Complete Works of Xenophon (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics)

by Xenophon

  “For this reason of course,” said Hiero, “that they speculate on the subject without experience of both estates. But I will try to show you that I am speaking the truth, beginning with the sense of sight. That was your first point, if I am not mistaken. [11]

  “In the first place, then, taking the objects that we perceive by means of vision, I find by calculation that in regard to sight-seeing, despots are worse off. In every land there are things worth seeing: and in search of these private citizens visit any city they choose, and attend the national festivals, where all things reputed to be most worth seeing are assembled. [12] But despots are not at all concerned with missions to shows. For it is risky for them to go where they will be no stronger than the crowd, and their property at home is too insecure to be left in charge of others while they are abroad. For they fear to lose their throne, and at the same time to be unable to take vengeance on the authors of the wrong. Perhaps you may say: [13] `But, after all, such spectacles come to them even if they stay at home.’ No, no, Simonides, only one in a hundred such; and what there are of them are offered to despots at a price so exorbitant that showmen who exhibit some trifle expect to leave the court in an hour with far more money than they get from all the rest of the world in a lifetime.” [14]

  “Ah,” said Simonides, “but if you are worse off in the matter of sight-seeing, the sense of hearing, you know, gives you the advantage. Praise, the sweetest of all sounds, is never lacking, for all your courtiers praise everything you do and every word you utter. Abuse, on the contrary, that most offensive of sounds, is never in your ears, for no one likes to speak evil of a despot in his presence.” [15]

  “And what pleasure,” asked Hiero, “comes, do you suppose, of this shrinking from evil words, when one knows well that all harbour evil thoughts against the despot, in spite of their silence? Or what pleasure comes of this praise, do you think, when the praises sound suspiciously like flattery?” [16]

  “Well yes,” replied Simonides, “in this of course I agree with you entirely, Hiero, that praise from the freest is sweetest. But this, now, you will not persuade anyone to believe, that the things which support human life do not yield you a far greater number of pleasures.” [17]

  “Yes, Simonides, and I know that the reason why most men judge that we have more enjoyment in eating and drinking than private citizens is this; they think that they themselves would find the dinner served at our table better eating than what they get. Anything, in fact, that is better than what they are accustomed to gives them pleasure. [18] This is why all men look forward to the festivals, except the despots. For their table is always laden with plenty, and admits of no extras on feast days. Here then is one pleasure in respect of which they are worse off than the private citizen, the pleasure of anticipation. [19] But further, your own experience tells you, I am sure, that the greater the number of superfluous dishes set before a man, the sooner a feeling of repletion comes over him; and so, as regards the duration of his pleasure too, the man who has many courses put before him is worse off than the moderate liver.” [20]

  “But surely,” said Simonides, “so long as the appetite holds out, the man who dines at the costlier banquet has far more pleasure than he who is served with the cheaper meal.” [21]

  “Don’t you think, Simonides, that the greater a man’s pleasure in any occupation the stronger is his devotion to it?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Then do you notice that despots fall to their meal with any more zest than private persons to theirs?”

  “No, no, of course not; I should rather say with more disgust, according to the common opinion.” [22]

  “Well now,” said Hiero, “have you observed all those pickles and sauces that are put before despots — acid, bitter, astringent and so forth?”

  “Yes, certainly; and very unnatural cates I think them for human beings.” [23]

  “Don’t you look on these condiments, then, as mere fads of a jaded and pampered appetite? I know well enough, and I expect you know too, that hearty eaters have no need of these concoctions.” [24]

  “Well, I certainly think that those costly unguents with which you anoint your bodies afford more satisfaction to those who are near you than to yourselves, just as the man who has eaten rank food is less conscious of the disagreeable smell than those who come near him.” [25]

  “Quite so, and we may add that he who has all sorts of food at all times has no stomach for any sort. Offer a man a dish that he seldom tastes, and he eats a bellyful with gusto.” [26]

  “It seems,” remarked Simonides, “as if the satisfaction of the sexual appetites were the only motive that produces in you the craving for despotism. For in this matter you are free to enjoy the fairest that meets your eye.” [27]

