HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Are you, then, merely wisest and most powerful, or are you also best in those things in which you are most powerful and wisest, that is, in arithmetic?
HIPPIAS: Best also, for sure, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then would you tell the truth most powerfully about these things?
[e] HIPPIAS: I think so.
SOCRATES: But what about falsehoods about these same things? Please answer with the same nobility and grandeur you showed before, Hippias. If someone were to ask you what three times seven hundred is, could you lie the best, always consistently say falsehoods about these things, if you [367] wished to lie and never to tell the truth? Or would one who is ignorant of calculations have more power than you to lie if he wished to? Don’t you think the ignorant person would often involuntarily tell the truth when he wished to say falsehoods, if it so happened, because he didn’t know; whereas you, the wise person, if you should wish to lie, would always consistently lie?
HIPPIAS: Yes, it is just as you say.
SOCRATES: Is the liar, then, a liar about other things but not about number—he wouldn’t lie about numbers?
HIPPIAS: But yes, by Zeus, about numbers, too.
[b] SOCRATES: So we should also maintain this, Hippias, that there is such a person as a liar about calculation and number.
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Who would this person be? Mustn’t he have the power to lie, as you just now agreed, if he is going to be a liar? If you remember, you said that one who did not have the power to lie could never become a liar.
HIPPIAS: I remember. I said that.
SOCRATES: And were you not just now shown to have the most power to lie about calculations?
HIPPIAS: Yes. I said that, too.
SOCRATES: Do you, therefore, have the most power to tell the truth [c] about calculations?
HIPPIAS: Of course.
SOCRATES: Then the same person has the most power both to say falsehoods and to tell the truth about calculations. And this person is the one who is good with regard to these things, the arithmetician?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then who becomes a liar about calculations, Hippias, other than the good person? For the same person is also powerful, and truthful, as well.
HIPPIAS: Apparently.
SOCRATES: Do you see, then, that the same person is both a liar and truthful about these things, and the truthful person is no better than the [d] liar? For, indeed, he is the same person and the two are not complete opposites, as you supposed just now.
HIPPIAS: He does not appear to be, at least in this field.
SOCRATES: Do you wish to investigate some other field, then?
HIPPIAS: If you wish.
SOCRATES: All right. Are you not also experienced in geometry?
HIPPIAS: I am.
SOCRATES: Well, then. Isn’t it the same way in geometry? Doesn’t the same person have the most power to lie and to tell the truth about geometrical diagrams, namely, the geometer?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Is anyone else good at these things, or the geometer?
HIPPIAS: No one else. [e]
SOCRATES: The good and wise geometer, then, is the most powerful in both respects, isn’t he? And if anyone could be a liar about diagrams, it would be this person, the good geometer? For he has the power to lie, but the bad one is powerless; and one who does not have the power to lie cannot become a liar, as you agreed.
HIPPIAS: That’s right.
SOCRATES: Let us investigate a third person, the astronomer, whose craft you think you know even better than the preceding ones. Right, Hippias? [368]
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Aren’t the same things true in astronomy, also?
HIPPIAS: Probably, Socrates.
SOCRATES: In astronomy, too, if anyone is a liar, it will be the good astronomer, he who has the power to lie. Certainly it won’t be the one who does not have the power; for he is ignorant.
HIPPIAS: That’s the way it appears.
SOCRATES: So the same person will be truthful and a liar in astronomy.
HIPPIAS: So it seems.
