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Λύσις
Print source: Platonis Opera, ed. John Burnet, Oxford University Press, 1903.

Electronic source: Perseus Digital Library
Lysis
Print source: Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 8 translated by W.R.M. Lamb., Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd., 1955.

Electronic source: Perseus Digital Library
203a
Σωκράτης:
ἐπορευόμην μὲν ἐξ Ἀκαδημείας εὐθὺ Λυκείου τὴν ἔξω τείχους ὑπ' αὐτὸ τὸ τεῖχος: ἐπειδὴ δ' ἐγενόμην κατὰ τὴν πυλίδα ᾗ ἡ Πάνοπος κρήνη, ἐνταῦθα συνέτυχον Ἱπποθάλει τε τῷ Ἱερωνύμου καὶ Κτησίππῳ τῷ Παιανιεῖ καὶ ἄλλοις μετὰ τούτων νεανίσκοις ἁθρόοις συνεστῶσι. καί με προσιόντα ὁ Ἱπποθάλης ἰδών, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἔφη, ποῖ δὴ πορεύῃ καὶ
203a
I was making my way from the Academy straight to the Lyceum, by the road outside the town wall,—just under the wall; and when I reached the little gate that leads to the spring of Panops,
I chanced there upon Hippothales, son of Hieronymus, and Ctesippus of Paeania, and some other youths with them, standing in a group together. Then Hippothales, as he saw me approaching, said: Socrates, whither away, and whence?
203b
πόθεν;


ἐξ Ἀκαδημείας, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, πορεύομαι εὐθὺ Λυκείου.


δεῦρο δή, ἦ δ' ὅς, εὐθὺ ἡμῶν. οὐ παραβάλλεις; ἄξιον μέντοι.


ποῖ, ἔφην ἐγώ, λέγεις, καὶ παρὰ τίνας τοὺς ὑμᾶς;


δεῦρο, ἔφη, δείξας μοι ἐν τῷ καταντικρὺ τοῦ τείχους περίβολόν τέ τινα καὶ θύραν ἀνεῳγμένην. διατρίβομεν δέ, ἦ δ' ὅς, αὐτόθι ἡμεῖς τε αὐτοὶ καὶ ἄλλοι πάνυ πολλοὶ καὶ καλοί.
203b
From the Academy, I replied, on my way straight to the Lyceum.


Come over here, he said, straight to us. You will not put in here? But you may as well.


Where do you mean? I asked; and what is your company?


Here, he said, showing me there, just opposite the wall, a sort of enclosure and a door standing open. We pass our time there, he went on; not only we ourselves, but others besides,—a great many, and handsome.
204a
ἔστιν δὲ δὴ τί τοῦτο, καὶ τίς ἡ διατριβή;


παλαίστρα, ἔφη, νεωστὶ ᾠκοδομημένη: ἡ δὲ διατριβὴ τὰ πολλὰ ἐν λόγοις, ὧν ἡδέως ἄν σοι μεταδιδοῖμεν.


καλῶς γε, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ποιοῦντες: διδάσκει δὲ τίς αὐτόθι;


σὸς ἑταῖρός γε, ἦ δ' ὅς, καὶ ἐπαινέτης, Μίκκος.


μὰ Δία, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, οὐ φαῦλός γε ἁνήρ, ἀλλ' ἱκανὸς σοφιστής.


βούλει οὖν ἕπεσθαι, ἔφη, ἵνα καὶ ἴδῃς τοὺς ὄντας αὐτόθι [αὐτοῦ];
204a
And what, pray, is this place, and what your pastime?


A wrestling school, he said, of recent construction; and our pastime chiefly consists of discussions, in which we should be happy to let you have a share.


That is very good of you, I said; and who does the teaching there?


Your own comrade, he replied, and supporter, Miccus.


Upon my word, I said, he is no slight person, but a qualified professor.


Then will you please come in with us, he said, so as to see for yourself the company we have there?
204b
πρῶτον ἡδέως ἀκούσαιμ' ἂν ἐπὶ τῷ καὶ εἴσειμι καὶ τίς ὁ καλός.


ἄλλος, ἔφη, ἄλλῳ ἡμῶν δοκεῖ, ὦ Σώκρατες.


σοὶ δὲ δὴ τίς, ὦ Ἱππόθαλες; τοῦτό μοι εἰπέ.


καὶ ὃς ἐρωτηθεὶς ἠρυθρίασεν. καὶ ἐγὼ εἶπον: ὦ παῖ Ἱερωνύμου Ἱππόθαλες, τοῦτο μὲν μηκέτι εἴπῃς, εἴτε ἐρᾷς του εἴτε μή: οἶδα γὰρ ὅτι οὐ μόνον ἐρᾷς, ἀλλὰ καὶ πόρρω ἤδη εἶ πορευόμενος τοῦ ἔρωτος. εἰμὶ δ' ἐγὼ τὰ μὲν ἄλλα φαῦλος
204b
I should be glad to hear first on what terms I am to enter, and which is the handsome one.


Each of us, he replied, has a different fancy, Socrates.


Well, and which is yours, Hippothales? Tell me that.


At this question he blushed; so I said: Ah, Hippothales, son of Hieronymus, you need not trouble to tell me whether you are in love with somebody or not: for I know you are not only in love, but also far advanced already in your passion. In everything else I may be a poor useless creature,
204c
καὶ ἄχρηστος, τοῦτο δέ μοί πως ἐκ θεοῦ δέδοται, ταχὺ οἵῳ τ' εἶναι γνῶναι ἐρῶντά τε καὶ ἐρώμενον.


καὶ ὃς ἀκούσας πολὺ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἠρυθρίασεν. ὁ οὖν Κτήσιππος, Ἀστεῖόν γε, ἦ δ' ὅς, ὅτι ἐρυθριᾷς, ὦ Ἱππόθαλες, καὶ ὀκνεῖς εἰπεῖν Σωκράτει τοὔνομα: ἐὰν δ' οὗτος καὶ σμικρὸν χρόνον συνδιατρίψῃ σοι, παραταθήσεται ὑπὸ σοῦ ἀκούων θαμὰ λέγοντος. ἡμῶν γοῦν, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἐκκεκώφωκε τὰ
204c
but there is one gift that I have somehow from heaven,—to be able to recognize quickly a lover or a beloved.


When he heard this, he blushed much more than ever. Then Ctesippus remarked: Quite charming, the way you blush, Hippothales, and shrink from telling Socrates the name; yet, if he spends but a little time with you, he will find you a regular torment, as he hears you repeat it again and again. He has deafened our ears, I can tell you, Socrates, by cramming them with “Lysis”:
204d
ὦτα καὶ ἐμπέπληκε Λύσιδος: ἂν μὲν δὴ καὶ ὑποπίῃ, εὐμαρία ἡμῖν ἐστιν καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου ἐγρομένοις Λύσιδος οἴεσθαι τοὔνομα ἀκούειν. καὶ ἃ μὲν καταλογάδην διηγεῖται, δεινὰ ὄντα, οὐ πάνυ τι δεινά ἐστιν, ἀλλ' ἐπειδὰν τὰ ποιήματα ἡμῶν ἐπιχειρήσῃ καταντλεῖν καὶ συγγράμματα. καὶ ὅ ἐστιν τούτων δεινότερον, ὅτι καὶ ᾄδει εἰς τὰ παιδικὰ φωνῇ θαυμασίᾳ, ἣν ἡμᾶς δεῖ ἀκούοντας ἀνέχεσθαι. νῦν δὲ ἐρωτώμενος ὑπὸ σοῦ ἐρυθριᾷ.
204d
let him be a trifle in liquor, and as likely as not we start out of our sleep fancying we hear the name of Lysis. The descriptions he gives us in conversation, though dreadful enough, are not so very bad: it is when he sets about inundating us with his poems and prose compositions. More dreadful than all, he actually sings about his favorite in an extraordinary voice, which we have the trial of hearing. And now, at a question from you, he blushes!


Lysis apparently, I said, is somebody quite young:
204e
ἔστιν δέ, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὁ Λύσις νέος τις, ὡς ἔοικε: τεκμαίρομαι δέ, ὅτι ἀκούσας τοὔνομα οὐκ ἔγνων.


οὐ γὰρ πάνυ, ἔφη, τὶ αὐτοῦ τοὔνομα λέγουσιν, ἀλλ' ἔτι πατρόθεν ἐπονομάζεται διὰ τὸ σφόδρα τὸν πατέρα γιγνώσκεσθαι αὐτοῦ. ἐπεὶ εὖ οἶδ' ὅτι πολλοῦ δεῖς τὸ εἶδος ἀγνοεῖν τοῦ παιδός: ἱκανὸς γὰρ καὶ ἀπὸ μόνου τούτου γιγνώσκεσθαι.


λεγέσθω, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, οὗτινος ἔστιν.


Δημοκράτους, ἔφη, τοῦ Αἰξωνέως ὁ πρεσβύτατος ὑός.


εἶεν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ Ἱππόθαλες, ὡς γενναῖον καὶ νεανικὸν τοῦτον τὸν ἔρωτα πανταχῇ ἀνηῦρες: καί μοι ἴθι ἐπίδειξαι ἃ
204e
this I infer from the fact that I did not recognize the name when I heard it.


That is because they do not usually call him by his name, he replied; he still goes by his paternal title,
as his father is so very well known. You must, I am sure, be anything but ignorant of the boy's appearance: that alone would be enough to know him by.


Let me hear, I said, whose son he is.


The eldest son, he replied, of Democrates of Aexone.


Ah well, I said, Hippothales, what an altogether noble and gallant love you have discovered there! Now please go on and give me a performance like those that you give your friends here,
205a
καὶ τοῖσδε ἐπιδείκνυσαι, ἵνα εἰδῶ εἰ ἐπίστασαι ἃ χρὴ ἐραστὴν περὶ παιδικῶν πρὸς αὐτὸν ἢ πρὸς ἄλλους λέγειν.


τούτων δέ τι, ἔφη, σταθμᾷ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὧν ὅδε λέγει;


πότερον, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, καὶ τὸ ἐρᾶν ἔξαρνος εἶ οὗ λέγει ὅδε;


οὐκ ἔγωγε, ἔφη, ἀλλὰ μὴ ποιεῖν εἰς τὰ παιδικὰ μηδὲ συγγράφειν.


οὐχ ὑγιαίνει, ἔφη ὁ Κτήσιππος, ἀλλὰ ληρεῖ τε καὶ μαίνεται.


καὶ ἐγὼ εἶπον: ὦ Ἱππόθαλες, οὔ τι τῶν μέτρων δέομαι
205a
so that I may know whether you understand what a lover ought to say of his favorite to his face or to others.


Do you attach any weight, Socrates, he asked, to anything you have heard this fellow say?


Tell me, I said; do you deny being in love with the person he mentions?


Not I, he replied; but I do deny that I make poems and compositions on my favorite.


He is in a bad way, said Ctesippus; why, he raves like a madman!


Then I remarked: Hippothales, I do not want to hear your verses,
205b
ἀκοῦσαι οὐδὲ μέλος εἴ τι πεποίηκας εἰς τὸν νεανίσκον, ἀλλὰ τῆς διανοίας, ἵνα εἰδῶ τίνα τρόπον προσφέρῃ πρὸς τὰ παιδικά.


ὅδε δήπου σοι, ἔφη, ἐρεῖ: ἀκριβῶς γὰρ ἐπίσταται καὶ μέμνηται, εἴπερ, ὡς λέγει, ὑπ' ἐμοῦ ἀεὶ ἀκούων διατεθρύληται.


νὴ τοὺς θεούς, ἔφη ὁ Κτήσιππος, πάνυ γε. καὶ γάρ ἐστι καταγέλαστα, ὦ Σώκρατες. τὸ γὰρ ἐραστὴν ὄντα καὶ διαφερόντως τῶν ἄλλων τὸν νοῦν προσέχοντα τῷ παιδὶ ἴδιον
205b
or any ode that you may have indited to the youth; I only ask for their purport, that I may know your manner of dealing with your favorite.


I expect this fellow will tell you, he replied: he has an accurate knowledge and recollection of them, if there is any truth in what he says of my having dinned them so constantly in his ears.


Quite so, on my soul, said Ctesippus; and a ridiculous story it is too, Socrates. To be a lover, and to be singularly intent on one's boy, yet to have nothing particular to tell him that a mere boy could not say, is surely ridiculous:
205c
μὲν μηδὲν ἔχειν λέγειν ὃ οὐχὶ κἂν παῖς εἴποι, πῶς οὐχὶ καταγέλαστον; ἃ δὲ ἡ πόλις ὅλη ᾄδει περὶ Δημοκράτους καὶ Λύσιδος τοῦ πάππου τοῦ παιδὸς καὶ πάντων πέρι τῶν προγόνων, πλούτους τε καὶ ἱπποτροφίας καὶ νίκας Πυθοῖ καὶ Ἰσθμοῖ καὶ Νεμέᾳ τεθρίπποις τε καὶ κέλησι, ταῦτα ποιεῖ τε καὶ λέγει, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις ἔτι τούτων κρονικώτερα. τὸν γὰρ τοῦ Ἡρακλέους ξενισμὸν πρῴην ἡμῖν ἐν ποιήματί τινι διῄει, ὡς διὰ τὴν τοῦ Ἡρακλέους συγγένειαν ὁ πρόγονος αὐτῶν
205c
but he only writes and relates things that the whole city sings of, recalling Democrates and the boy's grandfather Lysis and all his ancestors, with their wealth and the horses they kept, and their victories at Delphi, the Isthmus, and Nemea,
with chariot-teams and coursers, and, in addition, even hoarier antiquities than these. Only two days ago he was recounting to us in some poem of his the entertainment of Hercules,—how on account of his kinship with Hercules their forefather welcomed the hero,
205d
ὑποδέξαιτο τὸν Ἡρακλέα, γεγονὼς αὐτὸς ἐκ Διός τε καὶ τῆς τοῦ δήμου ἀρχηγέτου θυγατρός, ἅπερ αἱ γραῖαι ᾄδουσι, καὶ ἄλλα πολλὰ τοιαῦτα, ὦ Σώκρατες: ταῦτ' ἐστὶν ἃ οὗτος λέγων τε καὶ ᾄδων ἀναγκάζει καὶ ἡμᾶς ἀκροᾶσθαι.


καὶ ἐγὼ ἀκούσας εἶπον: ὦ καταγέλαστε Ἱππόθαλες, πρὶν νενικηκέναι ποιεῖς τε καὶ ᾄδεις εἰς σαυτὸν ἐγκώμιον;


ἀλλ' οὐκ εἰς ἐμαυτόν, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὔτε ποιῶ οὔτε ᾄδω.


οὐκ οἴει γε, ἦν δ' ἐγώ.


τὸ δὲ πῶς ἔχει; ἔφη.
205d
being himself the offspring of Zeus and of the daughter of their deme's founder; such old wives' tales, and many more of the sort, Socrates,—these are the things he tells and trolls, while compelling us to be his audience.


When I heard this I said: Oh, you ridiculous Hippothales, do you compose and chant a triumph song on yourself, before you have won your victory?


It is not on myself, Socrates, he replied, that I either compose or chant it.


You think not, I said.


Then what is the truth of it? he asked.
205e
πάντων μάλιστα, εἶπον, εἰς σὲ τείνουσιν αὗται αἱ ᾠδαί. ἐὰν μὲν γὰρ ἕλῃς τὰ παιδικὰ τοιαῦτα ὄντα, κόσμος σοι ἔσται τὰ λεχθέντα καὶ ᾀσθέντα καὶ τῷ ὄντι ἐγκώμια ὥσπερ νενικηκότι, ὅτι τοιούτων παιδικῶν ἔτυχες: ἐὰν δέ σε διαφύγῃ, ὅσῳ ἂν μείζω σοι εἰρημένα ᾖ ἐγκώμια περὶ τῶν παιδικῶν, τοσούτῳ μειζόνων δόξεις καλῶν τε καὶ ἀγαθῶν ἐστερημένος
205e
Most certainly, I replied, it is you to whom these songs refer. For if you prevail on your favorite, and he is such as you describe, all that you have spoken and sung will be so much glory to you, and a veritable eulogy upon your triumph in having secured such a favorite as that: whereas if he eludes your grasp, the higher the terms of your eulogy of your favorite, the greater will seem to be the charms and virtues you have lost, and you will be ridiculed accordingly. Hence anyone who deals wisely in love-matters,
206a
καταγέλαστος εἶναι. ὅστις οὖν τὰ ἐρωτικά, ὦ φίλε, σοφός, οὐκ ἐπαινεῖ τὸν ἐρώμενον πρὶν ἂν ἕλῃ, δεδιὼς τὸ μέλλον ὅπῃ ἀποβήσεται. καὶ ἅμα οἱ καλοί, ἐπειδάν τις αὐτοὺς ἐπαινῇ καὶ αὔξῃ, φρονήματος ἐμπίμπλανται καὶ μεγαλαυχίας: ἢ οὐκ οἴει;


ἔγωγε, ἔφη.


