§160ἡ δʼ ἀγχίνοια οὐχὶ ὀξύτης τίς ἐστιν τῆς ψυχῆς ἀλλʼ οὐχὶ ἡσυχία; ἀληθῆ. οὐκοῦν καὶ τὸ συνιέναι τὰ λεγόμενα, καὶ ἐν γραμματιστοῦ καὶ κιθαριστοῦ καὶ ἄλλοθι πανταχοῦ, οὐχ ὡς ἡσυχαίτατα ἀλλʼ ὡς τάχιστά ἐστι κάλλιστα; ναί. ἀλλὰ μὴν ἔν γε ταῖς ζητήσεσιν τῆς ψυχῆς καὶ τῷ βουλεύεσθαι οὐχ ὁ ἡσυχιώτατος, ὡς ἐγὼ οἶμαι, καὶ μόγις βουλευόμενός τε καὶ ἀνευρίσκων ἐπαίνου δοκεῖ ἄξιος εἶναι, ἀλλʼ ὁ ῥᾷστά τε καὶ τάχιστα τοῦτο δρῶν. ἔστιν ταῦτα, ἔφη.
"And is not quickness of mind a certain sharpness of the soul, and not quietness?" "True." "Therefore, is not also understanding what is said, both at the writing-master's and the lyre-player's, and everywhere else, most beautiful when done not as quietly as possible, but as quickly as possible?" "Yes." "But indeed, in the searchings of the soul and in deliberating, is it not that, as I think, not the quietest person who deliberates and finds out with difficulty seems worthy of praise, but the one who does this most easily and quickly?" "That is so," he said.
οὐκοῦν πάντα, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Χαρμίδη, ἡμῖν καὶ τὰ περὶ τὴν ψυχὴν καὶ τὰ περὶ τὸ σῶμα, τὰ τοῦ τάχους τε καὶ τῆς ὀξύτητος καλλίω φαίνεται ἢ τὰ τῆς βραδυτῆτός τε καὶ ἡσυχιότητος; κινδυνεύει, ἔφη.
"Therefore," I said, "Charmides, do all things for us, both those concerning the soul and those concerning the body—those of quickness and sharpness—appear more beautiful than those of slowness and quietness?" "It is likely," he said.
οὐκ ἄρα ἡσυχιότης τις ἡ σωφροσύνη ἂν εἴη, οὐδʼ ἡσύχιος ὁ σώφρων βίος, ἔκ γε τούτου τοῦ λόγου, ἐπειδὴ καλὸν αὐτὸν δεῖ εἶναι σώφρονα ὄντα.
"Therefore, temperance would not be a certain quietness, nor would the temperate life be quiet, at least from this argument, since it must be beautiful, being temperate.
δυοῖν γὰρ δὴ τὰ ἕτερα· ἢ οὐδαμοῦ ἡμῖν ἢ πάνυ που ὀλιγαχοῦ αἱ ἡσύχιοι πράξεις ἐν τῷ βίῳ καλλίους ἐφάνησαν ἢ αἱ ταχεῖαί τε καὶ ἰσχυραί.
For surely one of two things must hold: either nowhere in our life did quiet actions appear more beautiful than quick and vigorous ones, or else in very few places.
εἰ δʼ οὖν, ὦ φίλε, ὅτι μάλιστα μηδὲν ἐλάττους αἱ ἡσύχιοι τῶν σφοδρῶν τε καὶ ταχειῶν πράξεων τυγχάνουσιν καλλίους οὖσαι, οὐδὲ ταύτῃ σωφροσύνη ἂν εἴη μᾶλλόν τι τὸ ἡσυχῇ πράττειν ἢ τὸ σφόδρα τε καὶ ταχέως, οὔτε ἐν βαδισμῷ οὔτε ἐν λέξει οὔτε ἄλλοθι οὐδαμοῦ, οὐδὲ ὁ ἡσύχιος βίος τοῦ μὴ ἡσυχίου σωφρονέστερος ἂν εἴη, ἐπειδὴ ἐν τῷ λόγῳ τῶν καλῶν τι ἡμῖν ἡ σωφροσύνη ὑπετέθη, καλὰ δὲ οὐχ ἧττον τὰ ταχέα τῶν ἡσυχίων πέφανται. ὀρθῶς μοι δοκεῖς, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, εἰρηκέναι. πάλιν τοίνυν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ὦ Χαρμίδη, μᾶλλον προσέχων τὸν νοῦν καὶ εἰς σεαυτὸν ἐμβλέψας, ἐννοήσας ὁποῖόν τινά σε ποιεῖ ἡ σωφροσύνη παροῦσα καὶ ποία τις οὖσα τοιοῦτον ἀπεργάζοιτο ἄν, πάντα ταῦτα συλλογισάμενος εἰπὲ εὖ καὶ ἀνδρείως τί σοι φαίνεται εἶναι; καὶ ὃς ἐπισχὼν καὶ πάνυ ἀνδρικῶς πρὸς ἑαυτὸν διασκεψάμενος, δοκεῖ τοίνυν μοι, ἔφη, αἰσχύνεσθαι ποιεῖν ἡ σωφροσύνη καὶ αἰσχυντηλὸν τὸν ἄνθρωπον, καὶ εἶναι ὅπερ αἰδὼς ἡ σωφροσύνη.