[b] SOCRATES: Come then, Hippias. Examine all the sciences similarly. Is there any that’s different from these, or are they all like this? You are the wisest of people in the greatest number of crafts, as I once heard you boasting. In the marketplace, next to the tables of the bankers, you told of your great and enviable wisdom. You said that you had once gone to Olympia with everything you had on your body the product of your own work. First, the ring you were wearing—you began with that—was your [c] own work, showing that you knew how to engrave rings. And another signet, too, was your work, and a strigil3 and an oil bottle, which you had made. Then you said that you yourself had cut from leather the sandals you were wearing, and had woven your cloak and tunic. And what seemed to everyone most unusual and an exhibition of the greatest wisdom was when you said that the belt you wore around your tunic was like the very expensive Persian ones, and that you had plaited it yourself. In addition to these things, you said that you brought poems with you—epic, tragic, [d] and dithyrambs, and many writings of all sorts in prose. You said you came with knowledge that distinguished you from all others on the subjects I was just now speaking of, and also about rhythms, and harmony, and the correctness of letters, and many other things besides, as I seem to remember. But I’ve forgotten to mention your artful technique (as it seems) of memory, in which you think you are most brilliant. I suppose I have [e] forgotten a great many other things, as well. But, as I say, look both at your own crafts—for they are sufficient—and also those of others, and tell me, in accordance with what you and I have agreed upon, if you find any case in which one person is truthful and another (distinct, not the same) [369] person is a liar. Look for one in whatever sort of wisdom or villainy you like, or whatever you want to call it; but you will not find it, my friend, for none exists. So tell me!
HIPPIAS: But I can’t, Socrates; at least not offhand.
SOCRATES: And you never will, I think. But if what I say is true, you will remember what follows from our argument.
HIPPIAS: I don’t entirely understand what you mean, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Presumably that’s because you are not using your memory technique; plainly, you don’t think you need it. But I will remind you. [b] You realize that you said that Achilles was truthful, whereas Odysseus was a liar and wily?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: You are now aware, then, that the same person has been discovered to be a liar and truthful, so that if Odysseus was a liar, he also becomes truthful, and if Achilles was truthful, he also becomes a liar, and these two men are not different from one another, nor opposites, but similar?
HIPPIAS: Oh, Socrates! You’re always weaving arguments of this kind. You pick out whatever is the most difficult part of the argument, and [c] fasten on to it in minute detail, and don’t dispute about the whole subject under discussion. So now, if you wish, I’ll prove to you by sufficient argument, based upon much evidence, that Homer made Achilles better than Odysseus and not a liar, whereas he made the latter deceitful, a teller of many lies, and worse than Achilles. If you wish, you may then offer counterarguments to mine, to the effect that the other is better. That way, these people here will know more which of us speaks better.
SOCRATES: Hippias, I don’t dispute that you are wiser than I, but it is [d] always my custom to pay attention when someone is saying something, especially when the speaker seems to me to be wise. And because I desire to learn what he means, I question him thoroughly and examine and place side-by-side the things he says, so I can learn. If the speaker seems to me to be some worthless person, I neither ask questions nor do I care what he says. This is how you’ll recognize whom I consider wise. You’ll find me being persistent about what’s said by this sort of person, questioning [e] him so that I can benefit by learning something. And so now I noticed as you were speaking, that in the lines you just now recited—t
o show that Achilles speaks to Odysseus as if Odysseus were a fraud—it seems ridiculous to me, if you speak truly, that Odysseus (the wily one), is nowhere portrayed as lying, whereas Achilles is portrayed as a wily person according [370] to your argument. In any case, he lies. For he begins by saying the lines which you just now recited:
For as hateful to me as the gates of Hades
Is he who hides one thing in his mind, and says another.
A little later he says he wouldn’t be persuaded by Odysseus and Agamemnon, [b] and wouldn’t stay in Troy at all. But, he says,
Tomorrow, when I have sacrificed to Zeus and all the gods,
And loaded my ships, having dragged them to the sea,
You will see, if you want to, and if you care about such things,
My ships sailing very early on the fish-filled Hellespont,
And in them, the men eagerly rowing. [c]
And if the glorious Earth-shaker should grant a fair voyage,
On the third day I should come to fertile Phthia.4
And before that, when he was insulting Agamemnon, he said,
Now I am going to Phthia, because it is much better
To go home with my curved ships. I do not think
[d] I will stay here dishonored, and pile up riches and wealth for you.5
Although he said these things—once before the entire army and once before his colleagues—nowhere is he shown to have prepared or tried to drag down the ships to sail home. Rather, he shows quite a noble contempt for telling the truth. So, Hippias, I’ve been questioning you from the [e] beginning because I’m confused as to which of these two men was represented as better by the poet, thinking that both were “best and bravest” and that it’s hard to discern which is better, with regard both to lying and to truth, and to virtue, as well; for in this, also, the two are quite similar.
