a relation--

Yes, thirst is relative to drink.

And a certain kind of thirst is relative to a certain kind of drink; but
thirst taken alone is neither of much nor little, nor of good nor bad,
nor of any particular kind of drink, but of drink only?

Certainly.

Then the soul of the thirsty one, in so far as he is thirsty, desires
only drink; for this he yearns and tries to obtain it?

That is plain.

And if you suppose something which pulls a thirsty soul away from drink,
that must be different from the thirsty principle which draws him like
a beast to drink; for, as we were saying, the same thing cannot at the
same time with the same part of itself act in contrary ways about the
same.

Impossible.

No more than you can say that the hands of the archer push and pull the
bow at the same time, but what you say is that one hand pushes and the
other pulls.

Exactly so, he replied.

And might a man be thirsty, and yet unwilling to drink?

Yes, he said, it constantly happens.

And in such a case what is one to say? Would you not say that there
was something in the soul bidding a man to drink, and something else
forbidding him, which is other and stronger than the principle which
bids him?

I should say so.

And the forbidding principle is derived from reason, and that which bids
and attracts proceeds from passion and disease?

Clearly.

Then we may fairly assume that they are two, and that they differ from
one another; the one with which a man reasons, we may call the rational
principle of the soul, the other, with which he loves and hungers and
thirsts and feels the flutterings of any other desire, may be termed
the irrational or appetitive, the ally of sundry pleasures and
satisfactions?

Yes, he said, we may fairly assume them to be different.

Then let us finally determine that there are two principles existing in
the soul. And what of passion, or spirit? Is it a third, or akin to one
of the preceding?

I should be inclined to say--akin to desire.

Well, I said, there is a story which I remember to have heard, and in
which I put faith. The story is, that Leontius, the son of Aglaion,
coming up one day from the Piraeus, under the north wall on the outside,
observed some dead bodies lying on the ground at the place of execution.
He felt a desire to see them, and also a dread and abhorrence of them;
for a time he struggled and covered his eyes, but at length the desire
got the better of him; and