The Complete Works of Plato

it appears more beautiful to that person. To many, therefore, O Polemarchus, it will happen—as many as have missed the mark—that it is just to harm friends, for they are wicked to them; and to benefit enemies, for they are good. And thus we shall arrive at the very opposite of what we said Simonides meant. He said that this happens, but let us change our position. For we are in danger of not having defined the friend and the enemy correctly. How did we define them, O Polemarchus? That he who seems good is a friend. And now, I asked, how shall we change it? That he who seems to us to be good, and is, is a friend; but he who seems to be so, but is not, seems to be but is not a friend; and the same position regarding the enemy. Thus, as it seems by this argument, the good man will be a friend, and the wicked man an enemy. Yes. Do you then bid us add to what we said about the just man—that it is just to benefit the friend and harm the enemy—now, in addition to this, to say: that it is just to benefit the friend when he is a good man, and to harm the enemy when he is a wicked man? Certainly, he said; it seems to me that would be well spoken. Is it then, I asked, the work of a just man to harm any man at all? By all means, he said, one must harm those who are both wicked and enemies. Do horses, when they are harmed, become better or worse? Worse. And does this refer to the excellence of dogs or of horses? Of horses. So too, when dogs are harmed, do they become worse in the excellence of dogs, but not in the excellence of horses? Of necessity. And shall we not say, O comrade, that human beings, when harmed, become worse in human excellence? By all means. But is justice not a human excellence? That too is of necessity. And so, my friend, those human beings who are harmed must necessarily become more wicked. It seems so. Therefore, are musicians able to make men unmusical by the art of music? Impossible. Or are horsemen able to make men unhorsemanlike by horsemanship? That is not possible. Or can the just by justice make men unjust? Or, in sum, can the good by virtue make men wicked? But that is impossible. For it is not the work of heat, I think, to cool, but of its opposite. Yes. Nor is it the work of dryness to moisten, but of its opposite. Certainly. Nor indeed is it the work of the good to harm, but of its opposite. So it appears. But is the just man good? Certainly. It is not, therefore, the work of the just man to harm anyone, O Polemarchus, neither a friend nor anyone else, but the work of his opposite, the unjust man. You seem to me to speak the truth in every way, O Socrates, he said. If, therefore, anyone says it is just to render to each what is owed, and he understands by this that harm is owed to enemies by the just man, and benefit to friends, he who said this was not wise; for he was not speaking the truth. For it appeared to us that in no way is it just to harm anyone. I agree, he said. We shall fight then, I said, I and you together, if anyone says that Simonides, or Bias, or Pittacus, or any other of the wise and blessed men said this. I, at least, he said, am ready to join in the battle. But do you know, I said, to whom I think this statement belongs—that it is just to benefit friends and harm enemies? To whom? I think it belongs to Periander, or Perdiccas, or Xerxes, or Ismenias the Theban, or some other such rich man who thought he had great power. You speak most truly, he said. Be it so, I said; since it appeared that this is not justice, nor is the just man [so defined], what else might one say it is? And Thrasymachus, even while we were talking, had many times started to interrupt the argument. Then he was held back by those sitting nearby, who wished to hear the argument to the end. But when we paused and I said these things, he could no longer keep quiet. But gathering himself up like a wild beast, he sprang upon us as if he would tear us apart. And I and Polemarchus, being afraid, were startled. He, calling out into the midst, said, What is this long nonsense that has taken hold of you, O Socrates? And why do you behave so sillily toward one another, yielding to one another? But if you truly wish to know what justice is, do not only ask; nor be ambitious to refute whenever someone answers anything, having recognized this, that it is easier to ask than to answer; but answer also yourself, and say what you claim justice to be.