οὐκοῦν ὅσῳ ἂν μεγαλαυχότεροι ὦσιν, δυσαλωτότεροι γίγνονται;


εἰκός γε.


ποῖός τις οὖν ἄν σοι δοκεῖ θηρευτὴς εἶναι, εἰ ἀνασοβοῖ θηρεύων καὶ δυσαλωτοτέραν τὴν ἄγραν ποιοῖ;
206a
my friend, does not praise his beloved until he prevails, for fear of what the future may have in store for him. And besides, these handsome boys, when so praised and extolled, become full of pride and haughtiness: do you not think so?


I do, he said.


And then, the haughtier they are, the harder grows the task of capturing them?


Yes, apparently.


And what do you think of a hunter who should scare away his quarry in hunting and make it harder to catch?


Clearly he would be a poor one.
206b
δῆλον ὅτι φαῦλος.


καὶ μὲν δὴ λόγοις τε καὶ ᾠδαῖς μὴ κηλεῖν ἀλλ' ἐξαγριαίνειν πολλὴ ἀμουσία: ἦ γάρ;


δοκεῖ μοι.


σκόπει δή, ὦ Ἱππόθαλες, ὅπως μὴ πᾶσι τούτοις ἔνοχον σαυτὸν ποιήσεις διὰ τὴν ποίησιν: καίτοι οἶμαι ἐγὼ ἄνδρα ποιήσει βλάπτοντα ἑαυτὸν οὐκ ἄν σε ἐθέλειν ὁμολογῆσαι ὡς ἀγαθός ποτ' ἐστὶν ποιητής, βλαβερὸς ὢν ἑαυτῷ.


οὐ μὰ τὸν Δία, ἔφη: πολλὴ γὰρ ἂν ἀλογία εἴη. ἀλλὰ διὰ
206b
And hence to use speech and song, not for charming but for driving wild, would be gross fatuity, would it not?


I think so.


Then take care, Hippothales, not to make yourself guilty of all these things by your verse-making; and yet I fancy you will not like to allow that a man who damages himself by poetry can be a good poet, so long as he is damaging to himself.


On my soul, no, he said; of course it would be most absurd. But this is the very reason, Socrates, why I impart my feelings to you,
206c
ταῦτα δή σοι, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἀνακοινοῦμαι, καὶ εἴ τι ἄλλο ἔχεις, συμβούλευε τίνα ἄν τις λόγον διαλεγόμενος ἢ τί πράττων προσφιλὴς παιδικοῖς γένοιτο.


οὐ ῥᾴδιον, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, εἰπεῖν: ἀλλ' εἴ μοι ἐθελήσαις αὐτὸν ποιῆσαι εἰς λόγους ἐλθεῖν, ἴσως ἂν δυναίμην σοι ἐπιδεῖξαι ἃ χρὴ αὐτῷ διαλέγεσθαι ἀντὶ τούτων ὧν οὗτοι λέγειν τε καὶ ᾄδειν φασί σε.


ἀλλ' οὐδέν, ἔφη, χαλεπόν. ἂν γὰρ εἰσέλθῃς μετὰ Κτησίππου τοῦδε καὶ καθεζόμενος διαλέγῃ, οἶμαι μὲν καὶ αὐτός σοι πρόσεισι—φιλήκοος γάρ, ὦ Σώκρατες, διαφερόντως
206c
and ask you for any useful advice you can give as to what conversation or conduct will help to endear one to one's favorite.


That is not an easy thing to tell, I replied; but if you will agree to get him to have a talk with me, I daresay I could show you an example of the conversation you should hold with him, instead of those things that your friends say you speak and sing.


There is no difficulty about that, he said. If you will go in with Ctesippus here, and take a seat and talk, I think he will come to you of his own accord; he is singularly fond of listening, Socrates,
206d
ἐστίν, καὶ ἅμα, ὡς Ἑρμαῖα ἄγουσιν, ἀναμεμειγμένοι ἐν ταὐτῷ εἰσιν οἵ τε νεανίσκοι καὶ οἱ παῖδες—πρόσεισιν οὖν σοι. εἰ δὲ μή, Κτησίππῳ συνήθης ἐστὶν διὰ τὸν τούτου ἀνεψιὸν Μενέξενον: Μενεξένῳ μὲν γὰρ δὴ πάντων μάλιστα ἑταῖρος ὢν τυγχάνει. καλεσάτω οὖν οὗτος αὐτόν, ἐὰν ἄρα μὴ προσίῃ αὐτός.


ταῦτα, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, χρὴ ποιεῖν. καὶ ἅμα λαβὼν τὸν
206d
and besides, they are keeping the Hermaea,
so that the youths and boys are all mingled together. So he will come to you but if he does not, Ctesippus is intimate with him, as being a cousin of Menexenus; for Lysis has chosen Menexenus for his particular friend. So let Ctesippus call him if you find that he does not come of himself.


That is what I must do, I said. Whereupon I took Ctesippus
206e
Κτήσιππον προσῇα εἰς τὴν παλαίστραν: οἱ δ' ἄλλοι ὕστεροι ἡμῶν ᾖσαν.


εἰσελθόντες δὲ κατελάβομεν αὐτόθι τεθυκότας τε τοὺς παῖδας καὶ τὰ περὶ τὰ ἱερεῖα σχεδόν τι ἤδη πεποιημένα, ἀστραγαλίζοντάς τε δὴ καὶ κεκοσμημένους ἅπαντας. οἱ μὲν οὖν πολλοὶ ἐν τῇ αὐλῇ ἔπαιζον ἔξω, οἱ δέ τινες τοῦ ἀποδυτηρίου ἐν γωνίᾳ ἠρτίαζον ἀστραγάλοις παμπόλλοις, ἐκ φορμίσκων τινῶν προαιρούμενοι: τούτους δὲ περιέστασαν ἄλλοι θεωροῦντες. ὧν δὴ καὶ ὁ Λύσις ἦν, καὶ εἱστήκει ἐν
206e
with me into the wrestling school, and the others came after us. When we got inside, we found that the boys had performed the sacrifice in the place and, as the ceremonial business was now almost over, they were all playing at knuckle-bones and wearing their finest attire. Most of them were playing in the court out-of-doors; but some were at a game of odd-and-even in a corner of the undressing room, with a great lot of knuckle-bones which they drew from little baskets; and there were others standing about them and looking on. Among these was Lysis: he stood among the boys
207a
τοῖς παισί τε καὶ νεανίσκοις ἐστεφανωμένος καὶ τὴν ὄψιν διαφέρων, οὐ τὸ καλὸς εἶναι μόνον ἄξιος ἀκοῦσαι, ἀλλ' ὅτι καλός τε κἀγαθός. καὶ ἡμεῖς εἰς τὸ καταντικρὺ ἀποχωρήσαντες ἐκαθεζόμεθα—ἦν γὰρ αὐτόθι ἡσυχία—καί τι ἀλλήλοις διελεγόμεθα. περιστρεφόμενος οὖν ὁ Λύσις θαμὰ ἐπεσκοπεῖτο ἡμᾶς, καὶ δῆλος ἦν ἐπιθυμῶν προσελθεῖν. τέως μὲν οὖν ἠπόρει τε καὶ ὤκνει μόνος προσιέναι, ἔπειτα ὁ Μενέξενος
207a
and youths with a garland on his head, a distinguished figure, deserving not merely the name of well-favored, but also of well-made and well-bred. As for us, we went and sat apart on the opposite side—for it was quiet there—and started some talk amongst ourselves. The result was that Lysis ever and anon turned round to observe us, and was obviously eager to join us. For a while, however, he hesitated, being too shy to approach us alone;
207b
ἐκ τῆς αὐλῆς μεταξὺ παίζων εἰσέρχεται, καὶ ὡς εἶδεν ἐμέ τε καὶ τὸν Κτήσιππον, ᾔει παρακαθιζησόμενος: ἰδὼν οὖν αὐτὸν ὁ Λύσις εἵπετο καὶ συμπαρεκαθέζετο μετὰ τοῦ Μενεξένου. προσῆλθον δὴ καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι, καὶ δὴ καὶ ὁ Ἱπποθάλης, ἐπειδὴ πλείους ἑώρα ἐφισταμένους, τούτους ἐπηλυγισάμενος προσέστη ᾗ μὴ ᾤετο κατόψεσθαι τὸν λύσιν, δεδιὼς μὴ αὐτῷ ἀπεχθάνοιτο: καὶ οὕτω προσεστὼς ἠκροᾶτο.


καὶ ἐγὼ πρὸς τὸν Μενέξενον ἀποβλέψας, ὦ παῖ Δημοφῶντος,
207b
till Menexenus stepped in for a moment from his game in the court and, on seeing me and Ctesippus, came to take a seat beside us. When Lysis saw him, he came along too and sat down with Menexenus. Then all the others came to us also; and I must add that Hippothales, when he saw a good many of them standing there, stood so as to be screened by them, in a position where he thought Lysis would not catch sight of him, as he feared that he might irritate him; in this way he stood by and listened.


Then I, looking at Menexenus, asked him: Son of Demophon, which is the elder of you two?


It is a point in dispute between us, he replied.
207c
ἦν δ' ἐγώ, πότερος ὑμῶν πρεσβύτερος;


ἀμφισβητοῦμεν, ἔφη.


οὐκοῦν καὶ ὁπότερος γενναιότερος, ἐρίζοιτ' ἄν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ.


πάνυ γε, ἔφη.


καὶ μὴν ὁπότερός γε καλλίων, ὡσαύτως.


ἐγελασάτην οὖν ἄμφω.


οὐ μὴν ὁπότερός γε, ἔφην, πλουσιώτερος ὑμῶν, οὐκ ἐρήσομαι: φίλω γάρ ἐστον. ἦ γάρ;


πάνυ γ', ἐφάτην.


οὐκοῦν κοινὰ τά γε φίλων λέγεται, ὥστε τούτῳ γε οὐδὲν διοίσετον, εἴπερ ἀληθῆ περὶ τῆς φιλίας λέγετον.


συνεφάτην.
207c
Then you must also be at variance, I said, as to which is the nobler.


Yes, to be sure, he said.


And moreover, which is the more beautiful, likewise.


This made them both laugh.


But of course I shall not ask, I said, which of you is the wealthier; for you are friends, are you not?


Certainly we are, they replied.


And, you know, friends are said to have everything in common, so that here at least there will be no difference between you, if what you say of your friendship is true.


They agreed.
207d
ἐπεχείρουν δὴ μετὰ τοῦτο ἐρωτᾶν ὁπότερος δικαιότερος καὶ σοφώτερος αὐτῶν εἴη. μεταξὺ οὖν τις προσελθὼν ἀνέστησε τὸν Μενέξενον, φάσκων καλεῖν τὸν παιδοτρίβην: ἐδόκει γάρ μοι ἱεροποιῶν τυγχάνειν. ἐκεῖνος μὲν οὖν ᾤχετο: ἐγὼ δὲ τὸν λύσιν ἠρόμην, ἦ που, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ Λύσι, σφόδρα φιλεῖ σε ὁ πατὴρ καὶ ἡ μήτηρ;
πάνυ γε, ἦ δ' ὅς.
οὐκοῦν βούλοιντο ἄν σε ὡς εὐδαιμονέστατον εἶναι;
207d
After that I was proceeding to ask them which was the juster and wiser of the two, when I was interrupted by somebody who came and fetched away Menexenus, saying that the wrestling-master was calling him: I understood that he was taking some part in the rites. So he went off; and then I asked Lysis: I suppose, Lysis, your father and mother are exceedingly fond of you? Yes, to be sure, he replied. Then they would like you to be as happy as possible?
207e
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
δοκεῖ δέ σοι εὐδαίμων εἶναι ἄνθρωπος δουλεύων τε καὶ ᾧ μηδὲν ἐξείη ποιεῖν ὧν ἐπιθυμοῖ;
μὰ Δί' οὐκ ἔμοιγε, ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν εἴ σε φιλεῖ ὁ πατὴρ καὶ ἡ μήτηρ καὶ εὐδαίμονά σε ἐπιθυμοῦσι γενέσθαι, τοῦτο παντὶ τρόπῳ δῆλον ὅτι προθυμοῦνται ὅπως ἂν εὐδαιμονοίης.
πῶς γὰρ οὐχί; ἔφη.
ἐῶσιν ἄρα σε ἃ βούλει ποιεῖν, καὶ οὐδὲν ἐπιπλήττουσιν οὐδὲ διακωλύουσι ποιεῖν ὧν ἂν ἐπιθυμῇς;
ναὶ μὰ Δία ἐμέ γε, ὦ Σώκρατες, καὶ μάλα γε πολλὰ κωλύουσιν.
πῶς λέγεις; ἦν δ' ἐγώ. βουλόμενοί σε μακάριον
207e
Yes, of course. Do you consider that a man is happy when enslaved and restricted from doing everything he desires? Not I, on my word, he said. Then if your father and mother are fond of you, and desire to see you happy, it is perfectly plain that they are anxious to secure your happiness. They must be, of course, he said. Hence they allow you to do what you like, and never scold you, or hinder you from doing what you desire? Yes, they do, Socrates, I assure you: they stop me from doing a great many things. How do you mean? I said: they wish you
208a
εἶναι διακωλύουσι τοῦτο ποιεῖν ὃ ἂν βούλῃ; ὧδε δέ μοι λέγε. ἢν ἐπιθυμήσῃς ἐπί τινος τῶν τοῦ πατρὸς ἁρμάτων ὀχεῖσθαι λαβὼν τὰς ἡνίας, ὅταν ἁμιλλᾶται, οὐκ ἂν ἐῷέν σε ἀλλὰ διακωλύοιεν;
μὰ Δί' οὐ μέντοι ἄν, ἔφη, ἐῷεν.
ἀλλὰ τίνα μήν;
ἔστιν τις ἡνίοχος παρὰ τοῦ πατρὸς μισθὸν φέρων.
πῶς λέγεις; μισθωτῷ μᾶλλον ἐπιτρέπουσιν ἢ σοὶ ποιεῖν ὅτι ἂν βούληται περὶ τοὺς ἵππους, καὶ προσέτι
208a
to be happy, and yet hinder you from doing what you like? But answer me this: suppose you desire to ride in one of your father's chariots and hold the reins in some race; they will not allow you, but will prevent you? That is so, to be sure, he said; they will not allow me. But whom would they allow? There is a driver, in my father's pay. What do you say? A hireling, whom they trust rather than you, so that he can do whatever he pleases with the horses; and they pay him besides a salary for doing that!
208b
αὐτοῦ τούτου ἀργύριον τελοῦσιν;
ἀλλὰ τί μήν; ἔφη.
ἀλλὰ τοῦ ὀρικοῦ ζεύγους οἶμαι ἐπιτρέπουσίν σοι ἄρχειν, κἂν εἰ βούλοιο λαβὼν τὴν μάστιγα τύπτειν, ἐῷεν ἄν.
πόθεν, ἦ δ' ὅς, ἐῷεν;
τί δέ; ἦν δ' ἐγώ: οὐδενὶ ἔξεστιν αὐτοὺς τύπτειν;
καὶ μάλα, ἔφη, τῷ ὀρεοκόμῳ.
δούλῳ ὄντι ἢ ἐλευθέρῳ;
δούλῳ, ἔφη.
καὶ δοῦλον, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἡγοῦνται περὶ πλείονος ἢ σὲ τὸν ὑόν, καὶ ἐπιτρέπουσι τὰ ἑαυτῶν μᾶλλον ἢ σοί, καὶ ἐῶσιν ποιεῖν ὅτι βούλεται, σὲ δὲ
208b
Why, of course, he said. Well, but they trust you with the control of the mule-cart, and if you wanted to take the whip and lash the team, they would let you? Nothing of the sort, he said. Why, I asked, is nobody allowed to lash them? Oh yes, he said, the muleteer. Is he a slave, or free? A slave, he replied. So it seems that they value a slave more highly than you, their son, and entrust him rather than you with their property,
208c
διακωλύουσι; καί μοι ἔτι τόδε εἰπέ. σὲ αὐτὸν ἐῶσιν ἄρχειν σεαυτοῦ, ἢ οὐδὲ τοῦτο ἐπιτρέπουσί σοι;
πῶς γάρ, ἔφη, ἐπιτρέπουσιν;
ἀλλ' ἄρχει τίς σου;
ὅδε, παιδαγωγός, ἔφη.
μῶν δοῦλος ὤν;
ἀλλὰ τί μήν; ἡμέτερός γε, ἔφη.
ἦ δεινόν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ἐλεύθερον ὄντα ὑπὸ δούλου ἄρχεσθαι. τί δὲ ποιῶν αὖ οὗτος ὁ παιδαγωγός σου ἄρχει;
ἄγων δήπου, ἔφη, εἰς διδασκάλου.
μῶν μὴ καὶ οὗτοί σου ἄρχουσιν, οἱ
208c
and allow him to do what he likes, while preventing you? And now there is one thing more you must tell me. Do they let you control your own self, or will they not trust you in that either? Of course they do not, he replied. But some one controls you? Yes, he said, my tutor
here. Is he a slave? Why, certainly; he belongs to us, he said. What a strange thing, I exclaimed; a free man controlled by a slave! But how does this tutor actually exert his control over you? By taking me to school, I suppose, he replied. And your schoolmasters, can it be that they also control you?
208d
διδάσκαλοι;
πάντως δήπου.
παμπόλλους ἄρα σοι δεσπότας καὶ ἄρχοντας ἑκὼν ὁ πατὴρ ἐφίστησιν. ἀλλ' ἆρα ἐπειδὰν οἴκαδε ἔλθῃς παρὰ τὴν μητέρα, ἐκείνη σε ἐᾷ ποιεῖν ὅτι ἂν βούλῃ, ἵν' αὐτῇ μακάριος ᾖς, ἢ περὶ τὰ ἔρια ἢ περὶ τὸν ἱστόν, ὅταν ὑφαίνῃ; οὔ τι γάρ που διακωλύει σε ἢ τῆς σπάθης ἢ τῆς κερκίδος ἢ ἄλλου του τῶν περὶ ταλασιουργίαν ὀργάνων ἅπτεσθαι.
καὶ ὃς γελάσας, μὰ Δία, ἔφη, ὦ
208d
I should think they do! Then quite a large number of masters and controllers are deliberately set over you by your father. But when you come home to your mother, she surely lets you do what you like, that she may make you happy, either with her wool or her loom, when she is weaving? I take it she does not prevent you from handling her batten, or her comb, or any other of her wool-work implements. At this he laughed and said: I promise you, Socrates, not only does she prevent me, but I should get a beating as well,
208e
Σώκρατες, οὐ μόνον γε διακωλύει, ἀλλὰ καὶ τυπτοίμην ἂν εἰ ἁπτοίμην.
Ἡράκλεις, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, μῶν μή τι ἠδίκηκας τὸν πατέρα ἢ τὴν μητέρα;
μὰ Δί' οὐκ ἔγωγε, ἔφη.


