Socrates “It is in this loose way of speaking, then, that you must take the answer I gave you a little while ago. But the most precise statement is that other, that the ruler 341a in so far forth as ruler does not err, and not erring he enacts what is best for himself, and this the subject must do, so that, even as I meant from the start, I say the just is to do what is for the advantage of the stronger.”
“So then, Thrasymachus,” said I, “my manner of argument seems to you pettifogging?” “It does,” he said. “You think, do you, that it was with malice aforethought and trying to get the better of you unfairly that I asked that question?” “I don’t think it, I know it,” he said, “and you won’t make anything by it, for you won’t get the better of me by stealth and 341b , failing stealth, you are not of the force1 to beat me in debate.” “Bless your soul,” said I, “I wouldn’t even attempt such a thing. But that nothing of the sort may spring up between us again, define in which sense you take the ruler and stronger. Do you mean the so-called ruler2 or that ruler in the precise sense of whom you were just now telling us, and for whose advantage as being the superior it will be just for the inferior to act?” “I mean the ruler in the very most precise sense of the word,” he said. “Now bring on against this your cavils and your shyster’s tricks if you are able. 341c I ask no quarter. But you’ll find yourself unable.” “Why, do you suppose,” I said, “that I am so mad to try to try to beard a lion3 and try the pettifogger on Thrasymachus?” “You did try it just now,” he said, “paltry fellow though you be.”4 “Something too much5 of this sort of thing,” said I. “But tell me, your physician in the precise sense of whom you were just now speaking, is he a moneymaker, an earner of fees, or a healer of the sick? And remember to speak of the physician who is really such.” “A healer of the sick,” he replied. “And what of the lot—the pilot rightly so called—is he a ruler of sailors or a sailor?” 341d “A ruler of sailors.” “We don’t, I fancy, have to take into account the fact that he actually sails in the ship, nor is he to be denominated a sailor. For it is not in respect of his sailing that he is called a pilot but in respect of his art and his ruling of the sailors.” “True,” he said. “Then for each of them6 is there not a something that is for his advantage?” “Quite so.” “And is it not also true,” said I, “that the art naturally exists for this, to discover and provide for each his advantage?” “Yes, for this.” “Is there, then, for each of the arts any other advantage than to be perfect as possible7?” 341e “What do you mean by that question?” “Just as if,” I said, “you should ask me whether it is enough for the body to be the body or whether it stands in need of something else, I would reply, “By all means it stands in need. That is the reason why the art of medicine has now been invented, because the body is defective and such defect is unsatisfactory. To provide for this, then, what is advantageous, that is the end for which the art was devised.” Do you think that would be a correct answer, or not?”
342a “Correct,” he said. “But how about this? Is the medical art itself defective or faulty, or has any other art any need of some virtue, quality, or excellence—as the eyes of vision, the ears of hearing, and for this reason is there need of some art over them that will consider and provide what is advantageous for these very ends—does there exist in the art itself some defect and does each art require another art to consider its advantage and is there need of still another for the considering art and so on ad infinitum, or will the art look out for its own advantage? 342b Or is it a fact that it needs neither itself nor another art to consider its advantage and provide against its deficiency? For there is no defect or error at all that dwells in any art. Nor does it befit an art to seek the advantage of anything else than that of its object. But the art itself is free from all harm and admixture of evil, and is right so long as each art is precisely and entirely that which it is. And consider the matter in that precise way of speaking. Is it so or not?” “It appears to be so,” he said. “Then medicine,” said I, 342c “does not consider the advantage of medicine but of the body?” “Yes.” “Nor horsemanship of horsemanship but of horses, nor does any other art look out for itself—for it has no need—but for that of which it is the art.” “So it seems,” he replied. “But surely,8 Thrasymachus, the arts do hold rule and are stronger than that of which they are the arts.” He conceded this but it went very hard. “Then no art considers or enjoins9 the advantage of the stronger but every art that of the weaker 342d which is ruled by it.” This too he was finally brought to admit though he tried to contest it. But when he had agreed—“Can we deny, then,” said I, “that neither does any physician in so far as he is a physician seek or enjoin the advantage of the physician but that of the patient? For we have agreed that the physician, “precisely” speaking, is a ruler and governor of bodies and not a moneymaker. Did we agree on that?” He assented. “And so the “precise” pilot is a ruler of sailors, 342e not a sailor?” That was admitted. “Then that sort of a pilot and ruler will not consider and enjoin the advantage of the pilot but that of the sailor whose ruler he is.” He assented reluctantly. “Then,” said I, “Thrasymachus, neither does anyone in any office of rule in so far as he is a ruler consider and enjoin his own advantage but that of the one whom he rules and for whom he exercises his craft, and he keeps his eyes fixed on that and on what is advantageous and suitable to that in all that he says and does.”
