧττον ἐπιμελεῖσθαι. εὖ γὰρ ἴσθι ὅτι οὐδὲ ἐν ἄλλῳ οὐδενὶ ἀγῶνι οὐδὲ ἐν πράξει οὐδεμιᾷ μεῖον ἕξεις διὰ τὸ βέλτιον τὸ σῶμα παρεσκευάσθαι· πρὸς πάντα γὰρ ὅσα πράττουσιν ἄνθρωποι χρήσιμον τὸ σῶμά ἐστιν· ἐν πάσαις δὲ ταῖς τοῦ σώματος χρείαις πολὺ διαφέρει ὡς βέλτιστα τὸ σῶμα ἔχειν·
12.6. Why, even in the process of thinking, in which the use of the body seems to be reduced to a minimum, it is matter of common knowledge that grave mistakes may often be traced to bad health. And because the body is in a bad condition, loss of memory, depression, discontent, insanity often assail the mind so violently as to drive whatever knowledge it contains clean out of it.
12.6. ἐπεὶ καὶ ἐν ᾧ δοκεῖ ἐλαχίστη σώματος χρεία εἶναι, ἐν τῷ διανοεῖσθαι, τίς οὐκ οἶδεν ὅτι καὶ ἐν τούτῳ πολλοὶ μεγάλα σφάλλονται διὰ τὸ μὴ ὑγιαίνειν τὸ σῶμα; καὶ λήθη δὲ καὶ ἀθυμία καὶ δυσκολία καὶ μανία πολλάκις πολλοῖς διὰ τὴν τοῦ σώματος καχεξίαν εἰς τὴν διάνοιαν ἐμπίπτουσιν οὕτως ὥστε καὶ τὰς ἐπιστήμας ἐκβάλλειν.
12.7. But a sound and healthy body is a strong protection to a man, and at least there is no danger then of such a calamity happening to him through physical weakness: on the contrary, it is likely that his sound condition will serve to produce effects the opposite of those that arise from bad condition. And surely a man of sense would submit to anything to obtain the effects that are the opposite of those mentioned in my list.
12.7. τοῖς δὲ τὰ σώματα εὖ ἔχουσι πολλὴ ἀσφάλεια καὶ οὐδεὶς κίνδυνος διά γε τὴν τοῦ σώματος καχεξίαν τοιοῦτόν τι παθεῖν, εἰκὸς δὲ μᾶλλον πρὸς τὰ ἐναντία τῶν διὰ τὴν καχεξίαν γιγνομένων [καὶ] τὴν εὐεξίαν χρήσιμον εἶναι· καίτοι τῶν γε τοῖς εἰρημένοις ἐναντίων ἕνεκα τί οὐκ ἄν τις νοῦν ἔχων ὑπομείνειεν;
12.8. Besides, it is a disgrace to grow old through sheer carelessness before seeing what manner of man you may become by developing your bodily strength and beauty to their highest limit. But you cannot see that, if you are careless; for it will not come of its own accord.
12.8. αἰσχρὸν δὲ καὶ τὸ διὰ τὴν ἀμέλειαν γηρᾶναι, πρὶν ἰδεῖν ἑαυτὸν ποῖος ἂν κάλλιστος καὶ κράτιστος τῷ σώματι γένοιτο· ταῦτα δὲ οὐκ ἔστιν ἰδεῖν ἀμελοῦντα· οὐ γὰρ ἐθέλει αὐτόματα γίγνεσθαι.
13.1. On a man who was angry because his greeting was not returned: Ridiculous! he exclaimed; you would not have been angry if you had met a man in worse health; and yet you are annoyed because you have come across someone with ruder manners!
13.1. ὀργιζομένου δέ ποτέ τινος, ὅτι προσειπών τινα χαίρειν οὐκ ἀντιπροσερρήθη, γελοῖον, ἔφη, τό, εἰ μὲν τὸ σῶμα κάκιον ἔχοντι ἀπήντησάς τῳ, μὴ ἂν ὀργίζεσθαι, ὅτι δὲ τὴν ψυχὴν ἀγροικοτέρως διακειμένῳ περιέτυχες, τοῦτό σε λυπεῖ.