ἀλλ' ἀντὶ τίνος μὴν οὕτω σε δεινῶς διακωλύουσιν εὐδαίμονα εἶναι καὶ ποιεῖν ὅτι ἂν βούλῃ, καὶ δι' ἡμέρας ὅλης τρέφουσί σε ἀεί τῳ δουλεύοντα καὶ ἑνὶ λόγῳ ὀλίγου ὧν ἐπιθυμεῖς οὐδὲν ποιοῦντα; ὥστε σοι, ὡς ἔοικεν, οὔτε τῶν χρημάτων τοσούτων ὄντων οὐδὲν ὄφελος, ἀλλὰ πάντες
208e
if I laid hands on them. Good heavens! I said; can it be that you have done your father or mother some wrong? On my word, no, he replied.


Well, what reason can they have for so strangely preventing you from being happy and doing what you like? Why do they maintain you all day long in constant servitude to somebody, so that, in a word, you do hardly a single thing that you desire? And thus, it would seem, you get no advantage from all your great possessions—
209a
αὐτῶν μᾶλλον ἄρχουσιν ἢ σύ, οὔτε τοῦ σώματος οὕτω γενναίου ὄντος, ἀλλὰ καὶ τοῦτο ἄλλος ποιμαίνει καὶ θεραπεύει: σὺ δὲ ἄρχεις οὐδενός, ὦ Λύσι, οὐδὲ ποιεῖς οὐδὲν ὧν ἐπιθυμεῖς.
οὐ γάρ πω, ἔφη, ἡλικίαν ἔχω, ὦ Σώκρατες.
μὴ οὐ τοῦτό σε, ὦ παῖ Δημοκράτους, κωλύῃ, ἐπεὶ τό γε τοσόνδε, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι, καὶ ὁ πατὴρ καὶ ἡ μήτηρ σοι ἐπιτρέπουσιν καὶ οὐκ ἀναμένουσιν ἕως ἂν ἡλικίαν ἔχῃς. ὅταν γὰρ βούλωνται αὑτοῖς τινα ἀναγνωσθῆναι ἢ γραφῆναι, σέ, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι,
209a
nay, anyone else controls them rather than you—nor from your own person, though so well-born, which is also shepherded and managed by another; while you, Lysis, control nobody, and do nothing that you desire. It is because I am not yet of age, Socrates, he said. That can hardly be the hindrance, son of Democrates, since there is a certain amount, I imagine, that your father and mother entrust to you without waiting until you come of age. For when they want some reading or writing done for them, it is you,
209b
πρῶτον τῶν ἐν τῇ οἰκίᾳ ἐπὶ τοῦτο τάττουσιν. ἦ γάρ;
πάνυ γ', ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν ἔξεστί σοι ἐνταῦθ' ὅτι ἂν βούλῃ πρῶτον τῶν γραμμάτων γράφειν καὶ ὅτι ἂν δεύτερον: καὶ ἀναγιγνώσκειν ὡσαύτως ἔξεστιν. καὶ ἐπειδάν, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι, τὴν λύραν λάβῃς, οὐ διακωλύουσί σε οὔτε ὁ πατὴρ οὔτε ἡ μήτηρ ἐπιτεῖναί τε καὶ ἀνεῖναι ἣν ἂν βούλῃ τῶν χορδῶν, καὶ ψῆλαι καὶ κρούειν τῷ πλήκτρῳ. ἢ διακωλύουσιν;
οὐ δῆτα.
τί ποτ' ἂν οὖν εἴη, ὦ Λύσι, τὸ αἴτιον ὅτι ἐνταῦθα
209b
I conceive, whom they appoint to do it before any others of the household. Is it not so? Quite so, he replied. And you are free there to choose which letter you shall write first and which second, and you have a like choice in reading. And, I suppose, when you take your lyre, neither your father nor your mother prevents you from tightening or slackening what string you please, or from using your finger or your plectrum at will: or do they prevent you? Oh, no. Then whatever can be the reason, Lysis, why they do not prevent you here,
209c
μὲν οὐ διακωλύουσιν, ἐν οἷς δὲ ἄρτι ἐλέγομεν κωλύουσι;
ὅτι οἶμαι, ἔφη, ταῦτα μὲν ἐπίσταμαι, ἐκεῖνα δ' οὔ.
εἶεν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ ἄριστε: οὐκ ἄρα τὴν ἡλικίαν σου περιμένει ὁ πατὴρ ἐπιτρέπειν πάντα, ἀλλ' ᾗ ἂν ἡμέρᾳ ἡγήσηταί σε βέλτιον αὑτοῦ φρονεῖν, ταύτῃ ἐπιτρέψει σοι καὶ αὑτὸν καὶ τὰ αὑτοῦ.
οἶμαι ἔγωγε, ἔφη.
εἶεν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ: τί δέ; τῷ γείτονι ἆρ' οὐχ ὁ αὐτὸς ὅρος ὅσπερ τῷ πατρὶ περὶ σοῦ;
209c
while in the matters we were just mentioning they do? I suppose, he said, because I understand these things, but not those others. Very well, I said, my excellent friend: so it is not your coming of age that your father is waiting for, as the time for entrusting you with everything; but on the day when he considers you to have a better intelligence than himself, he will entrust you with himself and all that is his. Yes, I think so, he said. Very well, I went on, but tell me, does not your neighbor observe the same rule as your father towards you? Do you think he will entrust you with the management of his house, as soon as he considers you to have a better idea
209d
πότερον οἴει αὐτὸν ἐπιτρέψειν σοι τὴν αὑτοῦ οἰκίαν οἰκονομεῖν, ὅταν σε ἡγήσηται βέλτιον περὶ οἰκονομίας ἑαυτοῦ φρονεῖν, ἢ αὐτὸν ἐπιστατήσειν;
ἐμοὶ ἐπιτρέψειν οἶμαι.
τί δ'; Ἀθηναίους οἴει σοι οὐκ ἐπιτρέψειν τὰ αὑτῶν, ὅταν αἰσθάνωνται ὅτι ἱκανῶς φρονεῖς;
ἔγωγε.
πρὸς Διός, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, τί ἄρα ὁ μέγας βασιλεύς; πότερον τῷ πρεσβυτάτῳ ὑεῖ, οὗ ἡ τῆς Ἀσίας ἀρχὴ γίγνεται, μᾶλλον ἂν ἐπιτρέψειεν ἑψομένων κρεῶν [ἐμβάλλειν] ὅτι ἂν βούληται ἐμβαλεῖν
209d
of its management than himself, or will he direct it himself? I should say he would entrust it to me. Well then, do you not think that the Athenians will entrust you with their affairs, when they perceive that you have sufficient intelligence? I do. Ah, do let me ask this, I went on: what, pray, of the Great King? Would he allow his eldest son, heir-apparent to the throne of Asia, to put what he chose into the royal stew,
209e
εἰς τὸν ζωμόν, ἢ ἡμῖν, εἰ ἀφικόμενοι παρ' ἐκεῖνον ἐνδειξαίμεθα αὐτῷ ὅτι ἡμεῖς κάλλιον φρονοῦμεν ἢ ὁ ὑὸς αὐτοῦ περὶ ὄψου σκευασίας;
ἡμῖν δῆλον ὅτι, ἔφη.
καὶ τὸν μέν γε οὐδ' ἂν σμικρὸν ἐάσειεν ἐμβαλεῖν: ἡμᾶς δέ, κἂν εἰ βουλοίμεθα δραξάμενοι τῶν ἁλῶν, ἐῴη ἂν ἐμβαλεῖν.
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
τί δ' εἰ τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς ὁ ὑὸς αὐτοῦ ἀσθενοῖ, ἆρα ἐῴη ἂν αὐτὸν ἅπτεσθαι τῶν ἑαυτοῦ
209e
or would he prefer us to do it, supposing we came before him and convinced him that we had a better notion than his son of preparing a tasty dish? Clearly he would prefer us, he said. And he would not allow the prince to put in the smallest bit, whereas he would let us have our way even if we wanted to put in salt by the handful. Why, of course. Again, if his son has something the matter with his eyes, would he let him meddle with them himself, if he considered him to be no doctor,
210a
ὀφθαλμῶν, μὴ ἰατρὸν ἡγούμενος, ἢ κωλύοι ἄν;
κωλύοι ἄν.
ἡμᾶς δέ γε εἰ ὑπολαμβάνοι ἰατρικοὺς εἶναι, κἂν εἰ βουλοίμεθα διανοίγοντες τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς ἐμπάσαι τῆς τέφρας, οἶμαι οὐκ ἂν κωλύσειεν, ἡγούμενος ὀρθῶς φρονεῖν.
ἀληθῆ λέγεις.
ἆρ' οὖν καὶ τἆλλα πάντα ἡμῖν ἐπιτρέποι ἂν μᾶλλον ἢ ἑαυτῷ καὶ τῷ ὑεῖ, περὶ ὅσων ἂν δόξωμεν αὐτῷ σοφώτεροι ἐκείνων εἶναι;
ἀνάγκη, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες.


οὕτως ἄρα ἔχει, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ φίλε Λύσι: εἰς μὲν ταῦτα,
210a
or would he prevent him? He would prevent him. But if he supposed us to have medical skill, he would not prevent us, I imagine, even though we wanted to pull the eyes open and sprinkle them with ashes, so long as he believed our judgement to be sound. That is true. So he would entrust us, rather than himself or his son, with all his other affairs besides, wherever he felt we were more skilled than they? Necessarily, he said, Socrates.


The case then, my dear Lysis, I said, stands thus: with regard to matters
210b
ἃ ἂν φρόνιμοι γενώμεθα, ἅπαντες ἡμῖν ἐπιτρέψουσιν, Ἕλληνές τε καὶ βάρβαροι καὶ ἄνδρες καὶ γυναῖκες, ποιήσομέν τε ἐν τούτοις ὅτι ἂν βουλώμεθα, καὶ οὐδεὶς ἡμᾶς ἑκὼν εἶναι ἐμποδιεῖ, ἀλλ' αὐτοί τε ἐλεύθεροι ἐσόμεθα ἐν αὐτοῖς καὶ ἄλλων ἄρχοντες, ἡμέτερά τε ταῦτα ἔσται—ὀνησόμεθα γὰρ ἀπ' αὐτῶν—εἰς ἃ δ' ἂν νοῦν μὴ κτησώμεθα, οὔτε τις ἡμῖν ἐπιτρέψει περὶ αὐτὰ ποιεῖν τὰ ἡμῖν δοκοῦντα, ἀλλ' ἐμποδιοῦσι
210b
in which we become intelligent, every one will entrust us with them, whether Greeks or foreigners, men or women and in such matters we shall do as we please, and nobody will care to obstruct us. Nay, not only shall we ourselves be free and have control of others in these affairs, but they will also belong to us, since we shall derive advantage from them; whereas in all those for which we have failed to acquire intelligence, so far will anyone be from permitting us to deal with them as we think fit, that everybody will do his utmost to obstruct us—
210c
πάντες καθ' ὅτι ἂν δύνωνται, οὐ μόνον οἱ ἀλλότριοι, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὁ πατὴρ καὶ ἡ μήτηρ καὶ εἴ τι τούτων οἰκειότερόν ἐστιν, αὐτοί τε ἐν αὐτοῖς ἐσόμεθα ἄλλων ὑπήκοοι, καὶ ἡμῖν ἔσται ἀλλότρια: οὐδὲν γὰρ ἀπ' αὐτῶν ὀνησόμεθα. συγχωρεῖς οὕτως ἔχειν;
συγχωρῶ.
ἆρ' οὖν τῳ φίλοι ἐσόμεθα καί τις ἡμᾶς φιλήσει ἐν τούτοις, ἐν οἷς ἂν ὦμεν ἀνωφελεῖς;
οὐ δῆτα, ἔφη.
νῦν ἄρα οὐδὲ σὲ ὁ πατὴρ οὐδὲ ἄλλος ἄλλον οὐδένα φιλεῖ, καθ' ὅσον ἂν ᾖ ἄχρηστος.
οὐκ ἔοικεν,
210c
not merely strangers, but father and mother and any more intimate person than they; and we on our part shall be subject to others in such matters, which will be no concern of ours, since we shall draw no advantage from them. Do you agree to this account of the case? I agree. Then will anyone count us his friends or have any affection for us in those matters for which we are useless? Surely not, he said. So now, you see, your father does not love you, nor does anyone love anyone else, so far as one is useless. Apparently not, he said. Then if you can become wise, my boy,
210d
ἔφη.
ἐὰν μὲν ἄρα σοφὸς γένῃ, ὦ παῖ, πάντες σοι φίλοι καὶ πάντες σοι οἰκεῖοι ἔσονται—χρήσιμος γὰρ καὶ ἀγαθὸς ἔσῃ—εἰ δὲ μή, σοὶ οὔτε ἄλλος οὐδεὶς οὔτε ὁ πατὴρ φίλος ἔσται οὔτε ἡ μήτηρ οὔτε οἱ οἰκεῖοι. οἷόν τε οὖν ἐπὶ τούτοις, ὦ Λύσι, μέγα φρονεῖν, ἐν οἷς τις μήπω φρονεῖ;
καὶ πῶς ἄν; ἔφη.
εἰ δ' ἄρα σὺ διδασκάλου δέῃ, οὔπω φρονεῖς.
ἀληθῆ.
οὐδ' ἄρα μεγαλόφρων εἶ, εἴπερ ἄφρων ἔτι.
μὰ Δία, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὔ μοι δοκεῖ.
210d
everybody will be your friend, every one will be intimate with you, since you will be useful and good; otherwise, no one at all, not your father, nor your mother, nor your intimate connections, will be your friends. Now is it possible, Lysis, to have a high notion of yourself in matters of which you have as yet no notion? Why, how can I? he said. Then if you are in need of a teacher, you have as yet no notion of things? True. Nor can you have a great notion of yourself, if you are still notionless. Upon my word, Socrates, he said, I do not see how I can.
210e
καὶ ἐγὼ ἀκούσας αὐτοῦ ἀπέβλεψα πρὸς τὸν Ἱπποθάλη, καὶ ὀλίγου ἐξήμαρτον: ἐπῆλθε γάρ μοι εἰπεῖν ὅτι οὕτω χρή, ὦ Ἱππόθαλες, τοῖς παιδικοῖς διαλέγεσθαι, ταπεινοῦντα καὶ συστέλλοντα, ἀλλὰ μὴ ὥσπερ σὺ χαυνοῦντα καὶ διαθρύπτοντα. κατιδὼν οὖν αὐτὸν ἀγωνιῶντα καὶ τεθορυβημένον ὑπὸ τῶν λεγομένων, ἀνεμνήσθην ὅτι καὶ προσεστὼς λανθάνειν τὸν λύσιν ἐβούλετο: ἀνέλαβον οὖν ἐμαυτὸν καὶ
210e
On hearing him answer this, I glanced at Hippothales, and nearly made a blunder, for it came into my mind to say: This is the way, Hippothales, in which you should talk to your favorite, humbling and reducing him, instead of puffing him up and spoiling him, as you do now. Well, I noticed that he was in an agony of embarrassment at what we had been saying, and I remembered how, in standing near, he wished to hide himself from Lysis.
211a
ἐπέσχον τοῦ λόγου. καὶ ἐν τούτῳ ὁ Μενέξενος πάλιν ἧκεν, καὶ ἐκαθέζετο παρὰ τὸν λύσιν, ὅθεν καὶ ἐξανέστη. ὁ οὖν Λύσις μάλα παιδικῶς καὶ φιλικῶς, λάθρᾳ τοῦ Μενεξένου, σμικρὸν πρός με λέγων ἔφη: ὦ Σώκρατες, ἅπερ καὶ ἐμοὶ λέγεις, εἰπὲ καὶ Μενεξένῳ.


