We now finish Aristotle’s account of friendship, in Books VIII and IX of the Nicomachean Ethics. Of the latter book, chapters x–xii are below. I wonder whether the last one or six chapters of the book are meant as a culmination or a dénouement. Are we to see a panorama, having reached the high point of our deliberations, or are we just tying up some loose ends?

Etymologically speaking, a dénouement is an untying; however, the literary sense or senses of the word have not been thought important enough to merit their own Wikipedia article. A search on the word directs the reader to a “List of story structures,” and some of these structures include a dénouement. It is said in particular of Aristotle,

He split the play into two acts: δέσις (desis) and λύσις (lysis) which roughly translates to binding and unbinding, though contemporary translation is “complication” and “dénouement”.

References are to the LSJ and to Poetics XVIII, which begins as follows (1155^b24–9), accompanied with translation and note by W. H. Fyfe:

ἔστι δὲ πάσης τραγῳδίας
τὸ μὲν δέσις τὸ δὲ λύσις,
τὰ μὲν ἔξωθεν
καὶ ἔνια τῶν ἔσωθεν
πολλάκις ἡ δέσις,
τὸ δὲ λοιπὸν ἡ λύσις·
λέγω δὲ
δέσιν μὲν εἶναι
τὴν ἀπ᾽ ἀρχῆς
μέχρι τούτου τοῦ μέρους
ὃ ἔσχατόν ἐστιν
ἐξ οὗ μεταβαίνει
εἰς εὐτυχίαν
ἢ εἰς ἀτυχίαν,
λύσιν δὲ
τὴν ἀπὸ τῆς ἀρχῆς τῆς μεταβάσεως
μέχρι τέλους·

In every tragedy there is
a complication and a denouement.*
The incidents outside the plot
and some of those in it
usually form the complication,
the rest is the denouement.
I mean this,
that the complication is
the part from the beginning
up to the point
which immediately precedes
the occurrence of a change
from bad to good fortune
or from good fortune to bad;
the denouement is
from the beginning of the change
down to the end.

* The Greek says simply “tying” and “loosing.” Complication and denouement seem clumsy equivalents, yet they are the words we use in dramatic criticism.

Butcher’s translation begins,

Every tragedy falls into two parts, – Complication and Unravelling or Dénouement.

In the sequel, Butcher uses Unravelling, rather than Dénouement.

Untying, loosing, and unravelling are metaphors for the release of tension after a climax. The climax of Emma comes in the eleventh of the nineteen chapters of the last of the three volumes, in the paragraph whose first half I give below. The quotation avoids specific spoilers, though the revelation that the title character has a revelation might itself be considered a spoiler:

Emma’s eyes were instantly withdrawn; and she sat silently meditating, in a fixed attitude, for a few minutes. A few minutes were sufficient for making her acquainted with her own heart. A mind like hers, once opening to suspicion, made rapid progress. She touched – she admitted – she acknowledged the whole truth.

In principle, the novel could end there. If Jane Austen has done her job, then Emma has only one truth to acknowledge, and the reader can figure out what it is. I cannot say I did this, when I first read the novel; I probably hurried on to see the author’s account of the truth.

It so happens that I have been thinking about Emma, because (as Collingwood points out in a lecture) one may not like Emma, but this would be a poor reason for disliking the novel. Noneless, one of my correspondents recently criticized Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance on similar grounds.

The paragraph of Emma after the one just quoted from reads in part as follows, and we might analyze it as Aristotle analyzes friendship and the decent man:

How inconsiderate, how indelicate, how irrational, how unfeeling had been her conduct! What blindness, what madness, had led her on! It struck her with dreadful force, and she was ready to give it every bad name in the world. Some portion of respect for herself, however, in spite of all these demerits – some concern for her own appearance, and a strong sense of justice by Harriet … (… justice required that she should not be made unhappy by any coldness now,) gave Emma the resolution to sit and endure farther with calmness, with even apparent kindness. – For her own advantage indeed, it was fit that the utmost extent of Harriet’s hopes should be enquired into …

It would be unjust to others to collapse in self-pity.