13.2. On another who declared that he found no pleasure in eating: Acumenus, he said, has a good prescription for that ailment. And when asked What? he answered, Stop eating; and you will then find life pleasanter, cheaper, and healthier.
13.2. ἄλλου δὲ λέγοντος ὅτι ἀηδῶς ἐσθίοι, Ἀκουμενός, ἔφη, τούτου φάρμακον ἀγαθὸν διδάσκει. ἐρομένου δέ, ποῖον; παύσασθαι ἐσθίοντα, ἔφη· καὶ ἥδιόν τε καὶ εὐτελέστερον καὶ ὑγιεινότερον διάξειν παυσάμενον.
13.3. On yet another who complained that the drinking water at home was warm: Consequently, he said, when you want warm water to wash in, you will have it at hand. But it’s too cold for washing, objected the other. Then do your servants complain when they use it both for drinking and washing? Oh no: indeed I have often felt surprised that they are content with it for both these purposes. Which is the warmer to drink, the water in your house or Epidaurus water? Epidaurus water. And which is the colder to wash in, yours or Oropus water? Oropus water. Then reflect that you are apparently harder to please than servants and invalids.
13.3. ἄλλου δʼ αὖ λέγοντος ὅτι θερμὸν εἴη παρʼ ἑαυτῷ τὸ ὕδωρ ὃ πίνοι, ὅταν ἄρʼ, ἔφη, βούλῃ θερμῷ λούσασθαι, ἕτοιμον ἔσται σοι. ἀλλὰ ψυχρόν, ἔφη, ἐστὶν ὥστε λούσασθαι. ἆρʼ οὖν, ἔφη, καὶ οἱ οἰκέται σου ἄχθονται πίνοντές τε αὐτὸ καὶ λούμενοι αὐτῷ; μὰ τὸν Δίʼ, ἔφη· ἀλλὰ καὶ πολλάκις τεθαύμακα ὡς ἡδέως αὐτῷ πρὸς ἀμφότερα ταῦτα χρῶνται. πότερον δέ, ἔφη, τὸ παρὰ σοὶ ὕδωρ θερμότερον πιεῖν ἐστιν ἢ τὸ ἐν Ἀσκληπιοῦ; τὸ ἐν Ἀσκληπιοῦ, ἔφη. πότερον δὲ λούσασθαι ψυχρότερον τὸ παρὰ σοὶ ἢ τὸ ἐν Ἀμφιαράου; τὸ ἐν Ἀμφιαράου, ἔφη. ἐνθυμοῦ οὖν, ἔφη, ὅτι κινδυνεύεις δυσαρεστότερος εἶναι τῶν τε οἰκετῶν καὶ τῶν ἀρρωστούντων.
13.4. When someone punished his footman severely, he asked why he was angry with his man. Because he’s a glutton and he’s a fool, said the other: he’s rapacious and he’s lazy. Have you ever considered, then, which deserves the more stripes, the master or the man?
13.4. κολάσαντος δέ τινος ἰσχυρῶς ἀκόλουθον, ἤρετο τί χαλεπαίνοι τῷ θεράποντι, ὅτι, ἔφη, ὀψοφαγίστατός τε ὢν βλακότατός ἐστι καὶ φιλαργυρώτατος ὢν ἀργότατος. ἤδη ποτὲ οὖν ἐπεσκέψω, πότερος πλειόνων πληγῶν δεῖται, σὺ ἢ ὁ θεράπων;
13.5. When someone was afraid of the journey to Olympia, he said: Why do you fear the distance? When you are at home, don’t you spend most of the day in walking about? on your way there you will take a walk before lunch, and another before dinner, and then take a rest. Don’t you know that if you put together the walks you take in five or six days, you can easily cover the distance from Athens to Olympia? It is more comfortable, too, to start a day early rather than a day late, since to be forced to make the stages of the journey unduly long is unpleasant; but to take a day extra on the way makes easy going. So it is better to hurry over the start than on the road.