καὶ ἐγὼ εἶπον, ταῦτα μὲν σὺ αὐτῷ ἐρεῖς, ὦ Λύσι: πάντως γὰρ προσεῖχες τὸν νοῦν.


πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη.


πειρῶ τοίνυν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ἀπομνημονεῦσαι αὐτὰ ὅτι
211a
So I checked myself and withheld this remark. In the meantime, Menexenus came back, and sat down by Lysis in the place he had left on going out. Then Lysis, in a most playful, affectionate manner, unobserved by Menexenus, said softly to me: Socrates, tell Menexenus what you have been saying to me.


To which I replied: You shall tell it him yourself, Lysis; for you gave it your closest attention.


I did, indeed, he said.


Then try, I went on, to recollect it as well as you can,
211b
μάλιστα, ἵνα τούτῳ σαφῶς πάντα εἴπῃς: ἐὰν δέ τι αὐτῶν ἐπιλάθῃ, αὖθίς με ἀνερέσθαι ὅταν ἐντύχῃς πρῶτον.


ἀλλὰ ποιήσω, ἔφη, ταῦτα, ὦ Σώκρατες, πάνυ σφόδρα, εὖ ἴσθι. ἀλλά τι ἄλλο αὐτῷ λέγε, ἵνα καὶ ἐγὼ ἀκούω, ἕως ἂν οἴκαδε ὥρα ᾖ ἀπιέναι.


ἀλλὰ χρὴ ποιεῖν ταῦτα, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ἐπειδή γε καὶ σὺ κελεύεις. ἀλλὰ ὅρα ὅπως ἐπικουρήσεις μοι, ἐάν με ἐλέγχειν ἐπιχειρῇ ὁ Μενέξενος: ἢ οὐκ οἶσθα ὅτι ἐριστικός ἐστιν;


ναὶ μὰ Δία, ἔφη, σφόδρα γε: διὰ ταῦτά τοι καὶ βούλομαί
211b
so that you tell him the whole of it clearly: but if you forget any of it, mind that you ask me for it again when next you meet me.


I will do so, Socrates, he said, by all means, I assure you. But tell him something else, that I may hear it too, until it is time to go home.


Well, I must do so, I said, since it is you who bid me. But be ready to come to my support, in case Menexenus attempts to refute me. You know what a keen disputant he is.


Yes, on my word, very keen; that is why I want you to have a talk with him.
211c
σε αὐτῷ διαλέγεσθαι.


ἵνα, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, καταγέλαστος γένωμαι;


οὐ μὰ Δία, ἔφη, ἀλλ' ἵνα αὐτὸν κολάσῃς.


πόθεν; ἦν δ' ἐγώ. οὐ ῥᾴδιον: δεινὸς γὰρ ὁ ἄνθρωπος, Κτησίππου μαθητής. πάρεστι δέ τοι αὐτός—οὐχ ὁρᾷς; — Κτήσιππος.


μηδενός σοι, ἔφη, μελέτω, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἀλλ' ἴθι διαλέγου αὐτῷ.


διαλεκτέον, ἦν δ' ἐγώ.


ταῦτα οὖν ἡμῶν λεγόντων πρὸς ἡμᾶς αὐτούς, τί ὑμεῖς, ἔφη ὁ Κτήσιππος, αὐτὼ μόνω ἑστιᾶσθον, ἡμῖν δὲ οὐ
211c
So that I may make myself ridiculous? I said.


No, no, indeed, he replied I want you to trounce him.


How can I? I asked. It is not easy, when the fellow is so formidable—a pupil of Ctesippus. And here—do you not see?—is Ctesippus himself.


Take no heed of anyone, Socrates, he said; just go on and have a talk with him.


I must comply, I said.


Now, as these words passed between us,—What is this feast, said Ctesippus, that you two are having by yourselves, without allowing us a share in your talk?
211d
μεταδίδοτον τῶν λόγων;


ἀλλὰ μήν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, μεταδοτέον. ὅδε γάρ τι ὧν λέγω οὐ μανθάνει, ἀλλά φησιν οἴεσθαι Μενέξενον εἰδέναι, καὶ κελεύει τοῦτον ἐρωτᾶν.


τί οὖν, ἦ δ' ὅς, οὐκ ἐρωτᾷς;


ἀλλ' ἐρήσομαι, ἦν δ' ἐγώ. καί μοι εἰπέ, ὦ Μενέξενε, ὃ ἄν σε ἔρωμαι. τυγχάνω γὰρ ἐκ παιδὸς ἐπιθυμῶν κτήματός του, ὥσπερ ἄλλος ἄλλου. ὁ μὲν γάρ τις ἵππους
211d
Well, well, I replied, we must give you a share. My friend here fails to understand something that I have been saying, but tells me he thinks Menexenus knows, and he urges me to question him.


Why not ask him then? said he.


But I am going to, I replied. Now please answer, Menexenus, whatever question I may ask you. There is a certain possession that I have desired from my childhood, as every one does in his own way. One person wants to get possession of horses,
211e
ἐπιθυμεῖ κτᾶσθαι, ὁ δὲ κύνας, ὁ δὲ χρυσίον, ὁ δὲ τιμάς: ἐγὼ δὲ πρὸς μὲν ταῦτα πρᾴως ἔχω, πρὸς δὲ τὴν τῶν φίλων κτῆσιν πάνυ ἐρωτικῶς, καὶ βουλοίμην ἄν μοι φίλον ἀγαθὸν γενέσθαι μᾶλλον ἢ τὸν ἄριστον ἐν ἀνθρώποις ὄρτυγα ἢ ἀλεκτρυόνα, καὶ ναὶ μὰ Δία ἔγωγε μᾶλλον ἢ ἵππον τε καὶ κύνα—οἶμαι δέ, νὴ τὸν κύνα, μᾶλλον ἢ τὸ Δαρείου χρυσίον κτήσασθαι δεξαίμην πολὺ πρότερον ἑταῖρον, μᾶλλον <δὲ> ἢ αὐτὸν Δαρεῖον—οὕτως ἐγὼ φιλέταιρός τίς εἰμι. ὑμᾶς
211e
another dogs, another money, and another distinctions: of these things I reck little, but for the possession of friends I have quite a passionate longing, and would rather obtain a good friend than the best quail or cock in the world; yes, and rather, I swear, than any horse or dog. I believe, indeed, by the Dog, that rather than all Darius's gold I would choose to gain a dear comrade—far sooner than I would Darius himself, so fond I am of my comrades.
212a
οὖν ὁρῶν, σέ τε καὶ λύσιν, ἐκπέπληγμαι καὶ εὐδαιμονίζω ὅτι οὕτω νέοι ὄντες οἷοι τ' ἐστὸν τοῦτο τὸ κτῆμα ταχὺ καὶ ῥᾳδίως κτᾶσθαι, καὶ σύ τε τοῦτον οὕτω φίλον ἐκτήσω ταχύ τε καὶ σφόδρα, καὶ αὖ οὗτος σέ: ἐγὼ δὲ οὕτω πόρρω εἰμὶ τοῦ κτήματος, ὥστε οὐδ' ὅντινα τρόπον γίγνεται φίλος ἕτερος ἑτέρου οἶδα, ἀλλὰ ταῦτα δὴ αὐτά σε βούλομαι ἐρέσθαι ἅτε ἔμπειρον.


καί μοι εἰπέ: ἐπειδάν τίς τινα φιλῇ, πότερος ποτέρου
212a
Accordingly, when I see you and Lysis together, I am quite beside myself, and congratulate you on being able, at such an early age, to gain this possession so quickly and easily; since you, Menexenus, have so quickly and surely acquired his friendship, and he likewise yours: whereas I am so far from acquiring such a thing, that I do not even know in what way one person becomes a friend of another, and am constrained to ask you about this very point, in view of your experience.


Now tell me: when one person loves another, which of the two becomes friend of the other—
212b
φίλος γίγνεται, ὁ φιλῶν τοῦ φιλουμένου ἢ ὁ φιλούμενος τοῦ φιλοῦντος: ἢ οὐδὲν διαφέρει;
οὐδέν, ἔφη, ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ διαφέρειν.
πῶς λέγεις; ἦν δ' ἐγώ: ἀμφότεροι ἄρα ἀλλήλων φίλοι γίγνονται, ἐὰν μόνος ὁ ἕτερος τὸν ἕτερον φιλῇ;
ἔμοιγε, ἔφη, δοκεῖ.
τί δέ; οὐκ ἔστιν φιλοῦντα μὴ ἀντιφιλεῖσθαι ὑπὸ τούτου ὃν ἂν φιλῇ;
ἔστιν.
τί δέ; ἆρα ἔστιν καὶ μισεῖσθαι φιλοῦντα; οἷόν που ἐνίοτε δοκοῦσι καὶ οἱ ἐρασταὶ πάσχειν πρὸς τὰ παιδικά: φιλοῦντες γὰρ
212b
the loving of the loved, or the loved of the loving? Or is there no difference? There is none, he replied, in my opinion. How is that? I said; do you mean that both become friends mutually, when there is only one loving the other? Yes, I think so, he replied. But I ask you, is it not possible for one loving not to be loved by him whom he loves? It is. But again, may he not be even hated while loving? This, I imagine, is the sort of thing that lovers do sometimes seem to incur with their favorites:
212c
ὡς οἷόν τε μάλιστα οἱ μὲν οἴονται οὐκ ἀντιφιλεῖσθαι, οἱ δὲ καὶ μισεῖσθαι. ἢ οὐκ ἀληθὲς δοκεῖ σοι τοῦτο;
σφόδρα γε, ἔφη, ἀληθές.
οὐκοῦν ἐν τῷ τοιούτῳ, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὁ μὲν φιλεῖ, ὁ δὲ φιλεῖται;
ναί.
πότερος οὖν αὐτῶν ποτέρου φίλος ἐστίν; ὁ φιλῶν τοῦ φιλουμένου, ἐάντε καὶ ἀντιφιλῆται ἐάντε καὶ μισῆται, ἢ ὁ φιλούμενος τοῦ φιλοῦντος; ἢ οὐδέτερος αὖ ἐν τῷ τοιούτῳ οὐδετέρου φίλος ἐστίν, ἂν μὴ ἀμφότεροι ἀλλήλους φιλῶσιν;
ἔοικε γοῦν
212c
they love them with all their might, yet they feel either that they are not loved in return, or that they are actually hated. Or do you not think this is true? Very true, he replied. Now in such a case, I went on, the one loves and the other is loved? Yes. Which of the two, then, is a friend of the other? Is the loving a friend of the loved, whether in fact he is loved in return or is even hated, or is the loved a friend of the loving? Or again, is neither of them in such a case friend of the other, if both do not love mutually?
212d
οὕτως ἔχειν.
ἀλλοίως ἄρα νῦν ἡμῖν δοκεῖ ἢ πρότερον ἔδοξεν. τότε μὲν γάρ, εἰ ὁ ἕτερος φιλοῖ, φίλω εἶναι ἄμφω: νῦν δέ, ἂν μὴ ἀμφότεροι φιλῶσιν, οὐδέτερος φίλος.
κινδυνεύει, ἔφη.
οὐκ ἄρα ἐστὶν φίλον τῷ φιλοῦντι οὐδὲν μὴ οὐκ ἀντιφιλοῦν.
οὐκ ἔοικεν.
οὐδ' ἄρα φίλιπποί εἰσιν οὓς ἂν οἱ ἵπποι μὴ ἀντιφιλῶσιν, οὐδὲ φιλόρτυγες, οὐδ' αὖ φιλόκυνές γε καὶ φίλοινοι καὶ φιλογυμνασταὶ καὶ φιλόσοφοι, ἂν μὴ ἡ σοφία αὐτοὺς ἀντιφιλῇ. ἢ φιλοῦσι μὲν ταῦτα
212d
At any rate, he said, it looks as if this were so. So you see, we now hold a different view from what we held before. At first we said that if one of them loved, both were friends: but now, if both do not love, neither is a friend. It looks like it, he said. So there is no such thing as a friend for the lover who is not loved in return. Apparently not. And so we find no horse-lovers where the horses do not love in return, no quail-lovers, dog-lovers, wine-lovers, or sport-lovers on such terms, nor any lovers of wisdom if she returns not their love. Or does each person love these things,
212e
ἕκαστοι, οὐ μέντοι φίλα ὄντα, ἀλλὰ ψεύδεθ' ὁ ποιητής, ὃς ἔφη— “ὄλβιος, ᾧ παῖδές τε φίλοι καὶ μώνυχες ἵπποι καὶ κύνες ἀγρευταὶ καὶ ξένος ἀλλοδαπός;”
οὐκ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ, ἦ δ' ὅς.
ἀλλ' ἀληθῆ δοκεῖ λέγειν σοι;
ναί.
τὸ φιλούμενον ἄρα τῷ φιλοῦντι φίλον ἐστίν, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὦ Μενέξενε, ἐάντε φιλῇ ἐάντε καὶ μισῇ: οἷον καὶ τὰ νεωστὶ γεγονότα παιδία, τὰ μὲν οὐδέπω φιλοῦντα, τὰ
212e
while yet failing to make friends of them, and was it a lying poet who said— “Happy to have your children as friends, and your trampling horses, Scent-snuffing hounds, and a host when you travel abroad?”


I do not think so, he said. But do you think he spoke the truth? Yes. Then the loved object is a friend to the lover, it would seem, Menexenus, alike whether it loves or hates: for instance, new-born children,
213a
δὲ καὶ μισοῦντα, ὅταν κολάζηται ὑπὸ τῆς μητρὸς ἢ ὑπὸ τοῦ πατρός, ὅμως καὶ μισοῦντα ἐν ἐκείνῳ τῷ χρόνῳ πάντων μάλιστά ἐστι τοῖς γονεῦσι φίλτατα.
ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ, ἔφη, οὕτως ἔχειν.
οὐκ ἄρα ὁ φιλῶν φίλος ἐκ τούτου τοῦ λόγου, ἀλλ' ὁ φιλούμενος.
ἔοικεν.
καὶ ὁ μισούμενος ἐχθρὸς ἄρα, ἀλλ' οὐχ ὁ μισῶν.
φαίνεται.
πολλοὶ ἄρα ὑπὸ τῶν ἐχθρῶν φιλοῦνται, ὑπὸ δὲ τῶν φίλων μισοῦνται, καὶ τοῖς
213a
who have either not begun to love, or already hate, if punished by their mother or their father, are yet at that very moment, and in spite of their hate, especially and pre-eminently friends to their parents. I think, he said, that is the case. Then this argument shows that it is not the lover who is a friend, but the loved. Apparently. And it is the hated who is an enemy, not the hater. Evidently. Then people must often be loved by their enemies, and hated by their friends, and be friends to their enemies and enemies to their friends,
213b
μὲν ἐχθροῖς φίλοι εἰσίν, τοῖς δὲ φίλοις ἐχθροί, εἰ τὸ φιλούμενον φίλον ἐστὶν ἀλλὰ μὴ τὸ φιλοῦν. καίτοι πολλὴ ἀλογία, ὦ φίλε ἑταῖρε, μᾶλλον δὲ οἶμαι καὶ ἀδύνατον, τῷ τε φίλῳ ἐχθρὸν καὶ τῷ ἐχθρῷ φίλον εἶναι.
ἀληθῆ, ἔφη, ἔοικας λέγειν, ὦ Σώκρατες.
οὐκοῦν εἰ τοῦτ' ἀδύνατον, τὸ φιλοῦν ἂν εἴη φίλον τοῦ φιλουμένου.
φαίνεται.
τὸ μισοῦν ἄρα πάλιν ἐχθρὸν τοῦ μισουμένου.
ἀνάγκη.
οὐκοῦν ταὐτὰ ἡμῖν συμβήσεται ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι ὁμολογεῖν,
213b
if the loved object is a friend rather than the loving agent. And yet it is a gross absurdity, my dear friend—I should say rather, an impossibility—that one should be an enemy to one's friend and a friend to one's enemy. You appear to be right there, Socrates, he said. Then if that is impossible, it is the loving that must be a friend of the loved. Evidently. And so the hating, on the other hand, will be an enemy of the hated. Necessarily. Hence in the end we shall find ourselves compelled to agree
213c
ἅπερ ἐπὶ τῶν πρότερον, πολλάκις φίλον εἶναι μὴ φίλου, πολλάκις δὲ καὶ ἐχθροῦ, ὅταν ἢ μὴ φιλοῦν τις φιλῇ ἢ καὶ μισοῦν φιλῇ: πολλάκις δ' ἐχθρὸν εἶναι μὴ ἐχθροῦ ἢ καὶ φίλου, ὅταν ἢ <μὴ> μισοῦν τις μισῇ ἢ καὶ φιλοῦν μισῇ.
κινδυνεύει, ἔφη.
τί οὖν δὴ χρησώμεθα, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, εἰ μήτε οἱ φιλοῦντες φίλοι ἔσονται μήτε οἱ φιλούμενοι μήτε οἱ φιλοῦντές τε καὶ φιλούμενοι; ἀλλὰ καὶ παρὰ ταῦτα ἄλλους τινὰς ἔτι φήσομεν εἶναι φίλους ἀλλήλοις γιγνομένους;
οὐ μὰ τὸν Δία, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὐ πάνυ εὐπορῶ ἔγωγε.
213c
to the same statement as we made before, that frequently a man is a friend of one who is no friend, and frequently even of an enemy, when he loves one who loves not, or even hates; while frequently a man may be an enemy of one who is no enemy or even a friend, when he hates one who hates not, or even loves.
It looks like it, he said. What then are we to make of it, I asked, if neither the loving are to be friends, nor the loved, nor both the loving and loved together?
For apart from these, are there any others left for us to cite as becoming friends to one another? For my part, Socrates, he said, I declare I can see no sort of shift.
213d
ἆρα μή, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ Μενέξενε, τὸ παράπαν οὐκ ὀρθῶς ἐζητοῦμεν;
οὐκ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἔφη, ὁ Λύσις, καὶ ἅμα εἰπὼν ἠρυθρίασεν: ἐδόκει γάρ μοι ἄκοντ' αὐτὸν ἐκφεύγειν τὸ λεχθὲν διὰ τὸ σφόδρα προσέχειν τὸν νοῦν τοῖς λεγομένοις, δῆλος δ' ἦν καὶ ὅτε ἠκροᾶτο οὕτως ἔχων.


