Protarchus: Yes.
Socrates: And shall we not find them also full of the most wonderful pleasures? need I remind you of the anger
“Which stirs even a wise man to violence, And is sweeter than honey and the honeycomb?”
And you remember how pleasures mingle with pains in lamentation and bereavement?
Protarchus: Yes, there is a natural connection between them.
Socrates: And you remember also how at the sight of tragedies the spectators smile through their tears?
Protarchus: Certainly I do.
Socrates: And are you aware that even at a comedy the soul experiences a mixed feeling of pain and pleasure?
Protarchus: I do not quite understand you.
Socrates: I admit, Protarchus, that there is some difficulty in recognizing this mixture of feelings at a comedy.
Protarchus: There is, I think.
Socrates: And the greater the obscurity of the case the more desirable is the examination of it, because the difficulty in detecting other cases of mixed pleasures and pains will be less.
Protarchus: Proceed.
Socrates: I have just mentioned envy; would you not call that a pain of the soul?
Protarchus: Yes.
Socrates: And yet the envious man finds something in the misfortunes of his neighbours at which he is pleased?
Protarchus: Certainly.
Socrates: And ignorance, and what is termed clownishness, are surely an evil?
Protarchus: To be sure.
Socrates: From these considerations learn to know the nature of the ridiculous.
Protarchus: Explain.
Socrates: The ridiculous is in short the specific name which is used to describe the vicious form of a certain habit; and of vice in general it is that kind which is most at variance with the inscription at Delphi.
Protarchus: You mean, Socrates, “Know thyself.”
Socrates: I do; and the opposite would be, “Know not thyself.”
Protarchus: Certainly.