343aWhen we had come to this point in the discussion and it was apparent to everybody that his formula of justice had suffered a reversal of form, Thrasymachus, instead of replying,10 said, “Tell me, Socrates, have you got a nurse?” “What do you mean?” said I. “Why didn’t you answer me instead of asking such a question?” “Because,” he said, “she lets her little “snotty” run about drivelling11 and doesn’t wipe your face clean, though you need it badly, if she can’t get you to know12 the difference between the shepherd and the sheep.” “And what, pray, makes you think that?” said I. “Because you think that the shepherds 343b and the neat-herds are considering the good of the sheep and the cattle and fatten and tend them with anything else in view than the good of their masters and themselves; and by the same token you seem to suppose that the rulers in our cities, I mean the real rulers,13 differ at all in their thoughts of the governed from a man’s attitude towards his sheep14 or that they think of anything else night and day than 343c the sources of their own profit. And you are so far out15 concerning the just and justice and the unjust and injustice that you don’t know that justice and the just are literally16 the other fellow’s good17—the advantage of the stronger and the ruler, but a detriment that is all his own of the subject who obeys and serves; while injustice is the contrary and rules those who are simple in every sense of the word and just, and they being thus ruled do what is for his advantage who is the stronger and make him happy 343d in serving him, but themselves by no manner of means. And you must look at the matter, my simple-minded Socrates, in this way: that the just man always comes out at a disadvantage in his relation with the unjust. To begin with, in their business dealings in any joint undertaking of the two you will never find that the just man has the advantage over the unjust at the dissolution of the partnership but that he always has the worst of it. Then again, in their relations with the state, if there are direct taxes or contributions to be paid, the just man contributes more from an equal estate and the other less, and when there is a distribution 343e the one gains much and the other nothing. And so when each holds office, apart from any other loss the just man must count on his own affairs18 falling into disorder through neglect, while because of his justice makes no profit from the state, and thereto he will displease his friends and his acquaintances by his unwillingness to serve them unjustly. But to the unjust man all the opposite advantages accrue.”
Socrates in so far forth as ruler does not err, and not erring he enacts what is best for himself, and this the subject must do, so that, even as I meant from the start, I say the just is to do what is for the advantage of the stronger.”
“So then, Thrasymachus,” said I, “my manner of argument seems to you pettifogging?” “It does,” he said. “You think, do you, that it was with malice aforethought and trying to get the better of you unfairly that I asked that question?” “I don’t think it, I know it,” he said, “and you won’t make anything by it, for you won’t get the better of me by stealth and
Σωκράτης ὅσον ἄρχων ἐστίν, μὴ ἁμαρτάνειν, μὴ ἁμαρτάνοντα δὲ τὸ αὑτῷ βέλτιστον τίθεσθαι, τοῦτο δὲ τῷ ἀρχομένῳ ποιητέον. ὥστε ὅπερ ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἔλεγον δίκαιον λέγω, τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος ποιεῖν συμφέρον.
εἶεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε· δοκῶ σοι συκοφαντεῖν;
πάνυ μὲν οὖν, ἔφη.