ἐγὼ οὖν βουλόμενος τόν τε Μενέξενον ἀναπαῦσαι καὶ ἐκείνου ἡσθεὶς τῇ φιλοσοφίᾳ, οὕτω μεταβαλὼν πρὸς τὸν
213d
Can it be, Menexenus, I asked, that all through there has been something wrong with our inquiry? I think there has, Socrates, said Lysis, and blushed as soon as he said it; for it struck me that the words escaped him unintentionally, through his closely applying his mind to our talk—as he had noticeably done all the time he was listening.


So then, as I wanted to give Menexenus a rest, and was delighted with the other's taste for philosophy, I took occasion to shift the discussion over to Lysis, and said:
213e
λύσιν ἐποιούμην τοὺς λόγους, καὶ εἶπον: ὦ Λύσι, ἀληθῆ μοι δοκεῖς λέγειν ὅτι εἰ ὀρθῶς ἡμεῖς ἐσκοποῦμεν, οὐκ ἄν ποτε οὕτως ἐπλανώμεθα. ἀλλὰ ταύτῃ μὲν μηκέτι ἴωμεν— καὶ γὰρ χαλεπή τίς μοι φαίνεται ὥσπερ ὁδὸς ἡ σκέψις—ᾗ δὲ ἐτράπημεν, δοκεῖ μοι χρῆναι ἰέναι, σκοποῦντα [τὰ] κατὰ
213e
Lysis, I think your remark is true, that if we were inquiring correctly we could never have gone so sadly astray. Well, let us follow our present line no further, since our inquiry looks to me a rather hard sort of path: I think we had best make for the point where we turned off,
214a
τοὺς ποιητάς: οὗτοι γὰρ ἡμῖν ὥσπερ πατέρες τῆς σοφίας εἰσὶν καὶ ἡγεμόνες. λέγουσι δὲ δήπου οὐ φαύλως ἀποφαινόμενοι περὶ τῶν φίλων, οἳ τυγχάνουσιν ὄντες: ἀλλὰ τὸν θεὸν αὐτόν φασιν ποιεῖν φίλους αὐτούς, ἄγοντα παρ' ἀλλήλους. λέγουσι δέ πως ταῦτα, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι, ὡδί— “αἰεί τοι τὸν ὁμοῖον ἄγει θεὸς ὡς τὸν ὁμοῖον”
214a
and be guided by the poets; for they are our fathers, as it were, and conductors in wisdom. They, of course, express themselves in no mean sort on the subject of friends, where they happen to be found; even saying that God himself makes them friends by drawing them to each other. The way they put it, I believe, is something like this: “Yea, ever like and like together God doth draw,”
214b
καὶ ποιεῖ γνώριμον: ἢ οὐκ ἐντετύχηκας τούτοις τοῖς ἔπεσιν;
ἔγωγ', ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν καὶ τοῖς τῶν σοφωτάτων συγγράμμασιν ἐντετύχηκας ταῦτα αὐτὰ λέγουσιν, ὅτι τὸ ὅμοιον τῷ ὁμοίῳ ἀνάγκη ἀεὶ φίλον εἶναι; εἰσὶν δέ που οὗτοι οἱ περὶ φύσεώς τε καὶ τοῦ ὅλου διαλεγόμενοι καὶ γράφοντες.
ἀληθῆ, ἔφη, λέγεις.
ἆρ' οὖν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, εὖ λέγουσιν;
ἴσως, ἔφη.
ἴσως, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, τὸ ἥμισυ αὐτοῦ, ἴσως δὲ καὶ πᾶν, ἀλλ' ἡμεῖς οὐ συνίεμεν. δοκεῖ γὰρ ἡμῖν ὅ γε πονηρὸς
214b
and so brings them acquainted; or have you not come across these verses? Yes, I have, he replied. And you have also come across those writings of eminent sages, which tell us this very thing—that like must needs be always friend to like? I refer, of course, to those who debate or write about nature and the universe.
Quite so, he said. Well now, I went on, are they right in what they say? Perhaps, he replied. Perhaps in one half of it, I said; perhaps in even the whole; only we do not comprehend it. We suppose that the nearer a wicked man
214c
τῷ πονηρῷ, ὅσῳ ἂν ἐγγυτέρω προσίῃ καὶ μᾶλλον ὁμιλῇ, τοσούτῳ ἐχθίων γίγνεσθαι. ἀδικεῖ γάρ: ἀδικοῦντας δὲ καὶ ἀδικουμένους ἀδύνατόν που φίλους εἶναι. οὐχ οὕτως;
ναί, ἦ δ' ὅς.
ταύτῃ μὲν ἂν τοίνυν τοῦ λεγομένου τὸ ἥμισυ οὐκ ἀληθὲς εἴη, εἴπερ οἱ πονηροὶ ἀλλήλοις ὅμοιοι.
ἀληθῆ λέγεις.
ἀλλά μοι δοκοῦσιν λέγειν τοὺς ἀγαθοὺς ὁμοίους εἶναι ἀλλήλοις καὶ φίλους, τοὺς δὲ κακούς, ὅπερ καὶ λέγεται περὶ αὐτῶν, μηδέποτε ὁμοίους μηδ' αὐτοὺς αὑτοῖς εἶναι, ἀλλ'
214c
approaches to a wicked man, and the more he consorts with him, the more hateful he becomes; for he injures him, and we consider it impossible that injurer and injured should be friends. Is it not so? Yes, he answered. On this showing, therefore, half of the saying cannot be true, if the wicked are like one another. Quite so. What I believe they mean is that the good are like one another, and are friends, while the bad—as is also said of them—are never like even their own selves,
214d
ἐμπλήκτους τε καὶ ἀσταθμήτους: ὃ δὲ αὐτὸ αὑτῷ ἀνόμοιον εἴη καὶ διάφορον, σχολῇ γέ τῳ ἄλλῳ ὅμοιον ἢ φίλον γένοιτ' ἄν. ἢ οὐ καὶ σοὶ δοκεῖ οὕτως;
ἔμοιγ', ἔφη.
τοῦτο τοίνυν αἰνίττονται, ὡς ἐμοὶ δοκοῦσιν, ὦ ἑταῖρε, οἱ τὸ ὅμοιον τῷ ὁμοίῳ φίλον λέγοντες, ὡς ὁ ἀγαθὸς τῷ ἀγαθῷ μόνος μόνῳ φίλος, ὁ δὲ κακὸς οὔτε ἀγαθῷ οὔτε κακῷ οὐδέποτε εἰς ἀληθῆ φιλίαν ἔρχεται. συνδοκεῖ σοι;
κατένευσεν.
ἔχομεν ἄρα ἤδη τίνες εἰσὶν οἱ φίλοι: ὁ γὰρ λόγος ἡμῖν
214d
being so ill-balanced and unsteady; and when a thing is unlike itself and variable it can hardly become like or friend to anything else. You must surely agree to that? I do, he said. Hence I conclude there is a hidden meaning, dear friend, intended by those who say that like is friend to like, namely that the good alone is friend to the good alone, while the bad never enters into true friendship with either good or bad. Do you agree? He nodded assent.
214e
σημαίνει ὅτι οἳ ἂν ὦσιν ἀγαθοί.
πάνυ γε, ἔφη, δοκεῖ.


καὶ ἐμοί, ἦν δ' ἐγώ. καίτοι δυσχεραίνω τί γε ἐν αὐτῷ: φέρε οὖν, ὦ πρὸς Διός, ἴδωμεν τί καὶ ὑποπτεύω. ὁ ὅμοιος τῷ ὁμοίῳ καθ' ὅσον ὅμοιος φίλος, καὶ ἔστιν χρήσιμος ὁ τοιοῦτος τῷ τοιούτῳ; μᾶλλον δὲ ὧδε: ὁτιοῦν ὅμοιον ὁτῳοῦν ὁμοίῳ τίνα ὠφελίαν ἔχειν ἢ τίνα βλάβην ἂν ποιῆσαι δύναιτο, ὃ μὴ καὶ αὐτὸ αὑτῷ; ἢ τί ἂν παθεῖν, ὃ μὴ καὶ ὑφ'
214e
So now we can tell what friends are; since our argument discloses that they are any persons who may be good. I quite think so, said he.


And I also, said I; and yet there is a point in it that makes me uneasy: so come, in Heaven's name, let us make out what it is that I suspect. like friend to like in so far as he is like, and is such an one useful to his fellow? Let me put it another way: when anything whatever is like anything else, what benefit can it offer, or what harm can it do, to its like, which it could not offer or do to itself? Or what could be done to it that could not be done to it by itself?
215a
αὑτοῦ πάθοι; τὰ δὴ τοιαῦτα πῶς ἂν ὑπ' ἀλλήλων ἀγαπηθείη, μηδεμίαν ἐπικουρίαν ἀλλήλοις ἔχοντα; ἔστιν ὅπως;
οὐκ ἔστιν.
ὃ δὲ μὴ ἀγαπῷτο, πῶς φίλον;
οὐδαμῶς.
ἀλλὰ δὴ ὁ μὲν ὅμοιος τῷ ὁμοίῳ οὐ φίλος: ὁ δὲ ἀγαθὸς τῷ ἀγαθῷ καθ' ὅσον ἀγαθός, οὐ καθ' ὅσον ὅμοιος, φίλος ἂν εἴη;
ἴσως.
τί δέ; οὐχ ὁ ἀγαθός, καθ' ὅσον ἀγαθός, κατὰ τοσοῦτον ἱκανὸς ἂν εἴη αὑτῷ;
ναί.
ὁ δέ γε ἱκανὸς οὐδενὸς δεόμενος κατὰ τὴν ἱκανότητα.
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
ὁ δὲ μή του
215a
How can such things be cherished by each other, when they can bring no mutual succor? Is it at all possible? No. And how can that be a friend, which is not cherished? By no means. But, granting that like is not friend to like, the good may still be friend to the good in so far as he is good, not as he is like? Perhaps. But again, will not the good, in so far as he is good, be in that measure sufficient for himself? Yes. And the sufficient has no need of anything,
215b
δεόμενος οὐδέ τι ἀγαπῴη ἄν.
οὐ γὰρ οὖν.
ὃ δὲ μὴ ἀγαπῴη, οὐδ' ἂν φιλοῖ.
οὐ δῆτα.
ὁ δὲ μὴ φιλῶν γε οὐ φίλος.
οὐ φαίνεται.
πῶς οὖν οἱ ἀγαθοὶ τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς ἡμῖν φίλοι ἔσονται τὴν ἀρχήν, οἳ μήτε ἀπόντες ποθεινοὶ ἀλλήλοις—ἱκανοὶ γὰρ ἑαυτοῖς καὶ χωρὶς ὄντες—μήτε παρόντες χρείαν αὑτῶν ἔχουσιν; τοὺς δὴ τοιούτους τίς μηχανὴ περὶ πολλοῦ ποιεῖσθαι ἀλλήλους;
οὐδεμία, ἔφη.
φίλοι
215b
by virtue of his sufficiency.
Of course. And if a man has no need of anything he will not cherish anything. Presumably not. And that which does not cherish will not love. I should think not. And one who loves not is no friend. Evidently. So how can we say that the good will be friends to the good at all, when neither in absence do they long for one another—for they are sufficient for themselves even when apart—nor in presence have they need of one another? How can it be contrived that such persons shall value each other highly? By no means, he said.
215c
δέ γε οὐκ ἂν εἶεν μὴ περὶ πολλοῦ ποιούμενοι ἑαυτούς.
ἀληθῆ.


ἄθρει δή, ὦ Λύσι, πῇ παρακρουόμεθα. ἆρά γε ὅλῳ τινὶ ἐξαπατώμεθα;
πῶς δή; ἔφη.
ἤδη ποτέ του ἤκουσα λέγοντος, καὶ ἄρτι ἀναμιμνῄσκομαι, ὅτι τὸ μὲν ὅμοιον τῷ ὁμοίῳ καὶ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς πολεμιώτατοι εἶεν: καὶ δὴ καὶ τὸν Ἡσίοδον ἐπήγετο μάρτυρα, λέγων ὡς ἄρα— “καὶ κεραμεὺς κεραμεῖ κοτέει καὶ ἀοιδὸς ἀοιδῷ”
215c
And if they do not set a high value on each other, they cannot be friends. True.