I said we could in principle have been left to think this through for ourselves. Was there a point when Aristotle could have stopped, in his account of friendship, trusting his readers to figure out the rest?

Here again arises the difficulty that we do not know whether Aristotle intended his work for us in the first place. The original manuscript of the Ethics could be like my own lecture notes, for my use only. I may deviate from them when I actually face my audience; I may end up rearranging the points and elaborating on some, while leaving the details of others as exercises.

In the Ethics, to my mind, the most significant moment in the account of friendship has been the observation in Book IX, §ix.5, that happiness is an activity (ἐνέργεια), not a possession. Virtue and friendliness may due to activity or merely disposition (ἕξις), as described respectively in Book VIII, § v.1 (with the translation of Bartlett and Collins):

οἱ μὲν γὰρ συζῶντες
χαίρουσιν
ἀλλήλοις καὶ πορίζουσι τἀγαθά,
οἱ δὲ καθεύδοντες
ἢ κεχωρισμένοι τοῖς τόποις
οὐκ ἐνεργοῦσι μέν,
οὕτω δ᾽ ἔχουσιν
ὥστ᾽ ἐνεργεῖν φιλικῶς·

For those who live together
delight in
and provide good things to one another,
whereas those who are asleep
or separated by location
are not active,
though they are so disposed
as to be active as a friend.

The idea of living together will return. Meanwhile (Book VIII, § xi.6), it is suggested that being active with somebody or something is not the same as merely using him, her, or it; for, the latter is not enough for a friendship.

The last six chapters of Book IX take up six questions respectively (again, the translations are by Bartlett and Collins):

1. Why is it the benefactor who loves the beneficiary more, and not the other way around (§ vii.1)?

   οἱ δ᾽ εὐεργέται τοὺς εὐεργετηθέντας δοκοῦσι μᾶλλον φιλεῖν
   ἢ οἱ εὖ παθόντες τοὺς δράσαντας,
   καὶ ὡς παρὰ λόγον γινόμενον ἐπιζητεῖται.

   Those who perform a benefit seem to love those who receive this benefit more
   than those who are the recipients of the benefit love those who perform it,
   and this is investigated on the supposition that it occurs contrary to reason.

2. Should it be oneself whom one loves most (§ viii.1)?

   ἀπορεῖται δὲ καὶ
   πότερον δεῖ φιλεῖν ἑαυτὸν μάλιστα
   ἢ ἄλλον τινά.

   But there is perplexity too
   as to whether one ought to love oneself most
   or someone else.

3. Does the happy man need friends (§ ix.1)?

   ἀμφισβητεῖται δὲ καὶ περὶ τὸν εὐδαίμονα,
   εἰ δεήσεται φίλων ἢ μή.

   There is a dispute too regarding the happy person, namely,
   whether or not he will need friends.

4. Should one have as many friends as possible (§ x.1)?

   ἆρ᾽ οὖν ὡς πλείστους φίλους ποιητέον,
   ἢ καθάπερ ἐπὶ τῆς ξενίας ἐμμελῶς εἰρῆσθαι δοκεῖ

   μήτε πολύξεινος μήτ᾽ ἄξεινος,

   καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς φιλίας ἁρμόσει
   μήτ᾽ ἄφιλον εἶναι
   μήτ᾽ αὖ πολύφιλον καθ᾽ ὑπερβολήν;

   Must one, then, make as many friends as possible?
   Or – just as it seems to have been said appropriately concerning hospitality,
   “be a host neither to many guests nor to none” –
   will it be fitting in the case of friendship too,
   neither to be without a friend
   nor in turn to have excessively many friends?