13.5. φοβουμένου δέ τινος τὴν εἰς Ὀλυμπίαν ὁδόν, τί, ἔφη, φοβῇ τὴν πορείαν; οὐ καὶ οἴκοι σχεδὸν ὅλην τὴν ἡμέραν περιπατεῖς; καὶ ἐκεῖσε πορευόμενος περιπατήσας ἀριστήσεις, περιπατήσας δειπνήσεις καὶ ἀναπαύσῃ. οὐκ οἶσθα ὅτι, εἰ ἐκτείναις τοὺς περιπάτους, οὓς ἐν πέντε ἢ ἓξ ἡμέραις περιπατεῖς, ῥᾳδίως ἂν Ἀθήνηθεν εἰς Ὀλυμπίαν ἀφίκοιο; χαριέστερον δὲ καὶ προεξορμᾶν ἡμέρᾳ μιᾷ μᾶλλον ἢ ὑστερίζειν. τὸ μὲν γὰρ ἀναγκάζεσθαι περαιτέρω τοῦ μετρίου μηκύνειν τὰς ὁδοὺς χαλεπόν, τὸ δὲ μιᾷ ἡμέρᾳ πλείους πορευθῆναι πολλὴν ῥᾳστώνην παρέχει. κρεῖττον οὖν ἐν τῇ ὁρμῇ σπεύδειν ἢ ἐν τῇ ὁδῷ.
13.6. When another said that he was worn out after a long journey, he asked him whether he had carried a load. Oh no, said the man; only my cloak. Were you alone, or had you a footman with you? I had. Empty-handed or carrying anything? He carried the rugs and the rest of the baggage, of course. And how has he come out of the journey? Better than I, so far as I can tell. Well then, if you had been forced to carry his load, how would you have felt, do you suppose? Bad, of course; or rather, I couldn’t have done it. Indeed! do you think a trained man ought to be so much less capable of work than his slave?
13.6. ἄλλου δὲ λέγοντος ὡς παρετάθη μακρὰν ὁδὸν πορευθείς, ἤρετο αὐτὸν εἰ καὶ φορτίον ἔφερε, μὰ Δίʼ οὐκ ἔγωγʼ, ἔφη, ἀλλὰ τὸ ἱμάτιον. μόνος δʼ ἐπορεύου, ἔφη, ἢ καὶ ἀκόλουθός σοι ἠκολούθει; ἠκολούθει, ἔφη. πότερον κενός, ἔφη, ἢ φέρων τι; φέρων νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη, τά τε στρώματα καὶ τἆλλα σκεύη. καὶ πῶς [τι], ἔφη, ἀπήλλαχεν ἐκ τῆς ὁδοῦ; ἐμοὶ μὲν δοκεῖ, ἔφη, βέλτιον ἐμοῦ. τί οὖν; ἔφη, εἰ τὸ ἐκείνου φορτίον ἔδει σε φέρειν, πῶς ἂν οἴει διατεθῆναι; κακῶς νὴ Δίʼ, ἔφη· μᾶλλον δὲ οὐδʼ ἂν ἐδυνήθην κομίσαι. τὸ οὖν τοσούτῳ ἧττον τοῦ παιδὸς δύνασθαι πονεῖν πῶς ἠσκημένου δοκεῖ σοι ἀνδρὸς εἶναι;
14.1. Whenever some of the members of a dining-club brought more meat than others, Socrates would tell the waiter either to put the small contribution into the common stock or to portion it out equally among the diners. So the high batteners felt obliged not only to take their share of the pool, but to pool their own supplies in return; and so they put their own supplies also into the common stock. And since they thus got no more than those who brought little with them, they gave up spending much on meat.