  “I assure you that we are worse off than private citizens in the matter to which you now refer. First take marriage. It is commonly held that a marriage into a family of greater wealth and influence is most honourable, and is a source of pride and pleasure to the bridegroom. Next to that comes a marriage with equals. A marriage with inferiors is considered positively degrading and useless. [28] Now unless a despot marries a foreign girl, he is bound to marry beneath him; and so the thing to be desired does not come his way. And whereas it is exceedingly pleasant to receive the attentions of the proudest of ladies, the attentions of slaves are quite unappreciated when shown, and any little shortcomings produce grievous outbursts of anger and annoyance. [29]

  “In his relations with young boys, again, even much more than in his relations with women, the despot is at a disadvantage. We all know, I suppose, that passion increases the sweets of sex beyond measure. [30] Passion, however, is very shy of entering the heart of a despot, for passion is fain to desire not the easy prize, but the hoped-for joy. Therefore, just as a man who is a stranger to thirst can get no satisfaction out of drinking, so he who is a stranger to passion is a stranger to the sweetest pleasures of sex.” [31]

  To this speech of Hiero’s Simonides replied, laughing:

  “How say you, Hiero? You deny that love for boys springs up in a despot’s heart? Then how about your passion for Dailochus, whom they call most fair?” [32]

  “Why, Simonides, the explanation, of course, is this: I desire to get from him not what I may have, apparently, for the asking, but that which a despot should be the last to take. [33] The fact is, I desire of Dailochus just that which human nature, maybe, drives us to ask of the fair. But what I long to get, I very strongly desire to obtain by his goodwill, and with his consent; but I think I could sooner desire to do myself an injury than to take it from him by force. [34] For to take from an enemy against his will is, I think, the greatest of all pleasures, but favours from a loved one are very pleasant, I fancy, only when he consents. [35] For instance, if he is in sympathy with you, how pleasant are his looks, how pleasant his questions and his answers; how very pleasant and ravishing are the struggles and bickerings. [36] But to take advantage of a favourite against his will seems to me more like brigandage than love. Nay, your brigand finds some pleasure in his gain and in hurting his foe; but to feel pleasure in hurting one whom you love, to be hated for your affection, to disgust him by your touch, surely that is a mortifying experience and pitiful! [37] The fact is, a private citizen has instant proof that any act of compliance on the part of his beloved is prompted by affection, since he knows that the service rendered is due to no compulsion; but the despot can never feel sure that he is loved. [38] For we know that acts of service prompted by fear copy as closely as possible the ministrations of affection. Indeed, even plots against despots as often as not are the work of those who profess the deepest affection for them.”

  2. To this Simonides replied: “Well, the points that you raise seem to me mere trifles. For I notice that many respected men willingly go short in the matter of meat and drink and delicacies, and deliberately abstain from sexual indulgence. [2] But I will show you where you have a great advantage over private citizens. Your objects are
vast, your attainment swift: you have luxuries in abundance: you own horses unequalled in excellence, arms unmatched in beauty, superb jewelry for women, stately houses full of costly furniture: moreover you have servants many in number and excellent in accomplishments and you are rich in power to harm enemies and reward friends.”

  To this Hiero answered: [3] “Well, Simonides, that the multitude should be deceived by despotic power surprises me not at all, since the mob seems to guess wholly by appearances that one man is happy, another miserable. [4] Despotism flaunts its seeming precious treasures outspread before the gaze of the world: but its troubles it keeps concealed in the heart of the despot, in the place where human happiness and unhappiness are stored away. [5] That this escapes the observation of the multitude I say, I am not surprised. But what does seem surprising to me is that men like you, whose intelligence is supposed to give you a clearer view of most things than your eyes, should be equally blind to it. [6] But I know well enough by experience, Simonides, and I tell you that despots get the smallest share of the greatest blessings, and have most of the greatest evils. [7] Thus, for instance, if peace is held to be a greatest blessing to mankind, very little of it falls to the share of despots: if war is a great evil, of that despots receive the largest share. [8] To begin with, so long as their state is not engaged in a war in which all take part, private citizens are free to go wherever they choose without fear of being killed. But all despots move everywhere as in an enemy’s country; at any rate they think they are bound to wear arms continually themselves, and to take an armed escort about with them at all times. [9]