5. Does one need friends more in good times or bad (§ xi.1)?

   πότερον δ᾽ ἐν εὐτυχίαις μᾶλλον φίλων δεῖ ἢ ἐν δυστυχίαις;
   ἐν ἀμφοῖν γὰρ ἐπιζητοῦνται …

   Does one need friends more in good fortune than in misfortune?
   For people seek them out in both cases …

6. Is what we want most from friends to live with them (§ xii.1)?

   ἆρ᾽ οὖν, ὥσπερ τοῖς ἐρῶσι τὸ ὁρᾶν ἀγαπητότατόν ἐστι
   καὶ μᾶλλον αἱροῦνται ταύτην τὴν αἴσθησιν ἢ τὰς λοιπὰς
   ὡς κατὰ ταύτην μάλιστα τοῦ ἔρωτος ὄντος καὶ γινομένου,
   οὕτω καὶ τοῖς φίλοις αἱρετώτατόν ἐστι τὸ συζῆν;

   Just as, then, lovers are fondest of seeing [the beloved]
   and choose this sense perception more than the rest
   on the grounds that love exists and arises especially in reference to sight,
   so is it similarly the case for friends that living together is most choiceworthy?

With his marginal notes in the Loeb edition, from the previous five questions, Rackham distinguishes the sixth as a conclusion to Books VIII and IX. Perhaps the distinction is reasonable, if the whole point of being friends is living together.

What does this mean? Section xii.1 continues as follows, now with Rackham’s free translation:

κοινωνία γὰρ ἡ φιλία,
καὶ ὡς πρὸς ἑαυτὸν
ἔχει,
οὕτω καὶ πρὸς τὸν φίλον·
περὶ αὑτὸν δ᾽ ἡ αἴσθησις ὅτι ἔστιν αἱρετή,
καὶ περὶ τὸν φίλον δή·
ἡ δ᾽ ἐνέργεια γίνεται αὐτῆς ἐν τῷ συζῆν,
ὥστ᾽ εἰκότως τούτου ἐφίενται.

For (i) friendship is essentially a partnership.
And (ii) a man stands
in the same relation to a friend
as to himself;
but the consciousness of his own existence is a good;
so also therefore is the consciousness of his friend’s existence;
but this consciousness is actualized in intercourse;
hence friends naturally desire each other’s society.

Here is Sach’s version:

For friendship is a sharing in common,
and one has the same relation to a friend
as to oneself,
while in relation to oneself, the awareness that one is is something choiceworthy,
and thus it is so in relation to the friend as well;
but the being-at-work of this awareness comes about in living together,
and so, naturally, friends aim at this.

Perhaps living together, συζῆν, is not strictly cohabitation in the sense of sleeping under a common roof. People can be friends while asleep, but only because they can then wake up, go out, and do things together. In the next section, the Philosopher gives examples of the kinds of things friends can do together:

• co-imbibe (συμπίνουσιν),
• co-gamble (συγκυβεύουσιν),
• co-exercise (συγγυμνάζονται),
• co-hunt (συγκυνηγοῦσιν), and
• co-philosophize (συμφιλοσοφοῦσιν).

Aristotle does not acknowledge the slaves and the women whose work makes it possible for the men to do these fun things together. At least one of my fellow readers was concerned about this, and she has a point. Perhaps hunting puts food on the table, but I don’t suppose Aristotle has this utilitarian purpose in mind. I’ll just refer to my post “Community,” which concerns a more thorough-going sharing of life.

Contents and Summary

• Chapter X. Of friends, should one have
  • as many as possible,
  • or neither
    • too many nor
    • none,

    as e.g. Hesiod says of guests? (§ x.1)

  The latter, whether with

  • useful friends
    (you need time to return their services), or
  • pleasant friends
    (as e.g. with seasoning in food, § x.2), or
  • friends of the good (σπουδαῖος):
    • for a city e.g.
      • ten are too few,
      • ten myriad, too many;

      for a unity, a multitude must be limited;

    • one can live with only so many (§ x.3:
      • one cannot take care of too many;
      • they must be friends with one another (§ x.4);
      • they would have joys and sorrows at the same time;
      • erotic love is
        • hyperbolic friendship,
        • for only one person (§ x.5).

  That’s the way it is:

  • People do not have many comrades – in song, two.
  • People who are everybody’s friend
    • are nobody’s,
    • are called obsequious (ἄρεσκος),

    unless the friendships are political:
    then the people are decent (§ x.6).

• Chapter XI. Is it
  • in good times (ἐν εὐτυχίαις) or
  • in bad times (ἐν δυστυχίαις)

  that one need friends more?