Now observe, Lysis, how we are missing the track. Can it be, indeed, that we are deceived in the whole matter? How so? he asked. Once on a time I heard somebody say, and I have just recollected it, that like was most hostile to like, and so were good men to good men; and what is more, he put forward Hesiod as witness, by quoting his words— “See potter wroth with potter, bard with bard,”
215d
“καὶ πτωχὸς πτωχῷ, . . .” καὶ τἆλλα δὴ πάντα οὕτως ἔφη ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι μάλιστα τὰ ὁμοιότατα <πρὸσ> ἄλληλα φθόνου τε καὶ φιλονικίας καὶ ἔχθρας ἐμπίμπλασθαι, τὰ δ' ἀνομοιότατα φιλίας: τὸν γὰρ πένητα τῷ πλουσίῳ ἀναγκάζεσθαι φίλον εἶναι καὶ τὸν ἀσθενῆ τῷ ἰσχυρῷ τῆς ἐπικουρίας ἕνεκα, καὶ τὸν κάμνοντα τῷ ἰατρῷ, καὶ πάντα δὴ τὸν μὴ εἰδότα ἀγαπᾶν τὸν εἰδότα καὶ φιλεῖν.
215d
“Beggar with beggar,” and in all other cases it was the same, he said; likest things must needs be filled with envy, contention, and hatred against each other, but the unlikest things with friendship: since the poor man must needs be friendly to the rich, and the weak to the strong, for the sake of assistance, and also the sick man to the doctor; and every ignorant person had to cherish the well-informed, and love him. And then the speaker pursued his theme to this further and more imposing point—that like could not in the slightest degree be friendly to like,
215e
καὶ δὴ καὶ ἔτι ἐπεξῄει τῷ λόγῳ μεγαλοπρεπέστερον, λέγων ὡς ἄρα παντὸς δέοι τὸ ὅμοιον τῷ ὁμοίῳ φίλον εἶναι, ἀλλ' αὐτὸ τὸ ἐναντίον εἴη τούτου: τὸ γὰρ ἐναντιώτατον τῷ ἐναντιωτάτῳ εἶναι μάλιστα φίλον. ἐπιθυμεῖν γὰρ τοῦ τοιούτου ἕκαστον, ἀλλ' οὐ τοῦ ὁμοίου: τὸ μὲν γὰρ ξηρὸν ὑγροῦ, τὸ δὲ ψυχρὸν θερμοῦ, τὸ δὲ πικρὸν γλυκέος, τὸ δὲ ὀξὺ ἀμβλέος, τὸ δὲ κενὸν πληρώσεως, καὶ τὸ πλῆρες δὲ κενώσεως, καὶ τἆλλα οὕτω κατὰ τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον. τροφὴν γὰρ εἶναι τὸ ἐναντίον τῷ ἐναντίῳ: τὸ γὰρ ὅμοιον τοῦ ὁμοίου
215e
but was in just the opposite case: for it was between things most opposed that friendship was chiefly to be found, since everything desired its opposite, not its like. Thus dry desired wet, cold hot, bitter sweet, sharp blunt, empty fullness, full emptiness, and likewise the rest on the same principle: for the opposite was food for its opposite, as the like
216a
οὐδὲν ἂν ἀπολαῦσαι. καὶ μέντοι, ὦ ἑταῖρε, καὶ κομψὸς ἐδόκει εἶναι ταῦτα λέγων: εὖ γὰρ ἔλεγεν. ὑμῖν δέ, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, πῶς δοκεῖ λέγειν;
εὖ γε, ἔφη ὁ Μενέξενος, ὥς γε οὑτωσὶ ἀκοῦσαι.
φῶμεν ἄρα τὸ ἐναντίον τῷ ἐναντίῳ μάλιστα φίλον εἶναι;
πάνυ γε.
εἶεν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ: οὐκ ἀλλόκοτον, ὦ Μενέξενε; καὶ ἡμῖν εὐθὺς ἅσμενοι ἐπιπηδήσονται οὗτοι οἱ πάσσοφοι ἄνδρες, οἱ ἀντιλογικοί, καὶ ἐρήσονται εἰ
216a
could have no enjoyment of its like. And I must say, my good friend, his argument seemed a smart one, for he expressed it well. But you, I asked—how does it strike you? It sounds all right, said Menexenus, at least on the moment's hearing. Then are we to say that the opposite is most friendly to its opposite? Certainly. Well, I exclaimed, is it not monstrous, Menexenus? Why, at once these all-accomplished logic-choppers will delightedly pounce on us and ask whether hatred is not the most opposite thing to friendship.
216b
οὐκ ἐναντιώτατον ἔχθρα φιλίᾳ; οἷς τί ἀποκρινούμεθα; ἢ οὐκ ἀνάγκη ὁμολογεῖν ὅτι ἀληθῆ λέγουσιν;
ἀνάγκη.
ἆρ' οὖν, φήσουσιν, τὸ ἐχθρὸν τῷ φίλῳ φίλον ἢ τὸ φίλον τῷ ἐχθρῷ;
οὐδέτερα, ἔφη.
ἀλλὰ τὸ δίκαιον τῷ ἀδίκῳ, ἢ τὸ σῶφρον τῷ ἀκολάστῳ, ἢ τὸ ἀγαθὸν τῷ κακῷ;
οὐκ ἄν μοι δοκεῖ οὕτως ἔχειν.
ἀλλὰ μέντοι, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, εἴπερ γε κατὰ τὴν ἐναντιότητά τί τῳ [φίλῳ] φίλον ἐστίν, ἀνάγκη καὶ ταῦτα φίλα εἶναι.
ἀνάγκη.
οὔτε ἄρα τὸ ὅμοιον τῷ ὁμοίῳ οὔτε τὸ ἐναντίον τῷ ἐναντίῳ φίλον.
οὐκ ἔοικεν.
216b
And what answer shall we give them? Shall we not be forced to admit that what they say is true? We shall. So then, they will demand, is a hating thing friend to the friendly thing, or the friendly to the hating? Neither, he replied. But is the just a friend to the unjust, or the temperate to the profligate, or the good to the bad? I do not think that could be so. But yet, I urged, if one thing is friend to another on this principle of opposition, these things too must needs be friends. They must. So neither is like friend to like, nor opposite friend to opposite. It seems not.
216c
ἔτι δὲ καὶ τόδε σκεψώμεθα, μὴ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἡμᾶς λανθάνει τὸ φίλον ὡς ἀληθῶς οὐδὲν τούτων ὄν, ἀλλὰ τὸ μήτε ἀγαθὸν μήτε κακὸν φίλον οὕτω ποτὲ γιγνόμενον τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ.
πῶς, ἦ δ' ὅς, λέγεις;
ἀλλὰ μὰ Δία, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, οὐκ οἶδα, ἀλλὰ τῷ ὄντι αὐτὸς εἰλιγγιῶ ὑπὸ τῆς τοῦ λόγου ἀπορίας, καὶ κινδυνεύει κατὰ τὴν ἀρχαίαν παροιμίαν τὸ καλὸν φίλον εἶναι. ἔοικε γοῦν μαλακῷ τινι καὶ λείῳ καὶ λιπαρῷ:
216c
But there is still this point to consider; for perhaps we are yet more mistaken, and the friendly has really nothing to do with all this: it may rather be something neither good nor bad that will prove after all to be what we call friend of the good. How do you mean? he asked. For the life of me, I said, I cannot tell: the fact is, I am quite dizzy myself with the puzzle of our argument, and am inclined to agree with the ancient proverb that the beautiful is friendly.
It certainly resembles something soft and smooth and sleek;
216d
διὸ καὶ ἴσως ῥᾳδίως διολισθαίνει καὶ διαδύεται ἡμᾶς, ἅτε τοιοῦτον ὄν. λέγω γὰρ τἀγαθὸν καλὸν εἶναι: σὺ δ' οὐκ οἴει;
ἔγωγε.
λέγω τοίνυν ἀπομαντευόμενος, τοῦ καλοῦ τε καὶ ἀγαθοῦ φίλον εἶναι τὸ μήτε ἀγαθὸν μήτε κακόν: πρὸς ἃ δὲ λέγων μαντεύομαι, ἄκουσον. δοκεῖ μοι ὡσπερεὶ τρία ἄττα εἶναι γένη, τὸ μὲν ἀγαθόν, τὸ δὲ κακόν, τὸ δ' οὔτ' ἀγαθὸν οὔτε κακόν: τί δὲ σοί;
καὶ ἐμοί, ἔφη.
καὶ οὔτε τἀγαθὸν τἀγαθῷ οὔτε τὸ κακὸν τῷ κακῷ οὔτε τἀγαθὸν τῷ
216d
that is why, I daresay, it so easily slides and dives right into us, by virtue of those qualities. For I declare that the good is beautiful: do you not agree? I do. Then I will be a diviner for once, and state that what is neither good nor bad is friendly to what is beautiful and good; and what it is that prompts me to this divination, you must now hear. My view is that there are three separate kinds, as it were—the good, the bad, and what is neither good nor bad; and what is yours? Mine is the same, he replied.
216e
κακῷ φίλον εἶναι, ὥσπερ οὐδ' ὁ ἔμπροσθεν λόγος ἐᾷ: λείπεται δή, εἴπερ τῴ τί ἐστιν φίλον, τὸ μήτε ἀγαθὸν μήτε κακὸν φίλον εἶναι ἢ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ ἢ τοῦ τοιούτου οἷον αὐτό ἐστιν. οὐ γὰρ ἄν που τῷ κακῷ φίλον ἄν τι γένοιτο.
ἀληθῆ.
οὐδὲ μὴν τὸ ὅμοιον τῷ ὁμοίῳ ἔφαμεν ἄρτι: ἦ γάρ;
ναί.
οὐκ ἄρα ἔσται τῷ μήτε ἀγαθῷ μήτε κακῷ τὸ τοιοῦτον φίλον οἷον αὐτό.
οὐ φαίνεται.
τῷ ἀγαθῷ ἄρα
216e
And that neither is the good friendly to the good, nor the bad to the bad, nor the good to the bad; so much our previous argument already forbids. One view then remains: if anything is friendly to anything, that which is neither good nor bad is friendly to either the good or what is of the same quality as itself. For I presume nothing could be found friendly to the bad. True. Nor, however, can like be friendly to like: this we stated just now, did we not? Yes. So what is neither good nor bad can have no friendship with the same sort of thing as itself. Apparently not. Then only what is neither good nor bad proves to be friendly to the good,
217a
τὸ μήτε ἀγαθὸν μήτε κακὸν μόνῳ μόνον συμβαίνει γίγνεσθαι φίλον.
ἀνάγκη, ὡς ἔοικεν.


ἆρ' οὖν καὶ καλῶς, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ παῖδες, ὑφηγεῖται ἡμῖν τὸ νῦν λεγόμενον; εἰ γοῦν θέλοιμεν ἐννοῆσαι τὸ ὑγιαῖνον σῶμα, οὐδὲν ἰατρικῆς δεῖται οὐδὲ ὠφελίας: ἱκανῶς γὰρ ἔχει, ὥστε ὑγιαίνων οὐδεὶς ἰατρῷ φίλος διὰ τὴν ὑγίειαν. ἦ γάρ;
οὐδείς.
ἀλλ' ὁ κάμνων οἶμαι διὰ τὴν νόσον.
πῶς γὰρ
217a
and to that only. That must be so, it seems.


Then can we rely further on this present statement, my boys, I said, as a sure guide? For instance, we have only to consider a body in health to see that it has no need of doctoring or assistance: it is well enough as it is, and so no one in health is friend to a doctor, on account of his health. You agree? Yes. But the sick man is, I imagine, on account of his disease. Certainly. Now disease is a bad thing, and medicine is beneficial and good. Yes. And a body, of course, taken as body, is neither good nor bad.
217b
οὔ;
νόσος μὲν δὴ κακόν, ἰατρικὴ δὲ ὠφέλιμον καὶ ἀγαθόν.
ναί.
σῶμα δέ γέ που κατὰ τὸ σῶμα εἶναι οὔτε ἀγαθὸν οὔτε κακόν.
οὕτως.
ἀναγκάζεται δέ γε σῶμα διὰ νόσον ἰατρικὴν ἀσπάζεσθαι καὶ φιλεῖν.
δοκεῖ μοι.
τὸ μήτε κακὸν ἄρα μήτ' ἀγαθὸν φίλον γίγνεται τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ διὰ κακοῦ παρουσίαν.
ἔοικεν.
δῆλον δέ γε ὅτι πρὶν γενέσθαι αὐτὸ κακὸν ὑπὸ τοῦ κακοῦ οὗ ἔχει. οὐ γὰρ δή γε κακὸν γεγονὸς
217b
That is so. But a body is compelled by disease to welcome and love medicine. I think so. Thus what is neither bad nor good becomes a friend of the good because of the presence of evil. So it seems. But clearly this must be before it is itself made evil by the evil which it has; for surely, when once it has been made evil, it can no longer have any desire or love for the good; since we agreed it was impossible
217c
ἔτι ἄν τι τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ [οὗ] ἐπιθυμοῖ καὶ φίλον εἴη: ἀδύνατον γὰρ ἔφαμεν κακὸν ἀγαθῷ φίλον εἶναι.
ἀδύνατον γάρ.
σκέψασθε δὴ ὃ λέγω. λέγω γὰρ ὅτι ἔνια μέν, οἷον ἂν ᾖ τὸ παρόν, τοιαῦτά ἐστι καὶ αὐτά, ἔνια δὲ οὔ. ὥσπερ εἰ ἐθέλοι τις χρώματί τῳ ὁτιοῦν [τι] ἀλεῖψαι, πάρεστίν που τῷ ἀλειφθέντι τὸ ἐπαλειφθέν.
πάνυ γε.
ἆρ' οὖν καὶ ἔστιν τότε τοιοῦτον τὴν χρόαν τὸ ἀλειφθέν, οἷον τὸ ἐπόν;
217c
for bad to be a friend of good. Yes, impossible. Now observe what I say. Some things are of the same sort as those that are present with them, and some are not. For example, if you chose to dye something a certain color, the substance of the dye is present, I presume, with the thing dyed. Certainly. Then is the thing dyed of the same sort, in point of color, as the substance that is added? I do not understand, he said.
217d
οὐ μανθάνω, ἦ δ' ὅς.
ἀλλ' ὧδε, ἦν δ' ἐγώ. εἴ τίς σου ξανθὰς οὔσας τὰς τρίχας ψιμυθίῳ ἀλείψειεν, πότερον τότε λευκαὶ εἶεν ἢ φαίνοιντ' ἄν;
φαίνοιντ' ἄν, ἦ δ' ὅς.
καὶ μὴν παρείη γ' ἂν αὐταῖς λευκότης.
ναί.
ἀλλ' ὅμως οὐδέν τι μᾶλλον ἂν εἶεν λευκαί πω, ἀλλὰ παρούσης λευκότητος οὔτε τι λευκαὶ οὔτε μέλαιναί εἰσιν.
ἀληθῆ.
ἀλλ' ὅταν δή, ὦ φίλε, τὸ γῆρας αὐταῖς ταὐτὸν τοῦτο χρῶμα ἐπαγάγῃ, τότε ἐγένοντο οἷόνπερ τὸ παρόν, λευκοῦ παρουσίᾳ
217d
Well, try it this way, I went on: suppose some one tinged your golden locks with white lead, would they then be or appear to be white? Yes, they would so appear, he replied. And, in fact, whiteness would be present with them? Yes. But all the same they would not be any the more white as yet; for though whiteness be present, they are not at all white, any more than they are at all black. True. But when, my dear boy, old age has cast that same color upon them, they have then come to be of the same sort as
217e
λευκαί.
πῶς γὰρ οὔ;
τοῦτο τοίνυν ἐρωτῶ νῦν δή, εἰ ᾧ ἄν τι παρῇ, τοιοῦτον ἔσται τὸ ἔχον οἷον τὸ παρόν: ἢ ἐὰν μὲν κατά τινα τρόπον παρῇ, ἔσται, ἐὰν δὲ μή, οὔ;
οὕτω μᾶλλον, ἔφη.
καὶ τὸ μήτε κακὸν ἄρα μήτ' ἀγαθὸν ἐνίοτε κακοῦ παρόντος οὔπω κακόν ἐστιν, ἔστιν δ' ὅτε ἤδη τὸ τοιοῦτον γέγονεν.
πάνυ γε.
οὐκοῦν ὅταν μήπω κακὸν ᾖ κακοῦ παρόντος, αὕτη μὲν ἡ παρουσία ἀγαθοῦ αὐτὸ ποιεῖ ἐπιθυμεῖν: ἡ δὲ κακὸν ποιοῦσα ἀποστερεῖ αὐτὸ τῆς τε ἐπιθυμίας ἅμα καὶ τῆς φιλίας τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ. οὐ γὰρ ἔτι ἐστὶν
217e
that which is present—white through presence of white. To be sure. So this is the question I have been trying to put to you—whether a thing that has something present with it is to be held of the same sort as that present thing or only when that thing is present in a particular way, but otherwise not? More likely the latter, he said. So that what is neither bad nor good is sometimes, when bad is present, not bad as yet, and such cases have been known to occur. Certainly. When therefore it is not bad as yet, though bad is present, this presence makes it desire good; but the presence which makes it bad deprives it equally of its desire and its love for the good. For it is no longer
218a
οὔτε κακὸν οὔτε ἀγαθόν, ἀλλὰ κακόν: φίλον δὲ ἀγαθῷ κακὸν οὐκ ἦν.
οὐ γὰρ οὖν.
διὰ ταῦτα δὴ φαῖμεν ἂν καὶ τοὺς ἤδη σοφοὺς μηκέτι φιλοσοφεῖν, εἴτε θεοὶ εἴτε ἄνθρωποί εἰσιν οὗτοι: οὐδ' αὖ ἐκείνους φιλοσοφεῖν τοὺς οὕτως ἄγνοιαν ἔχοντας ὥστε κακοὺς εἶναι: κακὸν γὰρ καὶ ἀμαθῆ οὐδένα φιλοσοφεῖν. λείπονται δὴ οἱ ἔχοντες μὲν τὸ κακὸν τοῦτο, τὴν ἄγνοιαν, μήπω δὲ ὑπ' αὐτοῦ ὄντες ἀγνώμονες μηδὲ
218a
neither bad nor good, but bad; and we found that bad was no friend to good. No, indeed. And consequently we may say that those who are already wise no longer love wisdom, whether they be gods or men; nor again can those be lovers of wisdom who are in such ignorance as to be bad: for we know that a bad and stupid man is no lover of wisdom. And now there remain those who, while possessing this bad thing, ignorance, are not yet made ignorant or stupid, but are still aware of not knowing the things
218b
ἀμαθεῖς, ἀλλ' ἔτι ἡγούμενοι μὴ εἰδέναι ἃ μὴ ἴσασιν. διὸ δὴ καὶ φιλοσοφοῦσιν οἱ οὔτε ἀγαθοὶ οὔτε κακοί πω ὄντες, ὅσοι δὲ κακοὶ οὐ φιλοσοφοῦσιν, οὐδὲ οἱ ἀγαθοί: οὔτε γὰρ τὸ ἐναντίον τοῦ ἐναντίου οὔτε τὸ ὅμοιον τοῦ ὁμοίου φίλον ἡμῖν ἐφάνη ἐν τοῖς ἔμπροσθεν λόγοις. ἢ οὐ μέμνησθε;
πάνυ γε, ἐφάτην.
νῦν ἄρα, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ Λύσι τε καὶ Μενέξενε, παντὸς μᾶλλον ἐξηυρήκαμεν ὃ ἔστιν τὸ φίλον καὶ οὔ. φαμὲν γὰρ αὐτό, καὶ κατὰ τὴν ψυχὴν καὶ κατὰ τὸ
218b
they do not know. It follows, then, that those who are as yet neither good nor bad are lovers of wisdom, while all who are bad, and all the good, are not: for, as we found in our previous discussion, neither is opposite friend to opposite, nor like to like. You remember, do you not? To be sure we do, they both replied. So now, Lysis and Menexenus, I said, we can count on having discovered what is the friendly and what is not. For we say that, in the soul
218c
σῶμα καὶ πανταχοῦ, τὸ μήτε κακὸν μήτε ἀγαθὸν διὰ κακοῦ παρουσίαν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ φίλον εἶναι.
παντάπασιν ἐφάτην τε καὶ συνεχωρείτην οὕτω τοῦτ' ἔχειν.


