Soc. Here my answer would be: As to the substance of it, you heard aright, but you made a mistake in thinking that I had any share in that statement. It was Protagoras here who made that answer; I was only the questioner. Then suppose he were to ask: Is our friend telling the truth, Protagoras? Is it you who say that one part of virtue is not like another? Is this statement yours? What answer would you give him?
 I must needs admit it, Socrates, he said.
 Well now, Protagoras, after that admission, what answer shall we give him, if he goes on to ask this question: Is not holiness something of such nature as to be just, and justice such as to be holy, or can it be unholy? Can holiness be not just, and therefore unjust, and justice unholy? What is to be our reply? I should say myself, on my own behalf, that both justice is holy and holiness just, and with your permission I would make this same reply for you also; since justness is either the same thing as holiness or extremely like it, and above all, justice is of the same kind as holiness, and holiness as justice. Are you minded to forbid this answer, or are you in agreement with it?
 I do not take quite so simple a view of it, Socrates, as to grant that justice is holy and holiness just. I think we have to make a distinction here. Yet what difference does it make? he said: if you like, let us assume that justice is holy and holiness just. 
 No, no, I said; I do not want this if you like or if you agree sort of thing cf. below, Plat. Prot. 333c . to be put to the proof, but you and me together; and when I say you and me I mean that our statement will be most properly tested if we take away the if. 
 Well, at any rate, he said, justice has some resemblance to holiness; for anything in the world has some sort of resemblance to any other thing. Thus there is a point in which white resembles black, and hard soft, and so with all the other things which are regarded as most opposed to each other; and the things which we spoke of before as having different faculties and not being of the same kind as each other—the parts of the face—these in some sense resemble one another and are of like sort. In this way therefore you could prove, if you chose, that even these things are all like one another. But it is not fair to describe things as like which have some point alike, however small, or ash unlike that have some point unlike. 
 This surprised me, and I said to him: What, do you regard just and holy as so related to each other that they have only some small point of likeness? Soc. Not so, he replied, at all, nor yet, on the other hand, as I believe you regard them. 
 Well then, I said, since I find you chafe at this suggestion, we will let it pass, and consider another instance that you gave. Is there a thing you call folly?
 Yes, he said.
 Is not the direct opposite to that thing wisdom?
 I think so, he said.
 And when men behave rightly and usefully, do you consider them temperate in so behaving, or the opposite?
 Temperate, he said. 
 
 Then is it by temperance that they are temperate?
 Necessarily. 
 Now those who do not behave rightly behave foolishly, and are not temperate in so behaving?
 I agree, he said.
 And behaving foolishly is the opposite to behaving temperately?
 Yes, he said.
 Now foolish behavior is due to folly, and temperate behavior to temperance?
 He assented.
 And whatever is done by strength is done strongly, and whatever by weakness, weakly?
 He agreed.
 And whatever with swiftness, swiftly, and whatever with slowness, slowly ? 
 And so whatever is done in a certain way is done by that kind of faculty, and whatever in an opposite way, by the opposite kind?
 He agreed.
 Pray now, I proceeded, is there such a thing as the beautiful?
 He granted it.
 Has this any opposite except the ugly?
 None. 
 Well, is there such a thing as the good?
 There is. 
 Has it any opposite but the evil?
 None. 
 Tell me, is there such a thing as shrill in the voice?
 Yes, he said.
 Has it any other opposite than deep. 
 No, he said.
 Now, I went on, each single opposite has but one opposite, not many?
 He admitted this.
 Come now, I said, let us reckon up our points of agreement. We have agreed that one thing has but one opposite, and no more?
 We have. 
 And that what is done in an opposite way is done by opposites?
 Yes, he said.
 And we have agreed that what is done foolishly is done in an opposite way to what is done temperately?
 Yes, he said.
 And that what is done temperately is done by temperance, and what foolishly by folly? 
 
 He assented.
 Now if it is done in an opposite way, it must be done by an opposite?
 Yes? 
 And one is done by temperance, and the other by folly?
 Yes. 
 In an opposite way?
 Certainly. 