  • Having,
    • in good times, decent friends is nobler;
    • in bad times, useful friends is more necessary (§ xi.1),
      whether because
      • they lighten the load, or
      • we think that they do (§ xi.2).

      Their presence then is mixed: seeing

      • them is
        • pleasant and
        • helpful,

        since they know us (§ xi.3);

      • their pain at our misfortune
        is itself painful.

      Thus

      • the naturally manly man
        • is chary of sharing pain with friends,
        • does not want to be a pain to them,
        • does not allow their mourning with him
          (since he himself is not mournful);
      • women and such men
        • delight in lamenting,
        • love their friends as
          • friends and
          • fellow suffers.

      One must imitate the better in all (§ xi.4).

  • In good times, friends provide pleasure
    • directly and
    • through the thought that they are pleased.
  • Thus it seems one must
    • call on friends
      • in good times, eagerly,
      • in bad times, reluctantly,
        if they won’t be too put out (§ xi.5);
    • go to friends
      • in bad times
        • uncalled,
        • eagerly;
      • in bad times,
        • to share the work, eagerly;
        • to enjoy oneself, slowly,
          since keenness for benefit is ignoble,
          although the opposite can mean a bad rep.
  • The presence of friends is evidently always desirable (§ xi.6).
• Chapter XII. Is it living together (τὸ συζῆν)
  that is most desirable for friends,
  as the sense of sight is for lovers?
  • It is desirable to perceive the existence of
    • oneself and
    • one’s friend,

    and the energeia of this
    comes about through living together (§ xii.1).

  • Whatever,
    • for somebody, existence is, and
    • they choose to live for the sake of,

    with friends they want to do it, be it e.g.

    • co-drinking,
    • co-gambling,
    • co-exercising,
    • co-hunting,
    • co-philosophizing (§ xii.2).
  • The friendship of
    • the base is corrupting,
    • the decent is improving: “ἐσθλῶν μὲν γὰρ ἄπ᾽ ἐσθλά” (§ xii.3).
  • That’s it for friendship.
    Next up, pleasure (§ xii.4).

Text

[1170^b]

Chapter X

§ x.1

ἆρ᾽ οὖν

• ὡς πλείστους φίλους ποιητέον,

• ἢ

  • καθάπερ ἐπὶ τῆς ξενίας ἐμμελῶς εἰρῆσθαι δοκεῖ

  μήτε πολύξεινος μήτ᾽ ἄξεινος, [Hes. WD 715]

  • καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς φιλίας ἁρμόσει
    • μήτ᾽ ἄφιλον εἶναι
    • μήτ᾽ αὖ πολύφιλον καθ᾽ ὑπερβολήν;

§ x.2

• τοῖς μὲν δὴ πρὸς χρῆσιν κἂν πάνυ δόξειεν ἁρμόζειν τὸ λεχθέν·

  πολλοῖς γὰρ ἀνθυπηρετεῖν ἐπίπονον,
  καὶ οὐχ ἱκανὸς ὁ βίος αὐτὸ τοῦτο πράττειν.

  οἱ πλείους δὴ
  τῶν πρὸς τὸν οἰκεῖον βίον ἱκανῶν

  • περίεργοι καὶ
  • ἐμπόδιοι πρὸς τὸ καλῶς ζῆν·

  οὐθὲν οὖν δεῖ αὐτῶν. καὶ

• οἱ πρὸς ἡδονὴν δὲ ἀρκοῦσιν ὀλίγοι,
  καθάπερ ἐν τῇ τροφῇ τὸ ἥδυσμα.

§ x.3

τοὺς δὲ σπουδαίους

• πότερον πλείστους κατ᾽ ἀριθμόν,
• ἢ ἔστι τι μέτρον
  • καὶ φιλικοῦ πλήθους,
  • ὥσπερ πόλεως;

τὸ δὲ ποσὸν οὐκ ἔστιν ἴσως ἕν τι,
ἀλλὰ πᾶν τὸ μεταξὺ τινῶν ὡρισμένων. [1171^a]

καὶ φίλων δή ἐστι πλῆθος ὡρισμένον,
καὶ ἴσως οἱ πλεῖστοι μεθ᾽ ὧν ἂν δύναιτό τις συζῆν
(τοῦτο γὰρ ἐδόκει φιλικώτατον εἶναι)·

§ x.4

ὅτι δ᾽ οὐχ οἷόν τε πολλοῖς

• συζῆν καὶ
• διανέμειν

ἑαυτόν,
οὐκ ἄδηλον.