HIPPIAS: That’s because you don’t look at it right, Socrates. When Achilles lies, he’s portrayed as lying not on purpose but involuntarily, forced to stay and help by the misfortune of the army. But the lies of Odysseus are voluntary and on purpose.
SOCRATES: You’re deceiving me, my dear Hippias, and are yourself imitating Odysseus!
[371] HIPPIAS: Not at all, Socrates! What do you mean? What are you referring to?
SOCRATES: To your saying that Achilles didn’t lie on purpose—he, who was also such a cheat and a schemer in addition to his fraudulence, as Homer has represented him. He’s shown to be so much more intelligent than Odysseus in easily defrauding him without being noticed, that right in front of the other, he dared to contradict himself and Odysseus didn’t notice. In any case, Odysseus isn’t portrayed as saying anything to him [b] which shows that he perceived his lying.
HIPPIAS: What are you talking about, Socrates?
SOCRATES: Don’t you know that after he said to Odysseus that he would sail away at dawn, he doesn’t say again that he’s going to sail away when he speaks to Ajax, but says something different?
HIPPIAS: Where?
SOCRATES: In the lines in which he says,
I will not think of bloody war
[c]Until the son of thoughtful Priam, noble Hector
Comes to the tents and the ships of the Myrmidons,
Killing Argives, and burns the ships with blazing fire.
But at my tent and my black ship
I think Hector himself, though eager for battle, will stop.6
[d] So, Hippias; do you think the son of Thetis, who was taught by the most wise Chiron, was so forgetful that—though a little earlier he had insulted fraudulent people with the most extreme insults—he himself said to Odysseus that he was going to sail away, and to Ajax that he was going to stay? And he wasn’t doing this on purpose, supposing that Odysseus was an old fool, and that he himself could get the better of him by precisely such conniving and lying?
HIPPIAS: It doesn’t seem that way to me, Socrates. Rather, in these things, [e] too, it was because of his guilelessness7 that he was led to say something different to Ajax and to Odysseus. But when Odysseus tells the truth, he always has a purpose, and when he lies, it’s the same.
SOCRATES: Then it seems that Odysseus is better than Achilles after all.
HIPPIAS: Not at all, surely, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Why not? Didn’t it emerge just now that the voluntary liars are better than the involuntary ones?
HIPPIAS: But Socrates, how could those who are voluntarily unjust, and [372] are voluntary and purposeful evil-doers, be better than those who act that way involuntarily? For these people, there seems to be much lenience, when they act unjustly without knowing, or lie, or do some other evil. The laws, too, are surely much harsher towards those who do evil and lie voluntarily than towards those who do so involuntarily.