καὶ δὴ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐγὼ πάνυ ἔχαιρον, ὥσπερ θηρευτής τις, ἔχων ἀγαπητῶς ὃ ἐθηρευόμην. κἄπειτ' οὐκ οἶδ' ὁπόθεν μοι ἀτοπωτάτη τις ὑποψία εἰσῆλθεν ὡς οὐκ ἀληθῆ εἴη τὰ ὡμολογημένα ἡμῖν, καὶ εὐθὺς ἀχθεσθεὶς εἶπον: βαβαῖ, ὦ Λύσι τε καὶ Μενέξενε, κινδυνεύομεν ὄναρ πεπλουτηκέναι.
218c
and the body and everywhere, just that which is neither bad nor good, but has the presence of bad, is thereby friend of the good. To this statement they said that they entirely agreed.


And, beyond that, I was myself filled with delight, like a hunter, at the satisfaction of getting hold of what I was hunting; when somehow or other a most unaccountable suspicion came over me that the conclusion to which we had agreed was not true. So at once I exclaimed in vexation: Alack-a-day, Lysis and Menexenus! I fear our new-gotten riches are all a dream.
218d
τί μάλιστα; ἔφη ὁ Μενέξενος.


φοβοῦμαι, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, μὴ ὥσπερ ἀνθρώποις ἀλαζόσιν λόγοις τισὶν τοιούτοις [ψευδέσιν] ἐντετυχήκαμεν περὶ τοῦ φίλου.


πῶς δή; ἔφη.


ὧδε, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, σκοπῶμεν: φίλος ὃς ἂν εἴη, πότερόν ἐστίν τῳ φίλος ἢ οὔ;
ἀνάγκη, ἔφη.
πότερον οὖν οὐδενὸς ἕνεκα καὶ δι' οὐδέν, ἢ ἕνεκά του καὶ διά τι;
ἕνεκά του καὶ διά τι.
πότερον φίλου ὄντος ἐκείνου τοῦ πράγματος, οὗ ἕνεκα φίλος ὁ φίλος τῷ φίλῳ, ἢ οὔτε φίλου οὔτε ἐχθροῦ;
218d
How on earth is that? said Menexenus.


I am afraid, I replied, that in our search for friendship we have struck up with arguments that are no better than a set of braggarts.


How so ? he asked.


Just consider a moment, I said. When a man is a friend, is he friend to some one or not? He needs be, he replied. Then is he so for the sake of nothing and because of nothing, or for the sake of something and because of something? For the sake of something, and because of something. Is it a friend—that thing for whose sake he is a friend to his friend—or is it neither friend nor foe? I do not quite follow, he said.
218e
οὐ πάνυ, ἔφη, ἕπομαι.
εἰκότως γε, ἦν δ' ἐγώ: ἀλλ' ὧδε ἴσως ἀκολουθήσεις, οἶμαι δὲ καὶ ἐγὼ μᾶλλον εἴσομαι ὅτι λέγω. ὁ κάμνων, νυνδὴ ἔφαμεν, τοῦ ἰατροῦ φίλος: οὐχ οὕτως;
ναί.
οὐκοῦν διὰ νόσον ἕνεκα ὑγιείας τοῦ ἰατροῦ φίλος;
ναί.
ἡ δέ γε νόσος κακόν;
πῶς δ' οὔ;
τί δὲ ὑγίεια; ἦν δ' ἐγώ: ἀγαθὸν ἢ κακὸν ἢ οὐδέτερα;
ἀγαθόν,
218e
Naturally enough, said I; but perhaps you will keep up if we try it another way, and I expect that I too will better understand what I am saying. The sick man, we said just now, is a friend to the doctor; is not that so? Yes. Then is it because of disease, for the sake of health, that he is a friend of the doctor? Yes. And disease is a bad thing? Of course. But what is health? I asked: a good thing, or a bad, or neither? A good thing, he said.
219a
ἔφη.
ἐλέγομεν δ' ἄρα, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὅτι τὸ σῶμα, οὔτε ἀγαθὸν οὔτε κακὸν <ὄν>, διὰ τὴν νόσον, τοῦτο δὲ διὰ τὸ κακόν, τῆς ἰατρικῆς φίλον ἐστίν, ἀγαθὸν δὲ ἰατρική: ἕνεκα δὲ τῆς ὑγιείας τὴν φιλίαν ἡ ἰατρικὴ ἀνῄρηται, ἡ δὲ ὑγίεια ἀγαθόν. ἦ γάρ;
ναί.
φίλον δὲ ἢ οὐ φίλον ἡ ὑγίεια;
φίλον.
ἡ δὲ νόσος ἐχθρόν.
πάνυ γε.
τὸ οὔτε κακὸν οὔτε
219a
And we were saying, I believe, that the body, being neither good nor bad, was a friend of medicine—that is, of a good thing—because of disease—that is, because of a bad thing; and it is for the sake of health that medicine has acquired this friendship, and health is a good thing. You agree? Yes. Is health a friend or not? A friend. And disease is a foe? Certainly. So what is neither bad nor good
219b
ἀγαθὸν ἄρα διὰ τὸ κακὸν καὶ τὸ ἐχθρὸν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ φίλον ἐστὶν ἕνεκα τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ καὶ φίλου.
φαίνεται.
ἕνεκα ἄρα τοῦ φίλου <τοῦ φίλου> τὸ φίλον φίλον διὰ τὸ ἐχθρόν.
ἔοικεν.


εἶεν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ. ἐπειδὴ ἐνταῦθα ἥκομεν, ὦ παῖδες, πρόσσχωμεν τὸν νοῦν μὴ ἐξαπατηθῶμεν. ὅτι μὲν γὰρ φίλον τοῦ φίλου τὸ φίλον γέγονεν, ἐῶ χαίρειν, καὶ τοῦ ὁμοίου γε τὸ ὅμοιον φίλον γίγνεται, ὅ φαμεν ἀδύνατον εἶναι: ἀλλ' ὅμως τόδε σκεψώμεθα, μὴ ἡμᾶς ἐξαπατήσῃ τὸ νῦν λεγόμενον.
219b
is a friend to the good because of what is bad and a foe for the sake of what is good and a friend. Apparently. Hence the friend is a friend of its friend for the sake of its friend and because of its foe. So it seems.


Very well, I said: since we have reached this point, my boys, let us take good heed not to be deceived. I pass over without remark the fact that the friend has become a friend to the friend, and thus the like becomes a friend to the like, which we said was impossible. There is, however, a further point which we must examine,
219c
ἡ ἰατρική, φαμέν, ἕνεκα τῆς ὑγιείας φίλον.
ναί.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ἡ ὑγίεια φίλον;
πάνυ γε.
εἰ ἄρα φίλον, ἕνεκά του.
ναί.
φίλου γέ τινος δή, εἴπερ ἀκολουθήσει τῇ πρόσθεν ὁμολογίᾳ.
πάνυ γε.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ἐκεῖνο φίλον αὖ ἔσται ἕνεκα φίλου;
ναί.
ἆρ' οὖν οὐκ ἀνάγκη ἀπειπεῖν ἡμᾶς οὕτως ἰόντας ἢ ἀφικέσθαι ἐπί τινα ἀρχήν, ἣ οὐκέτ' ἐπανοίσει ἐπ' ἄλλο φίλον, ἀλλ' ἥξει ἐπ' ἐκεῖνο ὅ ἐστιν
219c
if we are not to find our present argument a mere deception. Medicine, we say, is a friend for the sake of health. Yes. Then is health a friend also? Certainly. And if it is a friend, it is so for the sake of something. Yes. And that something is a friend, if it is to conform to our previous agreement. Quite so. Then will that something be, on its part also, a friend for the sake of a friend? Yes. Now are we not bound to weary ourselves with going on in this way, unless we can arrive at some first principle which will not keep leading us on from one friend to another, but will reach the one original friend, for whose sake all the other things can be said
219d
πρῶτον φίλον, οὗ ἕνεκα καὶ τὰ ἄλλα φαμὲν πάντα φίλα εἶναι;
ἀνάγκη.
τοῦτο δή ἐστιν ὃ λέγω, μὴ ἡμᾶς τἆλλα πάντα ἃ εἴπομεν ἐκείνου ἕνεκα φίλα εἶναι, ὥσπερ εἴδωλα ἄττα ὄντα αὐτοῦ, ἐξαπατᾷ, ᾖ δ' ἐκεῖνο τὸ πρῶτον, ὃ ὡς ἀληθῶς ἐστι φίλον. ἐννοήσωμεν γὰρ οὑτωσί: ὅταν τίς τι περὶ πολλοῦ ποιῆται, οἷόνπερ ἐνίοτε πατὴρ ὑὸν ἀντὶ πάντων τῶν ἄλλων χρημάτων προτιμᾷ, ὁ δὴ τοιοῦτος ἕνεκα τοῦ τὸν
219d
to be friends? We must. So you see what I am afraid of—that all the other things, which we cited as friends for the sake of that one thing, may be deceiving us like so many phantoms of it, while that original thing may be the veritable friend. For suppose we view the matter thus: when a man highly values a thing, as in the common case of a father who prizes his son above all his possessions, will such a man, for the sake of placing his son before everything,
219e
ὑὸν περὶ παντὸς ἡγεῖσθαι ἆρα καὶ ἄλλο τι ἂν περὶ πολλοῦ ποιοῖτο; οἷον εἰ αἰσθάνοιτο αὐτὸν κώνειον πεπωκότα, ἆρα περὶ πολλοῦ ποιοῖτ' ἂν οἶνον, εἴπερ τοῦτο ἡγοῖτο τὸν ὑὸν σώσειν;
τί μήν; ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν καὶ τὸ ἀγγεῖον, ἐν ᾧ ὁ οἶνος ἐνείη;
πάνυ γε.
ἆρ' οὖν τότε οὐδὲν περὶ πλείονος ποιεῖται, κύλικα κεραμέαν ἢ τὸν ὑὸν τὸν αὑτοῦ, οὐδὲ τρεῖς κοτύλας οἴνου ἢ τὸν ὑόν; ἢ ὧδέ πως ἔχει: πᾶσα ἡ τοιαύτη σπουδὴ οὐκ ἐπὶ τούτοις ἐστὶν ἐσπουδασμένη, ἐπὶ τοῖς ἕνεκά του παρασκευαζομένοις, ἀλλ' ἐπ' ἐκείνῳ οὗ ἕνεκα πάντα τὰ
219e
value anything else highly at the same time? For instance, on learning that he had drunk some hemlock, would he value wine highly if he believed it would save his son's life? Why, of course, he said. And the vessel too which contained the wine? Certainly. Now does he make no distinction in value, at that moment, between a cup of earthenware and his own son, or between three pints of wine and his son? Or may we perhaps state it thus: all such concern is not entertained for the actual things which are applied for the sake of something, but for that something for whose sake all the rest are applied?
220a
τοιαῦτα παρασκευάζεται. οὐχ ὅτι πολλάκις λέγομεν ὡς περὶ πολλοῦ ποιούμεθα χρυσίον καὶ ἀργύριον: ἀλλὰ μὴ οὐδέν τι μᾶλλον οὕτω τό γε ἀληθὲς ἔχῃ, ἀλλ' ἐκεῖνό ἐστιν ὃ περὶ παντὸς ποιούμεθα, ὃ ἂν φανῇ ὄν, ὅτου ἕνεκα καὶ χρυσίον καὶ πάντα τὰ παρασκευαζόμενα παρασκευάζεται. ἆρ' οὕτως φήσομεν;
πάνυ γε.
οὐκοῦν καὶ περὶ τοῦ φίλου ὁ αὐτὸς λόγος; ὅσα γάρ φαμεν φίλα εἶναι ἡμῖν ἕνεκα φίλου
220a
I know that we often talk of setting great value on gold and silver: but surely we are no nearer the truth of the matter for that; what we rather value above everything is the thing—whatever it may prove to be—for whose sake gold and all the other commodities are applied. May we state it so? By all means. Then shall we not give the same account of a friend? In speaking of all the things that are friends to us
220b
τινὸς ἑτέρου, ῥήματι φαινόμεθα λέγοντες αὐτό: φίλον δὲ τῷ ὄντι κινδυνεύει ἐκεῖνο αὐτὸ εἶναι, εἰς ὃ πᾶσαι αὗται αἱ λεγόμεναι φιλίαι τελευτῶσιν.
κινδυνεύει οὕτως, ἔφη, ἔχειν.
οὐκοῦν τό γε τῷ ὄντι φίλον οὐ φίλου τινὸς ἕνεκα φίλον ἐστίν;
ἀληθῆ.


τοῦτο μὲν δὴ ἀπήλλακται, μὴ φίλου τινὸς ἕνεκα τὸ φίλον φίλον εἶναι: ἀλλ' ἆρα τὸ ἀγαθόν ἐστιν φίλον;
ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.
ἆρ' οὖν διὰ τὸ κακὸν τὸ ἀγαθὸν φιλεῖται,
220b
for the sake of some other friend, we find ourselves uttering a mere phrase; whereas in reality “friend” appears to be simply and solely the thing in which all these so-called friendships terminate. So it appears, he said. Then the real friend is a friend for the sake of nothing else that is a friend? True.