 And by opposite faculties?
 Yes. 
 Then folly is opposite to temperance
 Apparently. 
 Now do you recollect that in the previous stage we have agreed that folly is opposite to wisdom?
 He admitted this. Soc. And that one thing has but one opposite? 
 Yes . 
 Then which, Protagoras, of our propositions are we to reject—the statement that one thing has but one opposite; or the other, that wisdom is different from temperance, and each is a part of virtue, and moreover, a different part, and that the two are as unlike, both in themselves and in their faculties, as the parts of the face? Which are we to upset? The two of them together are not quite in tune; they do not chime in harmony. How could they, if one thing must needs have but one opposite and no more, while wisdom, and temperance likewise, appear both to be opposite to folly, which is a single thing? Such is the position, Protagoras, I said or is it otherwise?
 He admitted it was so, much against his will.
 Then temperance and wisdom must be one thing? And indeed we found before that justice and holiness were almost the same thing. Come, Protagoras, I said, let us not falter, but carry out our inquiry to the end. Tell me, does a man who acts unjustly seem to you to be temperate in so acting?
 I should be ashamed, Socrates, he replied, to admit that, in spite of what many people say. 
 Then shall I address my argument to them, I asked, or to you?
 If you please, he answered, debate first against that popular theory. 
 It is all the same to me, I said, so long as you make answer, whether it be your own opinion or not. For although my first object is to test the argument, the result perhaps will be that both I, the questioner, and my respondent are brought to the test. 
 At first Protagoras appeared to be coy, alleging that the argument was too disconcerting: however he consented at length to make answer. Well now, I said, begin at the beginning, and tell me, do you consider people to be temperate when they are unjust?
 Let us suppose so, he said.
 And by being temperate you mean being sensible?
 Yes. 
 And being sensible is being well-advised in their injustice?
 Let us grant it, he said.
 Does this mean, I asked, if they fare well by their injustice, or if they fare ill?
 If they fare well. 
 Now do you say there are things that are good?
 I do. 
 Then, I asked, are those things good which are profitable to men? 
 Oh yes, to be sure, he replied, and also when they are not profitable to men I call them good. 
 Here Protagoras seemed to me to be in a thoroughly provoked and harassed state, and to have set his face against answering: so when I saw him in this mood I grew wary and went gently with my questions. Soc. Do you mean, Protagoras, I asked, things that are profitable to no human being, or things not profitable in any way at all? Can you call such things as these good?
 By no means, he replied; but I know a number of things that are unprofitable to men, namely, foods, drinks, drugs, and countless others, and some that are profitable; some that are neither one nor the other to men, but are one or the other to horses; and some that are profitable only to cattle, or again to dogs; some also that are not profitable to any of those, but are to trees; and some that are good for the roots of a tree, but bad for its shoots—such as dung, which is a good thing when applied to the roots of all plants, whereas if you chose to cast it on the young twigs and branches, it will ruin all. And oil too is utterly bad for all plants, and most deadly for the hair of all animals save that of man, while to the hair of man it is helpful, as also to the rest of his body. The good is such an elusive and diverse thing that in this instance it is good for the outward parts of man’s body, but at the same time as bad as can be for the inward; and for this reason all doctors forbid the sick to take oil, except the smallest possible quantity, in what one is going to eat—just enough to quench the loathing that arises in the sensations of one’s nostrils from food and its dressings. Probably such oil had a specially appetizing flavor or scent. 
 When he had thus spoken, the company acclaimed it as an excellent answer; and then I remarked: Protagoras, I find I am a forgetful sort of person, and if someone addresses me at any length I forget the subject on which he is talking. So, just as you, in entering on a discussion with me, would think fit to speak louder to me than to others if I happened to be hard of hearing, please bear in mind now that you have to deal with a forgetful person, and therefore cut up your answers into shorter pieces, that I may be able to follow you.
 Well, what do you mean by short answers? he asked: do you want me to make them shorter than they should be? 
 Not at all, I said. 
 As long as they should be? he asked. 
 Yes, I said. 
 Then are my answers to be as long as I think they should be, or as you think they should be?