ἔτι δὲ κἀκείνους δεῖ ἀλλήλοις φίλους εἶναι,
εἰ μέλλουσι πάντες μετ᾽ ἀλλήλων συνημερεύειν·

τοῦτο δ᾽ ἐργῶδες ἐν πολλοῖς ὑπάρχειν.

§ x.5

χαλεπὸν δὲ γίνεται

• καὶ τὸ συγχαίρειν
• καὶ τὸ συναλγεῖν

οἰκείως πολλοῖς·

εἰκὸς γὰρ συμπίπτειν ἅμα

• τῷ μὲν συνήδεσθαι
• τῷ δὲ συνάχθεσθαι.

ἴσως οὖν εὖ ἔχει

• μὴ ζητεῖν ὡς πολυφιλώτατον εἶναι,
• ἀλλὰ τοσούτους ὅσοι εἰς τὸ συζῆν ἱκανοί·

οὐδὲ γὰρ ἐνδέχεσθαι δόξειεν ἂν πολλοῖς εἶναι φίλον σφόδρα.

καὶ τὸ σφόδρα δὴ πρὸς ὀλίγους.

§ x.6

οὕτω δ᾽ ἔχειν ἔοικε καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν πραγμάτων·

• οὐ γίνονται γὰρ φίλοι πολλοὶ κατὰ τὴν ἑταιρικὴν φιλίαν,
• αἱ δ᾽ ὑμνούμεναι ἐν δυσὶ λέγονται.

οἱ δὲ

• πολύφιλοι καὶ
• πᾶσιν οἰκείως ἐντυγχάνοντες

οὐδενὶ δοκοῦσιν εἶναι φίλοι,
πλὴν πολιτικῶς,
οὓς καὶ καλοῦσιν ἀρέσκους.

• πολιτικῶς μὲν οὖν ἔστι
  πολλοῖς εἶναι φίλον καὶ
  • μὴ ἄρεσκον ὄντα,
  • ἀλλ᾽ ὡς ἀληθῶς ἐπιεικῆ·
• δι᾽ ἀρετὴν δὲ καὶ δι᾽ αὐτοὺς οὐκ ἔστι πρὸς πολλούς,
  ἀγαπητὸν δὲ καὶ ὀλίγους εὑρεῖν τοιούτους.

Chapter XI

§ xi.1

• πότερον δ᾽ ἐν εὐτυχίαις μᾶλλον φίλων δεῖ
• ἢ ἐν δυστυχίαις;

ἐν ἀμφοῖν γὰρ ἐπιζητοῦνται·

• οἵ τε γὰρ ἀτυχοῦντες δέονται ἐπικουρίας,
• οἵ τ᾽ εὐτυχοῦντες
  • συμβίων καὶ
  • οὓς εὖ ποιήσουσιν·

  βούλονται γὰρ εὖ δρᾶν.

• ἀναγκαιότερον μὲν δὴ ἐν ταῖς ἀτυχίαις,
  διὸ τῶν χρησίμων ἐνταῦθα δεῖ,
• κάλλιον δ᾽ ἐν ταῖς εὐτυχίαις,
  διὸ καὶ τοὺς ἐπιεικεῖς ζητοῦσιν·
  τούτους γὰρ αἱρετώτερον
  • εὐεργετεῖν καὶ
  • μετὰ τούτων διάγειν.

§ xi.2

ἔστι γὰρ καὶ ἡ παρουσία αὐτὴ τῶν φίλων ἡδεῖα

• καὶ ἐν ταῖς εὐτυχίαις
• καὶ ἐν ταῖς δυστυχίαις.
  κουφίζονται γὰρ οἱ λυπούμενοι
  συναλγούντων τῶν φίλων.

