Yes.
And that which was done foolishly, as we further admitted, was done in the opposite way to that which was done temperately?
Yes.
And that which was done temperately was done by temperance, and that which was done foolishly by folly?
He agreed.
And that which is done in opposite ways is done by opposites?
Yes.
And one thing is done by temperance, and quite another thing by folly?
Yes.
And in opposite ways?
Certainly.
And therefore by opposites:—then folly is the opposite of temperance?
Clearly.
And do you remember that folly has already been acknowledged by us to be the opposite of wisdom?
He assented.
And we said that everything has only one opposite?
Yes.
Then, Protagoras, which of the two assertions shall we renounce? One says that everything has but one opposite; the other that wisdom is distinct from temperance, and that both of them are parts of virtue; and that they are not only distinct, but dissimilar, both in themselves and in their functions, like the parts of a face. Which of these two assertions shall we renounce? For both of them together are certainly not in harmony; they do not accord or agree: for how can they be said to agree if everything is assumed to have only one opposite and not more than one, and yet folly, which is one, has clearly the two opposites—wisdom and temperance? Is not that true, Protagoras? What else would you say?
He assented, but with great reluctance.
Then temperance and wisdom are the same, as before justice and holiness appeared to us to be nearly the same. And now, Protagoras, I said, we must finish the enquiry, and not faint. Do you think that an unjust man can be temperate in his injustice?
I should be ashamed, Socrates, he said, to acknowledge this, which nevertheless many may be found to assert.
And shall I argue with them or with you? I replied.
I would rather, he said, that you should argue with the many first, if you will.
Whichever you please, if you will only answer me and say whether you are of their opinion or not. My object is to test the validity of the argument; and yet the result may be that I who ask and you who answer may both be put on our trial.
Protagoras at first made a show of refusing, as he said that the argument was not encouraging; at length, he consented to answer.