SOCRATES: You see, Hippias, that I am telling the truth when I say that [b] I’m persistent in questioning wise people? It may be that this is the only good trait I have and that all the others I have are quite worthless. I make mistakes as to the way things are, and don’t know how they are—I find it sufficient evidence of this that when I am with one of you who are highly regarded for wisdom, and to whose wisdom all the Greeks bear witness, I show myself to know nothing. For I think pretty well none of the same things as you do; yet what greater evidence of ignorance is there [c] than when someone disagrees with wise men? But I have one wonderfully good trait, which saves me: I’m not ashamed to learn. I inquire and ask questions and I’m very grateful to the one who answers, and I’ve never failed in gratitude to anyone. I’ve never denied it when I’ve learned anything, pretending that what I learned was my own discovery. Instead, I sing the praises of the one who taught me as a wise person, and proclaim what I learned from him. So indeed now, I don’t agree with what you are [d] saying but disagree very strongly. But I know very well that this is my fault—it’s because I’m the sort of person I am, not to say anything better of myself than I deserve. To me, Hippias, it appears entirely the opposite to what you say: those who harm people and commit injustice and lie and cheat and go wrong voluntarily, rather than involuntarily, are better than those who do so involuntarily. However, sometimes I believe the opposite, and I go back and forth about all this—plainly because I don’t know. But [e] now at this moment a fit of lightheadedness has come over me, and I think those who voluntarily go wrong regarding something are better than those who do so involuntarily. I blame the preceding arguments for my present condition, making it appear to me now that those who do any of these things involuntarily are more worthless than those who do them voluntarily. [373] So please be nice and don’t refuse to cure my soul. You’ll do me a much greater good if you give my soul relief from ignorance, than if you gave my body relief from disease. But if you wish to give a long speech, I tell you in advance that you wouldn’t cure me, for I couldn’t follow you. If you are willing to answer me as you did just now, you’ll benefit me a great deal, and I think you yourself won’t be harmed. I might justly call for your help, too, son of Apemantus, for you goaded me into a discussion with Hippias. So now, if Hippias isn’t willing to answer me, ask him for me.
[b] EUDICUS: Well, Socrates, I don’t think Hippias will need us to plead with him. For that’s not what he said earlier; he said that he wouldn’t flee from any man’s questioning. Right, Hippias? Isn’t that what you said?
HIPPIAS: I did. But Socrates always creates confusion in arguments, and seems to argue unfairly.
SOCRATES: Oh excellent Hippias, I don’t do that voluntarily, for then I’d be wise and awesome, according to your argument, but involuntarily. So please be lenient with me, for you say that one who acts unfairly involuntarily should be treated leniently.
[c] EUDICUS: By all means don’t do otherwise, Hippias. For our sakes and for the sake of what you said earlier, answer what Socrates asks you.
HIPPIAS: I will answer, then, since you beg me to. Ask whatever you wish.
SOCRATES: I want very much, Hippias, to investigate what we were just now saying: whether those w
ho go wrong voluntarily, or those who go wrong involuntarily are better. I think the most correct way to pursue our investigation is as follows. You answer. Do you call one sort of runner a good one?
[d] HIPPIAS: I do.
SOCRATES: And one sort bad?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: You think one who runs well is a good runner; one who runs badly, a bad one?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And one who runs slowly runs badly, and one who runs quickly runs well?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: In a race, then, and in running, quickness is a good thing, and slowness, bad?
HIPPIAS: What else would it be?
SOCRATES: Which one is the better runner, then: the one who runs slowly voluntarily, or the one who does so involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: The one who does so voluntarily.
SOCRATES: And isn’t running doing something?
HIPPIAS: Doing something, of course.
SOCRATES: If doing, doesn’t it also accomplish something?
[e] HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: So one who runs badly accomplishes something bad and shameful in a race?
HIPPIAS: Bad; how else?
SOCRATES: One who runs slowly runs badly?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: So the good runner voluntarily accomplishes this bad and shameful thing, and the bad runner, involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: So it seems, at least.
SOCRATES: In a race, then, one who accomplishes bad things involuntarily is more worthless than one who does them voluntarily?
HIPPIAS: In a race, at least. [374]
SOCRATES: What about in wrestling? Which is the better wrestler, one who falls down voluntarily, or involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: One who does so voluntarily, it seems.
SOCRATES: Is it more worthless and shameful in wrestling to fall down or to knock down the opponent?
HIPPIAS: To fall down.
SOCRATES: So also in wrestling, one who voluntarily has worthless and shameful accomplishments is a better wrestler than one who has them involuntarily.
Complete Works Page 143