διὸ κἂν ἀπορήσειέν τις

• πότερον ὥσπερ βάρους μεταλαμβάνουσιν,
• ἢ

  • τοῦτο μὲν οὔ,

  • • ἡ παρουσία δ᾽ αὐτῶν ἡδεῖα οὖσα καὶ
    • ἡ ἔννοια τοῦ συναλγεῖν

    ἐλάττω τὴν λύπην ποιεῖ.

• εἰ μὲν οὖν
  • διὰ ταῦτα ἢ
  • δι᾽ ἄλλο τι

  κουφίζονται,
  ἀφείσθω·

• συμβαίνειν δ᾽ οὖν φαίνεται τὸ λεχθέν.

§ xi.3

ἔοικε δ᾽ ἡ παρουσία μικτή τις αὐτῶν εἶναι.

• αὐτὸ μὲν γὰρ τὸ ὁρᾶν τοὺς φίλους
  • ἡδύ, [1171^b]
    • ἄλλως τε καὶ
    • ἀτυχοῦντι, καὶ
  • γίνεταί τις ἐπικουρία πρὸς τὸ μὴ λυπεῖσθαι
    (παραμυθητικὸν γὰρ ὁ φίλος
    • καὶ τῇ ὄψει
    • καὶ τῷ λόγῳ,

    ἐὰν ᾖ ἐπιδέξιος·
    οἶδε γὰρ

    • τὸ ἦθος καὶ
    • ἐφ᾽ οἷς
      • ἥδεται καὶ
      • λυπεῖται)·

§ xi.4

• τὸ δὲ λυπούμενον αἰσθάνεσθαι ἐπὶ ταῖς αὑτοῦ ἀτυχίαις λυπηρόν·
  πᾶς γὰρ φεύγει λύπης αἴτιος εἶναι τοῖς φίλοις.

διόπερ

• οἱ μὲν ἀνδρώδεις τὴν φύσιν
  • εὐλαβοῦνται συλλυπεῖν τοὺς φίλους αὑτοῖς,
  • κἂν μὴ ὑπερτείνῃ τῇ ἀλυπίᾳ,
    τὴν ἐκείνοις γινομένην λύπην οὐχ ὑπομένει,
  • ὅλως τε συνθρήνους οὐ προσίεται
    διὰ τὸ μηδ᾽ αὐτὸς εἶναι θρηνητικός·
• γύναια δὲ καὶ οἱ τοιοῦτοι ἄνδρες
  • τοῖς συστένουσι χαίρουσι, καὶ
  • φιλοῦσιν ὡς
    • φίλους καὶ
    • συναλγοῦντας.

μιμεῖσθαι δ᾽ ἐν ἅπασι δεῖ δῆλον ὅτι τὸν βελτίω.

§ xi.5

ἡ δ᾽ ἐν ταῖς εὐτυχίαις τῶν φίλων παρουσία

• τήν τε διαγωγὴν ἡδεῖαν ἔχει καὶ
• τὴν ἔννοιαν ὅτι ἥδονται ἐπὶ τοῖς αὑτοῦ ἀγαθοῖς.

διὸ δόξειεν ἂν δεῖν

• εἰς μὲν τὰς εὐτυχίας
  καλεῖν τοὺς φίλους προθύμως
  (εὐεργετικὸν γὰρ εἶναι καλόν),

• εἰς δὲ τὰς ἀτυχίας
  ὀκνοῦντα·
  μεταδιδόναι γὰρ ὡς ἥκιστα δεῖ τῶν κακῶν,
  ὅθεν τὸ

  ἅλις ἐγὼ δυστυχῶν.

μάλιστα δὲ παρακλητέον
ὅταν μέλλωσιν

• ὀλίγα ὀχληθέντες
• μεγάλ᾽ αὐτὸν ὠφελήσειν.

