Soc. So please do me a favour and do not refuse to cure my soul; for you will be doing me much more good if you cure my soul of ignorance, than if you were to cure my body of disease. Now if you choose to deliver a long speech, I tell you beforehand that you would not cure me—for I could not follow you—but if you are willing to answer me, as you did just now, you will do me a great deal of good, and I think you yourself will not be injured, either. And I might fairly call upon you also, son of Apemantus, for help; for you stirred me up to converse with Hippias; so now, if Hippias is unwilling to answer me, ask him in my behalf to do so. Eud. Well, Socrates, I imagine Hippias will need no asking from us; for that is not what he announced; he announced that he would not avoid the questioning of any man. How is that, Hippias? Is not that what you said? Hipp. Yes, I did; but Socrates, Eudicus, always makes confusion in arguments, and seems to want to make trouble. Soc. Most excellent Hippias, I do not do these voluntarily at all—for then I should be wise and clever, according to you—but involuntarily, so forgive me; for you say, See 372. too, that he who does evil involuntarily ought to be forgiven. Eud. And do not refuse, Hippias; but for our sake, and also because of your previous announcements, answer any questions Socrates asks you. Hipp. Well, I will answer since you request it. Ask whatever questions you like. Soc. I certainly have a great desire, Hippias, to investigate what we are just at present talking about, namely which are better, those who err voluntarily or those who err involuntarily. Now I think the best way to go at the investigation is this. Just answer. Do you call some one a good runner? Hipp. I do. Soc. And a bad one? Hipp. Yes. Soc. Now, he who runs well is a good runner, and he who runs badly a bad one; is it not so? Hipp. Yes. Soc. Then does not he who runs slowly run badly, and he who runs fast run well? Hipp. Yes. Soc. In a race, then, and in running, rapidity is a good thing, and slowness an evil. Hipp. Why, of course. Soc. Which, then, is the better runner, he who runs slowly voluntarily or he who does so involuntarily? Hipp. He who does it voluntarily. Soc. Well, then, is not running doing something? Hipp. Yes, it is doing. Soc. And if doing, is it not also performing some act? Hipp. Yes. Soc. Then he who runs badly performs a bad and disgraceful act in a race? Hipp. Yes, a bad act of course. Soc. But he runs badly who runs slowly? Hipp. Yes. Soc. Then the good runner performs this bad and disgraceful act voluntarily, and the bad runner involuntarily? Hipp. So it seems. Soc. In running, then, he who does bad acts involuntarily is worse than he who does them voluntarily? Hipp. Yes, in running. Soc. And how is it in wrestling? Which is the better wrestler, he who is thrown voluntarily, or involuntarily? Hipp. He who is thrown voluntarily, as it seems. Soc. But is it worse and more disgraceful in a wrestling match to be thrown or to throw one’s opponent? Hipp. To be thrown. Soc. In wrestling also, then, he who performs bad and disgraceful acts voluntarily is a better wrestler than he who performs them involuntarily. Hipp. So it seems. Soc. And how is it in every other bodily exercise? Is not he who is the better man in respect to his body able to perform both kinds of acts, the strong and the weak, the disgraceful and the fine, so that whenever he performs bad acts of a bodily kind, he who is the better man in respect to his body does them voluntarily, but he who is worse does them involuntarily? Hipp. That seems to be the case in matters of strength also. Soc. And how about grace, Hippias? Does not the better body take ugly and bad postures voluntarily, and the worse body involuntarily? Or what is your opinion? Hipp. That is my opinion. Soc. Then ungracefulness when voluntary is associated with excellence of the body, but when involuntary with faultiness. Hipp. Apparently. Soc. And what do you say about the voice? Which do you say is the better? That which sings out of tune voluntarily, or involuntarily? Hipp. That which does it voluntarily. Soc. And that which does it involuntarily is the worse? Hipp. Yes. Soc. Would you choose to possess good or bad things? Hipp. Good ones. Soc. Would you, then, choose to possess feet that limp voluntarily, or involuntarily? Hipp. Voluntarily. Soc. But is not a limp faultiness and ungracefulness of the feet? Hipp. Yes. Soc. Well, is not dimness of sight faultiness of the eyes? Hipp. Yes. Soc. Which eyes, then, would you choose to possess and live with? Those with which one would see dimly and incorrectly voluntarily, or involuntarily? Hipp. Those with which one would do so voluntarily. Soc. Those parts, then, of yourself which voluntarily act badly you consider better than those which do so involuntarily? Hipp. Yes; that is, in matters of that sort. Soc. Well, then, one statement embraces all alike, such as ears and nose and mouth and all the senses —that those which act badly involuntarily are undesirable because they are bad, and those which do so voluntarily are desirable because they are good. Hipp. I think so. Soc. Well now, which instruments are better to have to do with, those with which a man does bad work voluntarily, or involuntarily? For instance, is a rudder better with which a man will involuntarily steer badly, or one with which he will do so voluntarily? Hipp. One with which he will do so voluntarily. Soc. And is not the same true of a bow and a lyre and flutes and all the rest?