οἴει γάρ με ἐξ ἐπιβουλῆς ἐν τοῖς λόγοις κακουργοῦντά σε ἐρέσθαι ὡς ἠρόμην;
εὖ μὲν οὖν οἶδα, ἔφη. καὶ οὐδέν γέ σοι πλέον ἔσται·
, failing stealth, you are not of the force to beat me in debate.” “Bless your soul,” said I, “I wouldn’t even attempt such a thing. But that nothing of the sort may spring up between us again, define in which sense you take the ruler and stronger. Do you mean the so-called ruler or that ruler in the precise sense of whom you were just now telling us, and for whose advantage as being the superior it will be just for the inferior to act?” “I mean the ruler in the very most precise sense of the word,” he said. “Now bring on against this your cavils and your shyster’s tricks if you are able.
οὔτε γὰρ ἄν με λάθοις κακουργῶν, οὔτε μὴ λαθὼν βιάσασθαι τῷ λόγῳ δύναιο.
οὐδέ γʼ ἂν ἐπιχειρήσαιμι, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ μακάριε. ἀλλʼ ἵνα μὴ αὖθις ἡμῖν τοιοῦτον ἐγγένηται, διόρισαι ποτέρως λέγεις τὸν ἄρχοντά τε καὶ τὸν κρείττονα, τὸν ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν ἢ τὸν ἀκριβεῖ λόγῳ, ὃ νυνδὴ ἔλεγες, οὗ τὸ συμφέρον κρείττονος ὄντος δίκαιον ἔσται τῷ ἥττονι ποιεῖν.
τὸν τῷ ἀκριβεστάτῳ, ἔφη, λόγῳ ἄρχοντα ὄντα. πρὸς ταῦτα κακούργει καὶ συκοφάντει, εἴ τι δύνασαι—οὐδέν σου παρίεμαι—ἀλλʼ οὐ μὴ οἷός τʼ ᾖς.
I ask no quarter. But you’ll find yourself unable.” “Why, do you suppose,” I said, “that I am so mad to try to try to beard a lion and try the pettifogger on Thrasymachus?” “You did try it just now,” he said, “paltry fellow though you be.” “Something too much of this sort of thing,” said I. “But tell me, your physician in the precise sense of whom you were just now speaking, is he a moneymaker, an earner of fees, or a healer of the sick? And remember to speak of the physician who is really such.” “A healer of the sick,” he replied. “And what of the lot—the pilot rightly so called—is he a ruler of sailors or a sailor?”
οἴει γὰρ ἄν με, εἶπον, οὕτω μανῆναι ὥστε ξυρεῖν ἐπιχειρεῖν λέοντα καὶ συκοφαντεῖν Θρασύμαχον;
νῦν γοῦν, ἔφη, ἐπεχείρησας, οὐδὲν ὢν καὶ ταῦτα.
ἅδην, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, τῶν τοιούτων. ἀλλʼ εἰπέ μοι· ὁ τῷ ἀκριβεῖ λόγῳ ἰατρός, ὃν ἄρτι ἔλεγες, πότερον χρηματιστής ἐστιν ἢ τῶν καμνόντων θεραπευτής; καὶ λέγε τὸν τῷ ὄντι ἰατρὸν ὄντα.
τῶν καμνόντων, ἔφη, θεραπευτής.
τί δὲ κυβερνήτης; ὁ ὀρθῶς κυβερνήτης ναυτῶν ἄρχων ἐστὶν ἢ ναύτης;
ναυτῶν ἄρχων.
“A ruler of sailors.” “We don’t, I fancy, have to take into account the fact that he actually sails in the ship, nor is he to be denominated a sailor. For it is not in respect of his sailing that he is called a pilot but in respect of his art and his ruling of the sailors.” “True,” he said. “Then for each of them is there not a something that is for his advantage?” “Quite so.” “And is it not also true,” said I, “that the art naturally exists for this, to discover and provide for each his advantage?” “Yes, for this.” “Is there, then, for each of the arts any other advantage than to be perfect as possible?”
οὐδὲν οἶμαι τοῦτο ὑπολογιστέον, ὅτι πλεῖ ἐν τῇ νηί, οὐδʼ ἐστὶν κλητέος ναύτης· οὐ γὰρ κατὰ τὸ πλεῖν κυβερνήτης καλεῖται, ἀλλὰ κατὰ τὴν τέχνην καὶ τὴν τῶν ναυτῶν ἀρχήν.