14.1. ὁπότε δὲ τῶν συνιόντων ἐπὶ δεῖπνον οἱ μὲν μικρὸν ὄψον, οἱ δὲ πολὺ φέροιεν, ἐκέλευεν ὁ Σωκράτης τὸν παῖδα τὸ μικρὸν ἢ εἰς τὸ κοινὸν τιθέναι ἢ διανέμειν ἑκάστῳ τὸ μέρος. οἱ οὖν τὸ πολὺ φέροντες ᾐσχύνοντο ⟨τό⟩ τε μὴ κοινωνεῖν τοῦ εἰς τὸ κοινὸν τιθεμένου καὶ τὸ μὴ ἀντιτιθέναι τὸ ἑαυτῶν· ἐτίθεσαν οὖν καὶ τὸ ἑαυτῶν εἰς τὸ κοινόν. καὶ ἐπεὶ οὐδὲν πλέον εἶχον τῶν μικρὸν φερομένων, ἐπαύοντο πολλοῦ ὀψωνοῦντες.
14.2. He observed on one occasion that one of the company at dinner had ceased to take bread, and ate the meat by itself. Now the talk was of names and the actions to which they are properly applied. Can we say, my friends, said Socrates, what is the nature of the action for which a man is called greedy? For all, I presume, eat meat with their bread when they get the chance: but I don’t think there is so far any reason for calling them greedy? No, certainly not, said one of the company.
14.2. καταμαθὼν δέ ποτε τῶν συνδειπνούντων τινὰ τοῦ μὲν σίτου πεπαυμένον, τὸ δὲ ὄψον αὐτὸ καθʼ αὑτὸ ἐσθίοντα, λόγου ὄντος περὶ ὀνομάτων, ἐφʼ οἵῳ ἔργῳ ἕκαστον εἴη, ἔχοιμεν ἄν, ἔφη, ὦ ἄνδρες, εἰπεῖν, ἐπὶ ποίῳ ποτὲ ἔργῳ ἄνθρωπος ὀψοφάγος καλεῖται; ἐσθίουσι μὲν γὰρ δὴ πάντες ἐπὶ τῷ σίτῳ ὄψον, ὅταν παρῇ· ἀλλʼ οὐκ οἶμαί πω ἐπὶ τούτῳ γε ὀψοφάγοι καλοῦνται. οὐ γὰρ οὖν, ἔφη τις τῶν παρόντων.
14.3. Well, suppose he eats the meat alone, without the bread, not because he’s in training, but to tickle his palate, does he seem a greedy fellow or not? If not, it’s hard to say who does, was the reply. Here another of the company queried, And he who eats a scrap of bread with a large helping of meat? He too seems to me to deserve the epithet, said Socrates. Aye, and when others pray for a good wheat harvest, he, presumably, would pray for a good meat supply.
14.3. τί γάρ; ἔφη, ἐάν τις ἄνευ τοῦ σίτου τὸ ὄψον αὐτὸ ἐσθίῃ, μὴ ἀσκήσεως, ἀλλʼ ἡδονῆς ἕνεκα, πότερον ὀψοφάγος εἶναι δοκεῖ ἢ οὔ; σχολῇ γʼ ἄν, ἔφη, ἄλλος τις ὀψοφάγος εἴη. καί τις ἄλλος τῶν παρόντων, ὁ δὲ μικρῷ σίτῳ, ἔφη, πολὺ ὄψον ἐπεσθίων; ἐμοὶ μέν, ἔφη ὁ Σωκράτης, καὶ οὗτος δοκεῖ δικαίως ἂν ὀψοφάγος καλεῖσθαι· καὶ ὅταν γε οἱ ἄλλοι ἄνθρωποι τοῖς θεοῖς εὔχωνται πολυκαρπίαν, εἰκότως ἂν οὗτος πολυοψίαν εὔχοιτο.
14.4. The young man, guessing that these remarks of Socrates applied to him, did not stop eating his meat, but took some bread with it. When Socrates observed this, he cried: Watch the fellow, you who are near him, and see whether he treats the bread as his meat or the meat as his bread.