§ xi.6

ἰέναι δ᾽ ἀνάπαλιν ἴσως ἁρμόζει

• πρὸς μὲν τοὺς ἀτυχοῦντας
  • ἄκλητον καὶ
  • προθύμως

  (φίλου γὰρ εὖ ποιεῖν,
  καὶ μάλιστα

  • τοὺς ἐν χρείᾳ καὶ
  • τὸ μὴ ἀξιώσαντας·

  ἀμφοῖν γὰρ

  • κάλλιον καὶ
  • ἥδιον),
• εἰς δὲ τὰς εὐτυχίας
  • συνεργοῦντα μὲν προθύμως
    (καὶ γὰρ εἰς ταῦτα χρεία φίλων),
  • πρὸς εὐπάθειαν δὲ σχολαίως·
    οὐ γὰρ καλὸν τὸ προθυμεῖσθαι ὠφελεῖσθαι.

δόξαν δ᾽ ἀηδίας ἐν τῷ διωθεῖσθαι ἴσως εὐλαβητέον·
ἐνίοτε γὰρ συμβαίνει.

ἡ παρουσία δὴ τῶν φίλων ἐν ἅπασιν αἱρετὴ φαίνεται.

Chapter XII

§ xii.1

ἆρ᾽ οὖν,

• ὥσπερ τοῖς ἐρῶσι
  • τὸ ὁρᾶν ἀγαπητότατόν ἐστι καὶ
  • μᾶλλον αἱροῦνται ταύτην τὴν αἴσθησιν
    ἢ τὰς λοιπὰς

  ὡς κατὰ ταύτην μάλιστα τοῦ ἔρωτος

  • ὄντος καὶ
  • γινομένου,
• οὕτω καὶ τοῖς φίλοις αἱρετώτατόν ἐστι τὸ συζῆν;

κοινωνία γὰρ ἡ φιλία, καὶ

• ὡς πρὸς ἑαυτὸν ἔχει,
• οὕτω καὶ πρὸς τὸν φίλον·

• περὶ αὑτὸν δ᾽ ἡ αἴσθησις ὅτι ἔστιν αἱρετή, καὶ
• περὶ τὸν φίλον δή·

ἡ δ᾽ ἐνέργεια γίνεται αὐτῆς ἐν τῷ συζῆν, [1172^a]
ὥστ᾽ εἰκότως τούτου ἐφίενται.

§ xii.2

καὶ

• ὅ ποτ᾽ ἐστὶν ἑκάστοις τὸ εἶναι ἢ
• οὗ χάριν αἱροῦνται τὸ ζῆν,

ἐν τούτῳ μετὰ τῶν φίλων βούλονται διάγειν·

διόπερ

• οἳ μὲν συμπίνουσιν,
• οἳ δὲ συγκυβεύουσιν,
• ἄλλοι δὲ
  • συγγυμνάζονται καὶ
  • συγκυνηγοῦσιν ἢ
  • συμφιλοσοφοῦσιν,

ἕκαστοι ἐν τούτῳ συνημερεύοντες
ὅ τι περ μάλιστ᾽ ἀγαπῶσι τῶν ἐν τῷ βίῳ·

συζῆν γὰρ βουλόμενοι μετὰ τῶν φίλων,

• ταῦτα ποιοῦσι καὶ
• τούτων κοινωνοῦσιν

οἷς οἴονται συζῆν.

§ xii.3

γίνεται οὖν

• ἡ μὲν τῶν φαύλων φιλία μοχθηρά

  • (κοινωνοῦσι γὰρ φαύλων ἀβέβαιοι ὄντες, καὶ
  • μοχθηροὶ δὲ γίνονται ὁμοιούμενοι ἀλλήλοις),

• ἡ δὲ τῶν ἐπιεικῶν

  • ἐπιεικής,
  • συναυξανομένη ταῖς ὁμιλίαις·

  δοκοῦσι δὲ καὶ βελτίους γίνεσθαι

  • ἐνεργοῦντες καὶ
  • διορθοῦντες ἀλλήλους·

  ἀπομάττονται γὰρ παρ᾽ ἀλλήλων οἷς ἀρέσκονται,
  ὅθεν

  ἐσθλῶν μὲν γὰρ ἄπ᾽ ἐσθλά.

§ xii.4

περὶ μὲν οὖν φιλίας ἐπὶ τοσοῦτον εἰρήσθω·

ἑπόμενον δ᾽ ἂν εἴη διελθεῖν περὶ ἡδονῆς.