ἀληθῆ, ἔφη.
οὐκοῦν ἑκάστῳ τούτων ἔστιν τι συμφέρον;
πάνυ γε.
οὐ καὶ ἡ τέχνη, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἐπὶ τούτῳ πέφυκεν, ἐπὶ τῷ τὸ συμφέρον ἑκάστῳ ζητεῖν τε καὶ ἐκπορίζειν;
ἐπὶ τούτῳ, ἔφη.
ἆρʼ οὖν καὶ ἑκάστῃ τῶν τεχνῶν ἔστιν τι συμφέρον ἄλλο ἢ ὅτι μάλιστα τελέαν εἶναι;
“What do you mean by that question?” “Just as if,” I said, “you should ask me whether it is enough for the body to be the body or whether it stands in need of something else, I would reply, “By all means it stands in need. That is the reason why the art of medicine has now been invented, because the body is defective and such defect is unsatisfactory. To provide for this, then, what is advantageous, that is the end for which the art was devised.” Do you think that would be a correct answer, or not?”
πῶς τοῦτο ἐρωτᾷς;
ὥσπερ, ἔφην ἐγώ, εἴ με ἔροιο εἰ ἐξαρκεῖ σώματι εἶναι σώματι ἢ προσδεῖταί τινος, εἴποιμʼ ἂν ὅτι “παντάπασι μὲν οὖν προσδεῖται. διὰ ταῦτα καὶ ἡ τέχνη ἐστὶν ἡ ἰατρικὴ νῦν ηὑρημένη, ὅτι σῶμά ἐστιν πονηρὸν καὶ οὐκ ἐξαρκεῖ αὐτῷ τοιούτῳ εἶναι. τούτῳ οὖν ὅπως ἐκπορίζῃ τὰ συμφέροντα, ἐπὶ τούτῳ παρεσκευάσθη ἡ τέχνη.” ἦ ὀρθῶς σοι δοκῶ, ἔφην, ἂν εἰπεῖν οὕτω λέγων, ἢ οὔ;
ὀρθῶς, ἔφη.
Socrates “Correct,” he said. “But how about this? Is the medical art itself defective or faulty, or has any other art any need of some virtue, quality, or excellence—as the eyes of vision, the ears of hearing, and for this reason is there need of some art over them that will consider and provide what is advantageous for these very ends—does there exist in the art itself some defect and does each art require another art to consider its advantage and is there need of still another for the considering art and so on ad infinitum, or will the art look out for its own advantage?
τί δὲ δή; αὐτὴ ἡ ἰατρική ἐστιν πονηρά, ἢ ἄλλη τις τέχνη ἔσθʼ ὅτι προσδεῖταί τινος ἀρετῆς—ὥσπερ ὀφθαλμοὶ ὄψεως καὶ ὦτα ἀκοῆς καὶ διὰ ταῦτα ἐπʼ αὐτοῖς δεῖ τινος τέχνης τῆς τὸ συμφέρον εἰς αὐτὰ ταῦτα σκεψομένης τε καὶ ἐκποριούσης— ἆρα καὶ ἐν αὐτῇ τῇ τέχνῃ ἔνι τις πονηρία, καὶ δεῖ ἑκάστῃ τέχνῃ ἄλλης τέχνης ἥτις αὐτῇ τὸ συμφέρον σκέψεται, καὶ τῇ σκοπουμένῃ ἑτέρας αὖ τοιαύτης, καὶ τοῦτʼ ἔστιν ἀπέραντον;
Socrates Or is it a fact that it needs neither itself nor another art to consider its advantage and provide against its deficiency? For there is no defect or error at all that dwells in any art. Nor does it befit an art to seek the advantage of anything else than that of its object. But the art itself is free from all harm and admixture of evil, and is right so long as each art is precisely and entirely that which it is. And consider the matter in that precise way of speaking. Is it so or not?” “It appears to be so,” he said. “Then medicine,” said I,
ἢ αὐτὴ αὑτῇ τὸ συμφέρον σκέψεται; ἢ οὔτε αὑτῆς οὔτε ἄλλης προσδεῖται ἐπὶ τὴν αὑτῆς πονηρίαν τὸ συμφέρον σκοπεῖν· οὔτε γὰρ πονηρία οὔτε ἁμαρτία οὐδεμία οὐδεμιᾷ τέχνῃ πάρεστιν, οὐδὲ προσήκει τέχνῃ ἄλλῳ τὸ συμφέρον ζητεῖν ἢ ἐκείνῳ οὗ τέχνη ἐστίν, αὐτὴ δὲ ἀβλαβὴς καὶ ἀκέραιός ἐστιν ὀρθὴ οὖσα, ἕωσπερ ἂν ᾖ ἑκάστη ἀκριβὴς ὅλη ἥπερ ἐστίν; καὶ σκόπει ἐκείνῳ τῷ ἀκριβεῖ λόγῳ· οὕτως ἢ ἄλλως ἔχει;
οὕτως, ἔφη, φαίνεται.