So we have got rid of this, and it is not for the sake of some friendly thing that the friend is friendly. But now, is the good a friend? I should say so. And further, it is because of the bad that the good is loved
;
220c
καὶ ἔχει ὧδε: εἰ τριῶν ὄντων ὧν νυνδὴ ἐλέγομεν, ἀγαθοῦ καὶ κακοῦ καὶ μήτε ἀγαθοῦ μήτε κακοῦ, τὰ δύο λειφθείη, τὸ δὲ κακὸν ἐκποδὼν ἀπέλθοι καὶ μηδενὸς ἐφάπτοιτο μήτε σώματος μήτε ψυχῆς μήτε τῶν ἄλλων, ἃ δή φαμεν αὐτὰ καθ' αὑτὰ οὔτε κακὰ εἶναι οὔτε ἀγαθά, ἆρα τότε οὐδὲν ἂν ἡμῖν χρήσιμον εἴη τὸ ἀγαθόν, ἀλλ' ἄχρηστον ἂν γεγονὸς εἴη; εἰ γὰρ μηδὲν ἡμᾶς ἔτι βλάπτοι, οὐδὲν ἂν οὐδεμιᾶς
220c
let me state the case as follows: there are three things of which we have just been speaking—good, bad, and what is neither good nor bad. If but two of these remained after evil had been cleared away, so that it had no contact with anything, whether body or soul or any of the other things that we count neither bad nor good in themselves, would the result be that good would be of no use to us, but would have become quite a useless thing? For if there were nothing left to harm us, we should feel no want
220d
ὠφελίας δεοίμεθα, καὶ οὕτω δὴ ἂν τότε γένοιτο κατάδηλον ὅτι διὰ τὸ κακὸν τἀγαθὸν ἠγαπῶμεν καὶ ἐφιλοῦμεν, ὡς φάρμακον ὂν τοῦ κακοῦ τὸ ἀγαθόν, τὸ δὲ κακὸν νόσημα: νοσήματος δὲ μὴ ὄντος οὐδὲν δεῖ φαρμάκου. ἆρ' οὕτω πέφυκέ τε καὶ φιλεῖται τἀγαθὸν διὰ τὸ κακὸν ὑφ' ἡμῶν, τῶν μεταξὺ ὄντων τοῦ κακοῦ τε καὶ τἀγαθοῦ, αὐτὸ δ' ἑαυτοῦ ἕνεκα οὐδεμίαν χρείαν ἔχει;
ἔοικεν, ἦ δ' ὅς, οὕτως ἔχειν.
τὸ ἄρα φίλον ἡμῖν ἐκεῖνο, εἰς ὃ ἐτελεύτα πάντα τὰ ἄλλα
220d
of any assistance; and thus we should have to face the fact that it was because of the bad that we felt such a friendly affection for the good, since the good is a cure for the bad, while the bad is an ailment, and if there is no ailment there is no need for a cure. Is not this the nature of the good—to be loved because of the bad by us who are midway between the bad and the good, whereas separately and for its own sake it is of no use? Apparently so, he said. Then our “friend,” in which
220e
—ἕνεκα ἑτέρου φίλου φίλα ἔφαμεν εἶναι ἐκεῖνα—οὐδὲν [δὲ] τούτοις ἔοικεν. ταῦτα μὲν γὰρ φίλου ἕνεκα φίλα κέκληται, τὸ δὲ τῷ ὄντι φίλον πᾶν τοὐναντίον τούτου φαίνεται πεφυκός: φίλον γὰρ ἡμῖν ἀνεφάνη ὂν ἐχθροῦ ἕνεκα, εἰ δὲ τὸ ἐχθρὸν ἀπέλθοι, οὐκέτι, ὡς ἔοικ', ἔσθ' ἡμῖν φίλον.
οὔ μοι δοκεῖ, ἔφη, ὥς γε νῦν λέγεται.
πότερον, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, πρὸς Διός, ἐὰν τὸ κακὸν ἀπόληται, οὐδὲ πεινῆν ἔτι ἔσται οὐδὲ
220e
all the other things terminated—we called them “friends for the sake of some other friend ”—has no resemblance to these. For they are described as friends for the sake of a friend: but the real friend appears to have quite the opposite character; for we found if to be a friend for the sake of a foe, and if the foe should be removed we have no friend, it seems, any more. I should say not, he assented, to judge by our present argument. Tell me, I beg of you, I went on, if evil is abolished, will it be impossible any longer to feel hunger
221a
διψῆν οὐδὲ ἄλλο οὐδὲν τῶν τοιούτων; ἢ πείνη μὲν ἔσται, ἐάνπερ ἄνθρωποί τε καὶ τἆλλα ζῷα ᾖ, οὐ μέντοι βλαβερά γε; καὶ δίψα δὴ καὶ αἱ ἄλλαι ἐπιθυμίαι, ἀλλ' οὐ κακαί, ἅτε τοῦ κακοῦ ἀπολωλότος; ἢ γελοῖον τὸ ἐρώτημα, ὅτι ποτ' ἔσται τότε ἢ μὴ ἔσται; τίς γὰρ οἶδεν; ἀλλ' οὖν τόδε γ' ἴσμεν, ὅτι καὶ νῦν ἔστιν πεινῶντα βλάπτεσθαι, ἔστιν δὲ καὶ ὠφελεῖσθαι. ἦ γάρ;
πάνυ γε.
οὐκοῦν καὶ διψῶντα καὶ
221a
or thirst or other such conditions? Or will hunger exist, so long as men and animals exist, but without being hurtful? Thirst, too, and all other desires—will these exist without being bad, because the bad will have been abolished? Or is this a ridiculous question—as to what will exist or not exist in such a case? For who can tell? Yet this, at all events, we do know—that, as things are now, it is possible for a man to feel hunger as a hurt, and also to be benefited by it. You agree? Certainly. And so, when a man feels thirst or any other desire of the sort,
221b
τῶν ἄλλων τῶν τοιούτων πάντων ἐπιθυμοῦντα ἔστιν ἐνίοτε μὲν ὠφελίμως ἐπιθυμεῖν, ἐνίοτε δὲ βλαβερῶς, ἐνίοτε δὲ μηδέτερα;
σφόδρα γε.
οὐκοῦν ἐὰν ἀπολλύηται τὰ κακά, ἅ γε μὴ τυγχάνει ὄντα κακά, τί προσήκει τοῖς κακοῖς συναπόλλυσθαι;
οὐδέν.
ἔσονται ἄρα αἱ μήτε ἀγαθαὶ μήτε κακαὶ ἐπιθυμίαι καὶ ἐὰν ἀπόληται τὰ κακά.
φαίνεται.
οἷόν τε οὖν ἐστιν ἐπιθυμοῦντα καὶ ἐρῶντα τούτου οὗ ἐπιθυμεῖ καὶ ἐρᾷ μὴ φιλεῖν;
οὐκ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.
ἔσται ἄρα
221b
he may have that desire sometimes with benefit, sometimes with harm, and sometimes with neither? Quite so. Now if evil things are abolished, is there any reason why the things that are not evil should be abolished along with the evil? None. So that those desires which are neither good nor bad will exist even when the bad things are abolished. Apparently. Now is it possible for a man, when he desires and loves, to have no friendly feeling towards that which he desires and loves? I think not. Thus certain things will continue to be friendly, it seems, when evil things are abolished. Yes.
221c
καὶ τῶν κακῶν ἀπολομένων, ὡς ἔοικεν, φίλ' ἄττα.
ναί.
οὐκ ἄν, εἴ γε τὸ κακὸν αἴτιον ἦν τοῦ φίλον τι εἶναι, οὐκ ἂν ἦν τούτου ἀπολομένου φίλον ἕτερον ἑτέρῳ. αἰτίας γὰρ ἀπολομένης ἀδύνατόν που ἦν ἔτ' ἐκεῖνο εἶναι, οὗ ἦν αὕτη ἡ αἰτία.
ὀρθῶς λέγεις.
οὐκοῦν ὡμολόγηται ἡμῖν τὸ φίλον φιλεῖν τι καὶ διά τι: καὶ ᾠήθημεν τότε γε διὰ τὸ κακὸν τὸ μήτε ἀγαθὸν μήτε κακὸν τὸ ἀγαθὸν φιλεῖν;
ἀληθῆ.
221c
It cannot be that, if evil were the cause of a thing being friendly, one thing should be friendly to another when evil is abolished. For when a cause is abolished, that thing can no longer exist, I presume, which had this as its cause. You are right. Now we have agreed that the friend has a friendly feeling for something and because of something; and we supposed, just then, that it was because of evil that what was neither good nor bad loved the good.
221d
νῦν δέ γε, ὡς ἔοικε, φαίνεται ἄλλη τις αἰτία τοῦ φιλεῖν τε καὶ φιλεῖσθαι.
ἔοικεν.
ἆρ' οὖν τῷ ὄντι, ὥσπερ ἄρτι ἐλέγομεν, ἡ ἐπιθυμία τῆς φιλίας αἰτία, καὶ τὸ ἐπιθυμοῦν φίλον ἐστὶν τούτῳ οὗ ἐπιθυμεῖ καὶ τότε ὅταν ἐπιθυμῇ, ὃ δὲ τὸ πρότερον ἐλέγομεν φίλον εἶναι, ὕθλος τις ἦν, ὥσπερ ποίημα μακρὸν συγκείμενον;
κινδυνεύει, ἔφη.
ἀλλὰ μέντοι, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, τό γε ἐπιθυμοῦν, οὗ ἂν ἐνδεὲς ᾖ, τούτου
221d
True. But now, it seems, we make out a different cause of loving and being loved. It seems so. Can it really be then, as we were saying just now, that desire is the cause of friendship, and the desiring thing is a friend to what which it desires, and is so at any time of desiring; while our earlier statement about friends was all mere drivel, like a poem strung out for mere length? It looks like it, he said. But still, I went on, the desiring thing desires
221e
ἐπιθυμεῖ. ἦ γάρ;
ναί.
τὸ δ' ἐνδεὲς ἄρα φίλον ἐκείνου οὗ ἂν ἐνδεὲς ᾖ;
δοκεῖ μοι.
ἐνδεὲς δὲ γίγνεται οὗ ἄν τι ἀφαιρῆται.
πῶς δ' οὔ;
τοῦ οἰκείου δή, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὅ τε ἔρως καὶ ἡ φιλία καὶ ἡ ἐπιθυμία τυγχάνει οὖσα, ὡς φαίνεται, ὦ Μενέξενέ τε καὶ Λύσι.
συνεφάτην.
ὑμεῖς ἄρα εἰ φίλοι ἐστὸν ἀλλήλοις, φύσει πῃ οἰκεῖοί ἐσθ' ὑμῖν αὐτοῖς.
κομιδῇ, ἐφάτην.
καὶ εἰ ἄρα τις ἕτερος ἑτέρου ἐπιθυμεῖ, ἦν δ' ἐγώ,
221e
that in which it is deficient, does it not? Yes. And the deficient is a friend to that in which it is deficient? I suppose so. And it becomes deficient in that of which it suffers a deprivation. To be sure. So it is one's own belongings,
it seems, that are the objects of love and friendship and desire; so it appears, Menexenus and Lysis. They both agreed. Then if you two are friends to each other by some natural bond you belong to one another. Precisely, they said. And in a case where
222a
ὦ παῖδες, ἢ ἐρᾷ, οὐκ ἄν ποτε ἐπεθύμει οὐδὲ ἤρα οὐδὲ ἐφίλει, εἰ μὴ οἰκεῖός πῃ τῷ ἐρωμένῳ ἐτύγχανεν ὢν ἢ κατὰ τὴν ψυχὴν ἢ κατά τι τῆς ψυχῆς ἦθος ἢ τρόπους ἢ εἶδος.
πάνυ γε, ἔφη ὁ Μενέξενος: ὁ δὲ Λύσις ἐσίγησεν.
εἶεν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ. τὸ μὲν δὴ φύσει οἰκεῖον ἀναγκαῖον ἡμῖν πέφανται φιλεῖν.
ἔοικεν, ἔφη.
ἀναγκαῖον ἄρα τῷ γνησίῳ ἐραστῇ καὶ μὴ προσποιήτῳ φιλεῖσθαι ὑπὸ τῶν παιδικῶν.
222a
one person desires another, my boys, or loves him, he would never be desiring or loving or befriending him, unless he somehow belonged to his beloved either in soul, or in some disposition, demeanor or cast of soul. Yes, to be sure, said Menexenus; but Lysis was silent. Very well, said I: what belongs to us by nature has been shown to be something we needs must befriend. It seems so, he said. Then the genuine, not the pretended, lover must needs be befriended by his favorite.
222b
ὁ μὲν οὖν Λύσις καὶ ὁ Μενέξενος μόγις πως ἐπενευσάτην, ὁ δὲ Ἱπποθάλης ὑπὸ τῆς ἡδονῆς παντοδαπὰ ἠφίει χρώματα.


καὶ ἐγὼ εἶπον, βουλόμενος τὸν λόγον ἐπισκέψασθαι, εἰ μέν τι τὸ οἰκεῖον τοῦ ὁμοίου διαφέρει, λέγοιμεν ἄν τι, ὡς ἐμοὶ δοκεῖ, ὦ Λύσι τε καὶ Μενέξενε, περὶ φίλου, ὃ ἔστιν: εἰ δὲ ταὐτὸν τυγχάνει ὂν ὅμοιόν τε καὶ οἰκεῖον, οὐ ῥᾴδιον ἀποβαλεῖν τὸν πρόσθεν λόγον, ὡς οὐ τὸ ὅμοιον τῷ ὁμοίῳ κατὰ τὴν ὁμοιότητα ἄχρηστον: τὸ δὲ ἄχρηστον φίλον
222b
To this Lysis and Menexenus gave but a faint nod of assent; while Hippothales, in his delight, turned all manner of colors.


So then, with the design of reviewing the argument, I proceeded: If there is any difference between what belongs and what is like, it seems to me, Lysis and Menexenus, that we might give some account of the meaning of “friend.” But if “like” and “belonging” are the same, it is not easy to get rid of our former statement, that the like is useless to the like in so far as they have likeness; and to admit that the useless is friendly
222c
ὁμολογεῖν πλημμελές. βούλεσθ' οὖν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ἐπειδὴ ὥσπερ μεθύομεν ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγου, συγχωρήσωμεν καὶ φῶμεν ἕτερόν τι εἶναι τὸ οἰκεῖον τοῦ ὁμοίου;
πάνυ γε.
πότερον οὖν καὶ τἀγαθὸν οἰκεῖον θήσομεν παντί, τὸ δὲ κακὸν ἀλλότριον εἶναι; ἢ τὸ μὲν κακὸν τῷ κακῷ οἰκεῖον, τῷ δὲ ἀγαθῷ τὸ ἀγαθόν, τῷ δὲ μήτε ἀγαθῷ μήτε κακῷ τὸ μήτε ἀγαθὸν μήτε κακόν;
οὕτως ἐφάτην δοκεῖν σφίσιν ἕκαστον ἑκάστῳ
222c
would be a gross mistake. So how if we agree now, I said, since our argument has made us quite tipsy, to say that the belonging and the like are two different things? By all means. Then shall we maintain that the good itself belongs to every one, while the bad is alien? Or does the bad belong to the bad, the good to the good, and what is neither good nor bad to what is neither good nor bad? They agreed that the last three pairs belong together. So here again, boys,
222d
οἰκεῖον εἶναι.
πάλιν ἄρα, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ παῖδες, οὓς τὸ πρῶτον λόγους ἀπεβαλόμεθα περὶ φιλίας, εἰς τούτους εἰσπεπτώκαμεν: ὁ γὰρ ἄδικος τῷ ἀδίκῳ καὶ ὁ κακὸς τῷ κακῷ οὐδὲν ἧττον φίλος ἔσται ἢ ὁ ἀγαθὸς τῷ ἀγαθῷ.
ἔοικεν, ἔφη.
τί δέ; τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ τὸ οἰκεῖον ἂν ταὐτὸν φῶμεν εἶναι, ἄλλο τι ἢ ὁ ἀγαθὸς τῷ ἀγαθῷ μόνον φίλος;
πάνυ γε.
ἀλλὰ μὴν καὶ τοῦτό γε ᾠόμεθα ἐξελέγξαι ἡμᾶς αὐτούς: ἢ οὐ μέμνησθε;
μεμνήμεθα.
222d
I said, we have dropped into the very statements regarding friendship which we rejected at first; for now the unjust will be as much a friend of the unjust, and the bad of the bad, as the good of the good.
So it seems, he said. And what is more, if we say that the good and the belonging are the same, we cannot avoid making the good a friend only to the good. To be sure. But this again, you know, is a view of which we thought we had disabused ourselves; you remember, do you not? We do.
222e
τί οὖν ἂν ἔτι χρησαίμεθα τῷ λόγῳ; ἢ δῆλον ὅτι οὐδέν; δέομαι οὖν, ὥσπερ οἱ σοφοὶ ἐν τοῖς δικαστηρίοις, τὰ εἰρημένα ἅπαντα ἀναπεμπάσασθαι. εἰ γὰρ μήτε οἱ φιλούμενοι μήτε οἱ φιλοῦντες μήτε οἱ ὅμοιοι μήτε οἱ ἀνόμοιοι μήτε οἱ ἀγαθοὶ μήτε οἱ οἰκεῖοι μήτε τὰ ἄλλα ὅσα διεληλύθαμεν—οὐ γὰρ ἔγωγε ἔτι μέμνημαι ὑπὸ τοῦ πλήθους—ἀλλ' εἰ μηδὲν τούτων φίλον ἐστίν, ἐγὼ μὲν οὐκέτι ἔχω τί λέγω.
222e
So what more can we do with our argument? Obviously, I think, nothing. I can only ask you, accordingly, like the professional pleaders in the law courts, to perpend the whole of what has been said. If neither the loved nor the loving, nor the like nor the unlike, nor the good nor the belonging, nor all the rest that we have tried in turn—they are so many that I, for one, fail to remember any more—well, if none of these is a friend, I am at a loss for anything further to say.
223a
ταῦτα δ' εἰπὼν ἐν νῷ εἶχον ἄλλον ἤδη τινὰ τῶν πρεσβυτέρων κινεῖν: κᾆτα, ὥσπερ δαίμονές τινες, προσελθόντες οἱ παιδαγωγοί, ὅ τε τοῦ Μενεξένου καὶ ὁ τοῦ Λύσιδος, ἔχοντες αὐτῶν τοὺς ἀδελφούς, παρεκάλουν καὶ ἐκέλευον αὐτοὺς οἴκαδ' ἀπιέναι: ἤδη γὰρ ἦν ὀψέ. τὸ μὲν οὖν πρῶτον καὶ ἡμεῖς καὶ οἱ περιεστῶτες αὐτοὺς ἀπηλαύνομεν: ἐπειδὴ δὲ οὐδὲν ἐφρόντιζον ἡμῶν, ἀλλ' ὑποβαρβαρίζοντες ἠγανάκτουν τε καὶ
223a
Having thus spoken, I was minded to stir up somebody else among the older people there; when, like spirits from another world, there came upon us the tutors of Menexenus and Lysis: they were bringing along the boys' brothers, and called out to them the order to go home; for it was getting late. At first we tried, with the help of the group around us, to drive the tutors off; but they took no notice of us at all, and went on angrily calling, as before, in their foreign accent. We decided that
223b
οὐδὲν ἧττον ἐκάλουν, ἀλλ' ἐδόκουν ἡμῖν ὑποπεπωκότες ἐν τοῖς Ἑρμαίοις ἄποροι εἶναι προσφέρεσθαι, ἡττηθέντες οὖν αὐτῶν διελύσαμεν τὴν συνουσίαν. ὅμως δ' ἔγωγε ἤδη ἀπιόντων αὐτῶν, νῦν μέν, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, ὦ Λύσι τε καὶ Μενέξενε, καταγέλαστοι γεγόναμεν ἐγώ τε, γέρων ἀνήρ, καὶ ὑμεῖς. ἐροῦσι γὰρ οἵδε ἀπιόντες ὡς οἰόμεθα ἡμεῖς ἀλλήλων φίλοι εἶναι— καὶ ἐμὲ γὰρ ἐν ὑμῖν τίθημι—οὔπω δὲ ὅτι ἔστιν ὁ φίλος οἷοί τε ἐγενόμεθα ἐξευρεῖν.
223b
they had taken a drop too much at the festival and might be awkward customers; so we gave in to them, and broke up our party. However, just as they were moving off, I remarked: Today, Lysis and Menexenus, we have made ourselves ridiculous—I, an old man, as well as you. For these others will go away and tell how we believe we are friends of one another—for I count myself in with you—but what a “friend” is, we have not yet succeeded in discovering.