Alcibiades. I do.

Socrates. Therefore, in regard to helping friends in war, insofar as it is beautiful—in respect to the good action of courage—you called it beautiful?

Alcibiades. I appear to have done so.

Socrates. But in respect to the bad action of death, you called it bad?

Alcibiades. Yes.

Socrates. Thus it is right to address each of the actions in this way: if insofar as it works evil you call it bad, then insofar as it works good it must be called good.

Alcibiades. It seems so to me.

Socrates. And insofar as it is good, it is beautiful, and insofar as it is bad, it is base?

Alcibiades. Yes.

Socrates. By saying that aid to friends in war is beautiful but bad, you are saying nothing different than if you addressed it as good but bad.

Alcibiades. You seem to me to speak the truth, Socrates.

Socrates. Therefore nothing beautiful, insofar as it is beautiful, is bad, nor is anything base, insofar as it is base, good.

Alcibiades. It appears not.

Socrates. Consider this further in this way: whoever acts beautifully, does he not also act well?

Alcibiades. Yes.

Socrates. And are not those who act well happy?

Alcibiades. How could they not be?

Socrates. Are they not happy through the possession of good things?

Alcibiades. Most certainly.

Socrates. And they possess these things by acting well and beautifully?

Alcibiades. Yes.

Socrates. Therefore acting well is good?

Alcibiades. How could it not be?

Socrates. Is not good action beautiful?

Alcibiades. Yes.

Socrates. Then the beautiful and the good have once again appeared to us to be the same.

Alcibiades. It appears so.

Socrates. Whatever we find to be beautiful, therefore, we shall also find to be good by this argument at least.

Alcibiades. Necessarily.

Socrates. What then? Are good things advantageous or not?

Alcibiades. Advantageous.

Socrates. Do you remember how we agreed about just things?

Alcibiades. I think we agreed that those who do just things necessarily do beautiful things.

Socrates. And that those who do beautiful things do good things?

Alcibiades. Yes.

Socrates. And that good things are advantageous?

Alcibiades. Yes.

Socrates. Therefore just things, Alcibiades, are advantageous.

Alcibiades. It seems so.

Socrates. What then? Are you not the one saying these things, and I the one asking?

Alcibiades. I appear to be, as it seems.

Socrates. If then someone stands up to advise either the Athenians or the Peparethians, thinking he knows what is just and unjust, and says that just things are sometimes bad, would you not do anything else but laugh at him, since you yourself happen to be saying that just and advantageous things are the same?

Alcibiades. But by the gods, Socrates, I do not even know what I am saying, but I seem to be in a wholly strange condition; for sometimes things seem one way to me when you question me, and sometimes another way.

Socrates. And then do you not know what this condition is, my friend?

Alcibiades. Very much so.

Socrates. Do you suppose that if someone were to ask you whether you have two eyes or three, and two hands or four, or anything else of the sort, you would sometimes answer one thing and sometimes another, or always the same?