Socrates “does not consider the advantage of medicine but of the body?” “Yes.” “Nor horsemanship of horsemanship but of horses, nor does any other art look out for itself—for it has no need—but for that of which it is the art.” “So it seems,” he replied. “But surely, Thrasymachus, the arts do hold rule and are stronger than that of which they are the arts.” He conceded this but it went very hard. “Then no art considers or enjoins the advantage of the stronger but every art that of the weaker
οὐκ ἄρα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ἰατρικὴ ἰατρικῇ τὸ συμφέρον σκοπεῖ ἀλλὰ σώματι.
ναί, ἔφη.
οὐδὲ ἱππικὴ ἱππικῇ ἀλλʼ ἵπποις· οὐδὲ ἄλλη τέχνη οὐδεμία ἑαυτῇ—οὐδὲ γὰρ προσδεῖται—ἀλλʼ ἐκείνῳ οὗ τέχνη ἐστίν.
φαίνεται, ἔφη, οὕτως.
ἀλλὰ μήν, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, ἄρχουσί γε αἱ τέχναι καὶ κρατοῦσιν ἐκείνου οὗπέρ εἰσιν τέχναι.
συνεχώρησεν ἐνταῦθα καὶ μάλα μόγις.
οὐκ ἄρα ἐπιστήμη γε οὐδεμία τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον σκοπεῖ οὐδʼ ἐπιτάττει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τοῦ ἥττονός τε καὶ ἀρχομένου
Socrates which is ruled by it.” This too he was finally brought to admit though he tried to contest it. But when he had agreed—“Can we deny, then,” said I, “that neither does any physician in so far as he is a physician seek or enjoin the advantage of the physician but that of the patient? For we have agreed that the physician, “precisely” speaking, is a ruler and governor of bodies and not a moneymaker. Did we agree on that?” He assented. “And so the “precise” pilot is a ruler of sailors,
ὑπὸ ἑαυτῆς.
συνωμολόγησε μὲν καὶ ταῦτα τελευτῶν, ἐπεχείρει δὲ περὶ αὐτὰ μάχεσθαι· ἐπειδὴ δὲ ὡμολόγησεν, ἄλλο τι οὖν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὐδὲ ἰατρὸς οὐδείς, καθʼ ὅσον ἰατρός, τὸ τῷ ἰατρῷ συμφέρον σκοπεῖ οὐδʼ ἐπιτάττει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τῷ κάμνοντι; ὡμολόγηται γὰρ ὁ ἀκριβὴς ἰατρὸς σωμάτων εἶναι ἄρχων ἀλλʼ οὐ χρηματιστής. ἢ οὐχ ὡμολόγηται;
συνέφη.
οὐκοῦν καὶ ὁ κυβερνήτης ὁ ἀκριβὴς ναυτῶν εἶναι ἄρχων ἀλλʼ οὐ ναύτης;
Socrates not a sailor?” That was admitted. “Then that sort of a pilot and ruler will not consider and enjoin the advantage of the pilot but that of the sailor whose ruler he is.” He assented reluctantly. “Then,” said I, “Thrasymachus, neither does anyone in any office of rule in so far as he is a ruler consider and enjoin his own advantage but that of the one whom he rules and for whom he exercises his craft, and he keeps his eyes fixed on that and on what is advantageous and suitable to that in all that he says and does.”