But if, my friend, quiet actions happen to be not at all less beautiful than vigorous and quick ones, even so, temperance would not be doing things quietly any more than doing them vigorously and quickly, neither in walking nor in speaking nor anywhere else, nor would the quiet life be more temperate than the non-quiet one, since in our argument temperance was assumed to be one of the beautiful things, and quick things have been shown to be no less beautiful than quiet ones." "You seem to me, Socrates," he said, "to speak correctly." "Again then, Charmides," I said, "paying more attention and looking into yourself, reflecting on what kind of person temperance makes you when it is present, and what kind of thing it must be to produce such an effect, gather all this together and tell me well and courageously: what does it appear to you to be?" And after pausing and examining himself very courageously, he said, "It seems to me, then, that temperance makes a person feel shame and be shamefaced, and that temperance is simply modesty." "Well then," I said, "did you not just agree that temperance is beautiful?" "Certainly," he said.
εἶεν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, οὐ καλὸν ἄρτι ὡμολόγεις τὴν σωφροσύνην εἶναι; πάνυ γʼ, ἔφη. οὐκοῦν καὶ ἀγαθοὶ ἄνδρες οἱ σώφρονες; ναί. ἆρʼ οὖν ἂν εἴη ἀγαθὸν ὃ μὴ ἀγαθοὺς ἀπεργάζεται; οὐ δῆτα. οὐ μόνον οὖν ἄρα καλόν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἀγαθόν ἐστιν. §161ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ. τί οὖν; ἦν δʼ ἐγώ·
"Are not temperate men also good?" "Yes." "Would that which does not make men good be good?" "By no means." "Therefore, it is not only beautiful, but also good." "So it seems to me." "What then?" I said.
Ὁμήρῳ οὐ πιστεύεις καλῶς λέγειν, λέγοντι ὅτι
"
αἰδὼς δʼ οὐκ ἀγαθὴ κεχρημένῳ ἀνδρὶ παρεῖναι;
"Do you not believe that Homer speaks well when he says: 'Modesty is not good to be present with a needy man'?
"
ἔγωγʼ, ἔφη.
""I do," he said.
ἔστιν ἄρα, ὡς ἔοικεν, αἰδὼς οὐκ ἀγαθὸν καὶ ἀγαθόν. φαίνεται. σωφροσύνη δέ γε ἀγαθόν, εἴπερ ἀγαθοὺς ποιεῖ οἷς ἂν παρῇ, κακοὺς δὲ μή. ἀλλὰ μὴν οὕτω γε δοκεῖ μοι ἔχειν, ὡς σὺ λέγεις. οὐκ ἄρα σωφροσύνη ἂν εἴη αἰδώς, εἴπερ τὸ μὲν ἀγαθὸν τυγχάνει ὄν, αἰδὼς δὲ οὐδὲν μᾶλλον ἀγαθὸν ἢ καὶ κακόν. ἀλλʼ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, τοῦτο μὲν ὀρθῶς λέγεσθαι·
"Modesty, then, it seems, is both not good and good." "So it appears." "But temperance is indeed good, if indeed it makes those in whom it is present good, and not bad." "But indeed, it seems to me to be just as you say." "Therefore, temperance would not be modesty, if the one happens to be good, while modesty is no more good than bad." "But to me, Socrates," he said, "this indeed seems to be correctly said.
τόδε δὲ σκέψαι τί σοι δοκεῖ εἶναι περὶ σωφροσύνης. ἄρτι γὰρ ἀνεμνήσθην—ὃ ἤδη του ἤκουσα λέγοντος— ὅτι σωφροσύνη ἂν εἴη τὸ τὰ ἑαυτοῦ πράττειν. σκόπει οὖν τοῦτο εἰ ὀρθῶς σοι δοκεῖ λέγειν ὁ λέγων.
