How about the combined life, Protarchus, made up by a union of the two?

You mean a union of pleasure with mind or wisdom?

Yes, I mean a union of such elements.

Every one will prefer this life to either of the two others—yes, every single person without exception.

Then do we understand the consequences of what we are now saying?

Certainly. Three lives have been proposed, and of two of them neither is sufficient or desirable for man or any other living being.

Then is it not already clear that neither of these two contained the good for if it did contain the good, it would be sufficient and perfect, and such as to be chosen by all living creatures which would be able to live thus all their lives; and if any of us chose anything else, he would be choosing contrary to the nature of the truly desirable, not of his own free will, but from ignorance or some unfortunate necessity.

That seems at any rate to be true.

And so I think we have sufficiently proved that Philebus’s divinity is not to be considered identical with the good.

But neither is your mind the good, Socrates; it will be open to the same objections.

My mind, perhaps, Philebus; but not so, I believe, the true mind, which is also divine; that is different. I do not as yet claim for mind the victory over the combined life, but we must look and see what is to be done about the second place; for each of us might perhaps put forward a claim, one that mind is the cause of this combined life, the other that pleasure is the cause and thus neither of these two would be the good, but one or the other of them might be regarded as the cause of the good. On this point I might keep up the fight all the more against Philebus and contend that in this mixed life it is mind that is more akin and more similar than pleasure to that, whatever it may be, which makes it both desirable and good; and from this point of view pleasure could advance no true claim to the first or even the second place. It is farther behind than the third place, if my mind is at all to be trusted at present.

Certainly, Socrates, it seems to me that pleasure has fought for the victory and has fallen in this bout, knocked down by your words. And we can only say, as it seems, that mind was wise in not laying claim to the victory; for it would have met with the same fate. Now pleasure, if she were to lose the second prize, would be deeply humiliated in the eyes of her lovers; for she would no longer appear even to them so lovely as before.

Well, then, is it not better to leave her now and not to pain her by testing her to the utmost and proving her in the wrong?

Nonsense, Socrates!

Nonsense because I spoke of paining pleasure, and that is impossible?

Not only that, but because you do not understand that not one of us will let you go yet until you have finished the argument about these matters.

Whew, Protarchus! Then we have a long discussion before us, and not an easy one, either, this time. For in going ahead to fight mind’s battle for the second place, I think I need a new contrivance—other weapons, as it were, than those of our previous discussion, though perhaps some of the old ones will serve. Must I then go on?

Of course you must.

Then let us try to be careful in making our beginning.

What kind of a beginning do you mean?

Let us divide all things that now exist in the universe into two, or rather, if you please, three classes.

Please tell us on what principle you would divide them.

Let us take some of the subjects of our present discussion.

What subjects?

We said that God revealed in the universe two elements, the infinite and the finite, did we not?

Certainly.

Let us, then, assume these as two of our classes, and a third, made by combining these two. But I cut a ridiculous figure, it seems, when I attempt a division into classes and an enumeration.

What do you mean, my friend?

I think we need a fourth class besides.

Tell us what it is.

Note the cause of the combination of those two and assume that as the fourth in addition to the previous three.

And then will you not need a fifth, which has the power of separation?

Perhaps; but not at present, I think. However, if we do need a fifth, you will pardon me for going after it.

Of course.

First, then, let us take three of the four and, as we see that two of these are split up and scattered each one into many, let us try, by collecting each of them again into one, to learn how each of them was both one and many.

If you could tell me more clearly about them, I might be able to follow you.