14.4. ταῦτα δὲ τοῦ Σωκράτους εἰπόντος, νομίσας ὁ νεανίσκος εἰς αὑτὸν εἰρῆσθαι τὰ λεχθέντα τὸ μὲν ὄψον οὐκ ἐπαύσατο ἐσθίων, ἄρτον δὲ προσέλαβε. καὶ ὁ Σωκράτης καταμαθών, παρατηρεῖτʼ, ἔφη, τοῦτον οἱ πλησίον, ὁπότερα τῷ σίτῳ ὄψῳ ἢ τῷ ὄψῳ σίτῳ χρήσεται.
14.5. On another occasion he noticed one of the company at dinner tasting several dishes with each bite of bread. Can you imagine, he asked, a meal more extravagant and more ruinous to the victuals than his who eats many things together, and crams all sorts of sauces into his mouth at once? At any rate by mixing more ingredients than the cooks, he adds to the cost, and since he mixes ingredients that they regard as unsuitable in a mixture, if they are right, then he is wrong and is ruining their art.
14.5. ἄλλον δέ ποτε τῶν συνδείπνων ἰδὼν ἐπὶ τῷ ἑνὶ ψωμῷ πλειόνων ὄψων γευόμενον, ἆρα γένοιτʼ ἄν, ἔφη, πολυτελεστέρα ὀψοποιία ἢ μᾶλλον τὰ ὄψα λυμαινομένη, ἢ ἣν ὀψοποιεῖται ὁ ἅμα πολλὰ ἐσθίων καὶ ἅμα παντοδαπὰ ἡδύσματα εἰς τὸ στόμα λαμβάνων; πλείω μέν γε τῶν ὀψοποιῶν συμμιγνύων πολυτελέστερα ποιεῖ· ἃ δὲ ἐκεῖνοι μὴ συμμιγνύουσιν, ὡς οὐχ ἁρμόττοντα, ὁ συμμιγνύων, εἴπερ ἐκεῖνοι ὀρθῶς ποιοῦσιν, ἁμαρτάνει τε καὶ καταλύει τὴν τέχνην αὐτῶν.
14.6. Yet it is surely ridiculous for a master to obtain highly skilled cooks, and then, though he claims no knowledge of the art, to alter their confections? There’s another drawback, too, attaching to the habit of eating many things together. For if many dishes are not provided, one seems to go short because one misses the usual variety: whereas he who is accustomed to take one kind of meat along with one bit of bread can make the best of one dish when more are not forthcoming.
14.6. καίτοι πῶς οὐ γελοῖόν ἐστι παρασκευάζεσθαι μὲν ὀψοποιοὺς τοὺς ἄριστα ἐπισταμένους, αὐτὸν δὲ μηδʼ ἀντιποιούμενον τῆς τέχνης ταύτης τὰ ὑπʼ ἐκείνων ποιούμενα μετατιθέναι; καὶ ἄλλο δέ τι προσγίγνεται τῷ ἅμα πολλὰ ἐσθίειν ἐθισθέντι· μὴ παρόντων γὰρ πολλῶν μειονεκτεῖν ἄν τι δοκοίη ποθῶν τὸ σύνηθες· ὁ δὲ συνεθισθεὶς τὸν ἕνα ψωμὸν ἑνὶ ὄψῳ προπέμπειν, ὅτε μὴ παρείη πολλά, δύναιτʼ ἂν ἀλύπως τῷ ἑνὶ χρῆσθαι.
14.7. He used to say too that the term “good feeding” in Attic was a synonym for “eating.” The “good” in the compound implied the eating of food that could harm neither body nor soul and was not hard to come by. Thus he attributed even good feeding to sober livers.
14.7. ἔλεγε δὲ καὶ ὡς τὸ εὐωχεῖσθαι ἐν τῇ Ἀθηναίων γλώττῃ ἐσθίειν καλοῖτο· τὸ δὲ εὖ προσκεῖσθαι ἔφη ἐπὶ τῷ ταῦτα ἐσθίειν, ἃ μήτε τὴν ψυχὴν μήτε τὸ σῶμα λυποίη μηδὲ δυσεύρετα εἴη· ὥστε καὶ τὸ εὐωχεῖσθαι τοῖς κοσμίως διαιτωμένοις ἀνετίθει.