But consider this other thing: what do you think about temperance?
καὶ ἐγώ, ὦ μιαρέ, ἔφην, Κριτίου τοῦδε ἀκήκοας αὐτὸ ἢ ἄλλου του τῶν σοφῶν. ἔοικεν, ἔφη ὁ Κριτίας, ἄλλου· οὐ γὰρ δὴ ἐμοῦ γε. ἀλλὰ τί διαφέρει, ἦ δʼ ὅς, ὁ Χαρμίδης, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὅτου ἤκουσα; οὐδέν, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ· πάντως γὰρ οὐ τοῦτο σκεπτέον, ὅστις αὐτὸ εἶπεν, ἀλλὰ πότερον ἀληθὲς λέγεται ἢ οὔ. νῦν ὀρθῶς λέγεις, ἦ δʼ ὅς. νὴ Δία, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ.
For I have just remembered—what I once heard someone saying—that temperance would be 'doing one's own business.' Consider, then, this, whether the one who says so seems to you to speak correctly." "And I said, 'You rascal, did you hear this from Critias here, or from some other of the wise?' 'It seems,' said Critias, 'from someone else; for surely not from me at least.'" "'But what does it matter, Socrates,' said Charmides, 'from whom I heard it?' 'Nothing,' I said; 'for in any case we must consider not who said it, but whether what is said is true.' 'Now you speak correctly,' he said." "'By Zeus,' I said.
ἀλλʼ εἰ καὶ εὑρήσομεν αὐτὸ ὅπῃ γε ἔχει, θαυμάζοιμʼ ἄν· αἰνίγματι γάρ τινι ἔοικεν. ὅτι δὴ τί γε; ἔφη.
'But if we shall even find out how it is, I would wonder; for it seems like a certain riddle.' 'In what way?' he said.
ὅτι οὐ δήπου, ἦν δʼ ἐγώ, ᾗ τὰ ῥήματα ἐφθέγξατο ταύτῃ καὶ ἐνόει, λέγων σωφροσύνην εἶναι τὸ τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττειν. ἢ σὺ οὐδὲν ἡγῇ πράττειν τὸν γραμματιστὴν ὅταν γράφῃ ἢ ἀναγιγνώσκῃ; ἔγωγε, ἡγοῦμαι μὲν οὖν, ἔφη. δοκεῖ οὖν σοι τὸ αὑτοῦ ὄνομα μόνον γράφειν ὁ γραμματιστὴς καὶ ἀναγιγνώσκειν ἢ ὑμᾶς τοὺς παῖδας διδάσκειν, ἢ οὐδὲν ἧττον τὰ τῶν ἐχθρῶν ἐγράφετε ἢ τὰ ὑμέτερα καὶ τὰ τῶν φίλων ὀνόματα; οὐδὲν ἧττον. ἦ οὖν ἐπολυπραγμονεῖτε καὶ οὐκ ἐσωφρονεῖτε τοῦτο δρῶντες; οὐδαμῶς. καὶ μὴν οὐ τὰ ὑμέτερά γε αὐτῶν ἐπράττετε, εἴπερ τὸ γράφειν πράττειν τί ἐστιν καὶ τὸ ἀναγιγνώσκειν. ἀλλὰ μὴν ἔστιν. καὶ γὰρ τὸ ἰᾶσθαι, ὦ ἑταῖρε, καὶ τὸ οἰκοδομεῖν καὶ τὸ ὑφαίνειν καὶ τὸ ᾑτινιοῦν τέχνῃ ὁτιοῦν τῶν τέχνης ἔργων ἀπεργάζεσθαι πράττειν δήπου τί ἐστιν. πάνυ γε.
'Because,' I said, 'he surely did not mean it in the way he spoke the words, when he said that temperance is "doing one's own business." Or do you think that the writing-master does nothing when he writes or reads?' 'Indeed, I think he does,' he said." "'Does it then seem to you that the writing-master writes and reads only his own name, or when he teaches you boys, did you write the names of your enemies no less than your own and those of your friends?' 'No less.' 'Were you then meddlesome and not temperate in doing this?' 'By no means.' 'And yet, you were not doing your own business, if writing and reading is indeed "doing" something.' 'Indeed it is.' 'For indeed healing, my friend, and building and weaving and producing any of the works of art by any art whatsoever is surely "doing" something.' 'Certainly.'"