ὡμολόγηται.
οὐκ ἄρα ὅ γε τοιοῦτος κυβερνήτης τε καὶ ἄρχων τὸ τῷ κυβερνήτῃ συμφέρον σκέψεταί τε καὶ προστάξει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τῷ ναύτῃ τε καὶ ἀρχομένῳ.
συνέφησε μόγις.
οὐκοῦν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Θρασύμαχε, οὐδὲ ἄλλος οὐδεὶς ἐν οὐδεμιᾷ ἀρχῇ, καθʼ ὅσον ἄρχων ἐστίν, τὸ αὑτῷ συμφέρον σκοπεῖ οὐδʼ ἐπιτάττει, ἀλλὰ τὸ τῷ ἀρχομένῳ καὶ ᾧ ἂν αὐτὸς δημιουργῇ, καὶ πρὸς ἐκεῖνο βλέπων καὶ τὸ ἐκείνῳ συμφέρον καὶ πρέπον, καὶ λέγει ἃ λέγει καὶ ποιεῖ ἃ ποιεῖ ἅπαντα.
When we had come to this point in the discussion and it was apparent to everybody that his formula of justice had suffered a reversal of form, Thrasymachus, instead of replying, said, “Tell me, Socrates, have you got a nurse?” “What do you mean?” said I. “Why didn’t you answer me instead of asking such a question?” “Because,” he said, “she lets her little “snotty” run about drivelling and doesn’t wipe your face clean, though you need it badly, if she can’t get you to know the difference between the shepherd and the sheep.” “And what, pray, makes you think that?” said I. “Because you think that the shepherds
ἐπειδὴ οὖν ἐνταῦθα ἦμεν τοῦ λόγου καὶ πᾶσι καταφανὲς ἦν ὅτι ὁ τοῦ δικαίου λόγος εἰς τοὐναντίον περιειστήκει, ὁ Θρασύμαχος ἀντὶ τοῦ ἀποκρίνεσθαι, εἰπέ μοι, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, τίτθη σοι ἔστιν;
τί δέ; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· οὐκ ἀποκρίνεσθαι χρῆν μᾶλλον ἢ τοιαῦτα ἐρωτᾶν;
ὅτι τοί σε, ἔφη, κορυζῶντα περιορᾷ καὶ οὐκ ἀπομύττει δεόμενον, ὅς γε αὐτῇ οὐδὲ πρόβατα οὐδὲ ποιμένα γιγνώσκεις.
ὅτι δὴ τί μάλιστα; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ.
and the neat-herds are considering the good of the sheep and the cattle and fatten and tend them with anything else in view than the good of their masters and themselves; and by the same token you seem to suppose that the rulers in our cities, I mean the real rulers, differ at all in their thoughts of the governed from a man’s attitude towards his sheep or that they think of anything else night and day than
ὅτι οἴει τοὺς ποιμένας ἢ τοὺς βουκόλους τὸ τῶν προβάτων ἢ τὸ τῶν βοῶν ἀγαθὸν σκοπεῖν καὶ παχύνειν αὐτοὺς καὶ θεραπεύειν πρὸς ἄλλο τι βλέποντας ἢ τὸ τῶν δεσποτῶν ἀγαθὸν καὶ τὸ αὑτῶν, καὶ δὴ καὶ τοὺς ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν ἄρχοντας, οἳ ὡς ἀληθῶς ἄρχουσιν, ἄλλως πως ἡγῇ διανοεῖσθαι πρὸς τοὺς ἀρχομένους ἢ ὥσπερ ἄν τις πρὸς πρόβατα διατεθείη, καὶ ἄλλο τι σκοπεῖν αὐτοὺς διὰ νυκτὸς καὶ ἡμέρας ἢ τοῦτο,
