VI

He continued: I desire to make known to you, Simonides, ¹⁰⁹ those divers pleasures which were mine whilst I was still a private citizen, but of which today, nay, from the moment I became a tyrant, I find myself deprived. In those days I consorted with my friends and fellows, to our mutual delectation; ¹¹⁰ or, if I craved for quietude, ¹¹¹ I chose myself for my companion. Gaily the hours flitted at our drinking-parties, ofttimes till we had drowned such cares and troubles as are common to the life of man in Lethe's bowl; ¹¹² or ofttimes till we had steeped our souls in song and dance ¹¹³ and revelry; ofttimes till the flame of passion kindled in the breasts of my companions and my own. ¹¹⁴ But now, welladay, I am deprived of those who took delight in me, because I have slaves instead of friends as my companions; I am robbed of my once delightful intercourse with them, because I discern no vestige of goodwill towards me in their looks. And as to the wine-cup and slumber - these I guard against, even as a man might guard against an ambuscade. Think only! to dread a crowd, to dread solitude, to dread the absence of a guard, to dread the very guards that guard, to shrink from having those about one's self unarmed, and yet to hate the sight of armed attendants. Can you conceive a more troublesome circumstance? ¹¹⁵ But that is not all. To place more confidence in foreigners than in your fellow-citizens, nay, in barbarians than in Hellenes, to be consumed with a desire to keep freemen slaves and yet to be driven, will he nill he, to make slaves free, are not all these the symptoms of a mind distracted and amazed with terror?

For terror, you know, not only is a source of pain indwelling in the breast itself, but, ever in close attendance, shadowing the path, ¹¹⁶ becomes the destroyer of all sweet joys.

And if you know anything of war, Simonides, and war's alarms; if it was your fortune ever to be posted close to the enemy's lines, ¹¹⁷ try to recall to mind what sort of meals you made at those times, with what sort of slumber you courted rest. Be assured, there are no pains you then experienced, no horrors to compare with those that crowd upon the despot, who sees or seems to see fierce eyes of enemies glare at him, not face to face alone, but from every side.

He had spoken so far, when Simonides took up the thread of the discourse, replying: Excellently put. A part I must admit, of what you say; since war is terrible. Yet, Hiero, you forget. When we, at any rate, are out campaigning, we have a custom; we place sentinels at the outposts, and when the watch is set, we take our suppers and turn in undauntedly.

And Hiero answered: Yes, I can well believe you, for the laws are the true outposts, ¹¹⁸ who guard the sentinels, keeping their fears alive both for themselves and in behalf of you. Whereas the tyrant hires his guards for pay like harvest labourers. ¹¹⁹ Now of all functions, all abilities, none, I presume, is more required of a guard than that of faithfulness; and yet one faithful man is a commodity more hard to find than scores of workmen for any sort of work you like to name; ¹²⁰ and the more so, when the guards in question are not forthcoming except for money's sake; ¹²¹ and when they have it in their power to get far more in far less time by murdering the despot than they can hope to earn by lengthened service in protecting him.

And as to that which roused your envy - our ability, as you call it, to benefit our friends most largely, and beyond all else, to triumph over our foes - here, again, matters are not as you suppose.

How, for instance, can you hope to benefit your friends, when you may rest assured the very friend whom you have made most your debtor will be the happiest to quit your sight as fast as may be? since nobody believes that anything a tyrant gives him is indeed his own, until he is well beyond the donor's jurisdiction.

So much for friends, and as to enemies conversely. How can you say "most power of triumphing over our enemies," when every tyrant knows full well they are all his enemies, every man of them, who are despotically ruled by him? And to put the whole of them to death or to imprison them is hardly possible; or who will be his subjects presently? Not so, but knowing they are his enemies, he must perform this dexterous feat: ¹²² he must keep them at arm's length, and yet be compelled to lean upon them.

But be assured, Simonides, that when a tyrant fears any of his citizens, he is in a strait; it is ill work to see them living and ill work to put them to the death. Just as might happen with a horse; a noble beast, but there is that in him makes one fear he will do some mischief presently past curing. ¹²³ His very virtue makes it hard to kill the creature, and yet to turn him to account alive is also hard; so careful must one be, he does not choose the thick of danger to work irreparable harm. And this, further, doubtless holds of all goods and chattels, which are at once a trouble and a benefit. If painful to their owners to possess, they are none the less a source of pain to part with.