the sources of their own profit. And you are so far out concerning the just and justice and the unjust and injustice that you don’t know that justice and the just are literally the other fellow’s good—the advantage of the stronger and the ruler, but a detriment that is all his own of the subject who obeys and serves; while injustice is the contrary and rules those who are simple in every sense of the word and just, and they being thus ruled do what is for his advantage who is the stronger and make him happy
ὅθεν αὐτοὶ ὠφελήσονται. καὶ οὕτω πόρρω εἶ περί τε τοῦ δικαίου καὶ δικαιοσύνης καὶ ἀδίκου τε καὶ ἀδικίας, ὥστε ἀγνοεῖς ὅτι ἡ μὲν δικαιοσύνη καὶ τὸ δίκαιον ἀλλότριον ἀγαθὸν τῷ ὄντι, τοῦ κρείττονός τε καὶ ἄρχοντος συμφέρον, οἰκεία δὲ τοῦ πειθομένου τε καὶ ὑπηρετοῦντος βλάβη, ἡ δὲ ἀδικία τοὐναντίον, καὶ ἄρχει τῶν ὡς ἀληθῶς εὐηθικῶν τε καὶ δικαίων, οἱ δʼ ἀρχόμενοι ποιοῦσιν τὸ ἐκείνου συμφέρον κρείττονος ὄντος, καὶ εὐδαίμονα ἐκεῖνον ποιοῦσιν ὑπηρετοῦντες
in serving him, but themselves by no manner of means. And you must look at the matter, my simple-minded Socrates, in this way: that the just man always comes out at a disadvantage in his relation with the unjust. To begin with, in their business dealings in any joint undertaking of the two you will never find that the just man has the advantage over the unjust at the dissolution of the partnership but that he always has the worst of it. Then again, in their relations with the state, if there are direct taxes or contributions to be paid, the just man contributes more from an equal estate and the other less, and when there is a distribution
αὐτῷ, ἑαυτοὺς δὲ οὐδʼ ὁπωστιοῦν. σκοπεῖσθαι δέ, ὦ εὐηθέστατε Σώκρατες, οὑτωσὶ χρή, ὅτι δίκαιος ἀνὴρ ἀδίκου πανταχοῦ ἔλαττον ἔχει. πρῶτον μὲν ἐν τοῖς πρὸς ἀλλήλους συμβολαίοις, ὅπου ἂν ὁ τοιοῦτος τῷ τοιούτῳ κοινωνήσῃ, οὐδαμοῦ ἂν εὕροις ἐν τῇ διαλύσει τῆς κοινωνίας πλέον ἔχοντα τὸν δίκαιον τοῦ ἀδίκου ἀλλʼ ἔλαττον· ἔπειτα ἐν τοῖς πρὸς τὴν πόλιν, ὅταν τέ τινες εἰσφοραὶ ὦσιν, ὁ μὲν δίκαιος ἀπὸ τῶν ἴσων πλέον εἰσφέρει, ὁ δʼ ἔλαττον, ὅταν τε λήψεις,
the one gains much and the other nothing. And so when each holds office, apart from any other loss the just man must count on his own affairs falling into disorder through neglect, while because of his justice makes no profit from the state, and thereto he will displease his friends and his acquaintances by his unwillingness to serve them unjustly. But to the unjust man all the opposite advantages accrue.”
ὁ μὲν οὐδέν, ὁ δὲ πολλὰ κερδαίνει. καὶ γὰρ ὅταν ἀρχήν τινα ἄρχῃ ἑκάτερος, τῷ μὲν δικαίῳ ὑπάρχει, καὶ εἰ μηδεμία ἄλλη ζημία, τά γε οἰκεῖα διʼ ἀμέλειαν μοχθηροτέρως ἔχειν, ἐκ δὲ τοῦ δημοσίου μηδὲν ὠφελεῖσθαι διὰ τὸ δίκαιον εἶναι, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις ἀπεχθέσθαι τοῖς τε οἰκείοις καὶ τοῖς γνωρίμοις, ὅταν μηδὲν ἐθέλῃ αὐτοῖς ὑπηρετεῖν παρὰ τὸ δίκαιον· τῷ δὲ ἀδίκῳ πάντα τούτων τἀναντία ὑπάρχει.
Σωκράτης λέγω γὰρ
Page 5 of 73 · Republic, Plato , tr. Paul Shorey · Perseus Digital Library