  “Secondly, in the event of an expedition against an enemy’s country, private citizens at least think themselves safe as soon as they have come home. But when despots reach their own city, they know that they are now among more enemies than ever. [10] Again, suppose that strangers invade their city in superior force; true, the weaker are conscious of danger while they are outside the walls; yet once they are inside the fortress, all feel themselves bestowed in safety. But the despot is not out of danger even when he passes within the palace gates; nay, it is just there that he thinks he must walk most warily. [11] Once again, to private citizens a truce or peace brings rest from war; but despots are never at peace with the people subject to their despotism, and no truce can ever make a despot confident. [12]

  “There are, of course, wars that are waged by states against one another, and wars waged by the despot against his oppressed subjects. Now the hardships incidental to these wars that fall on the citizen fall also on the despot. [13] For both must wear arms, be watchful, run risks; and the sting of a defeat is felt by both alike. [14] So far, then, both are equally affected by wars. But the joys that fall to the citizens of states at war are not experienced by despots. [15] For, you know, when states defeat their foes in a battle, words fail one to describe the joy they feel in the rout of the enemy, in the pursuit, in the slaughter of the enemy. What transports of triumphant pride! What a halo of glory about them! What comfort to think that they have exalted their city! [16] Everyone is crying: `I had a share in the plan, I killed most’; and it’s hard to find where they don’t revel in falsehood, claiming to have killed more than all that were really slain. So glorious it seems to them to have won a great victory! [17] But when a despot harbours suspicion, and, well aware that opposition is on foot, puts the conspirators to death, he knows that he does not exalt the city as a whole; he understands that the number of his subjects will be less; he cannot look cheerful; nor does he boast himself of his achievement; nay, he belittles the occurrence as much as possible, and explains, while he is at the work, that there is nothing wrong in what he has done, so far are his deeds from seeming honourable even to himself. [18] Even the death of those whom he feared does not restore him to confidence; he is yet more on his guard afterwards than before. And now I have shown you the kind of war that a despot wages continually.

  3. “Turn next to friendship, and behold how despots share in it. First let us consider whether friendship is a great blessing to mankind. [2] When a man is loved by friends, I take it, they rejoice at his presence, delight to do him good, miss him when he is absent, greet him most joyfully on his return, rejoice with him in his good fortune, unite in aiding him when they see him tripping. Even states are not blind to the fact that friendship is a very great blessing, and very delightful to men. At any rate, many states have a law that adulterers only may be put to death with impunity, obviously for this reason, because they believe them to be destroyers of the wife’s friendship with her husband; [4] although, when a woman’s lapse is the result of some accident, husbands do not honour their wives any less on that account, provided that wives seem to reserve their affection unblemished. [5] In my judgment, to be loved is a blessing so precious that I believe good things fall literally of themselves on him who is loved from gods and men alike. [6]

  “Such, then, is the nature of this possession — a possession wherein despots above all other men are stinted. If you want to know that I am speaking the truth, Simonides, consider the question in this way. [7] The firmest friendships, I take it, are supposed to be those that unite parents to children, children to parents, wives to husbands, comrades to comrades. [8] Now you will find, if you will but observe, that private citizens are, in fact, loved most deeply by these. But what of despots? Many have slain their own children; many have themselves been murdered by their children; many brothers, partners in despotism, have perished by each other’s hand; many have been destroyed even by their own wives, aye, and by comrades whom they accounted their closest friends. [9] Seeing, then, that they are so hated by those who are bound by natural ties and constrained by custom to love them most, how are we to suppose that they are loved by any other being?

  4. “Next take confidence. Surely he who has very little of that is stinted in a great blessing? What companionship is pleasant without mutual trust? What intercourse between husband and wife is delightful without confidence? What squire is pleasant if he is not trusted? [2] Now of this confidence in others despots enjoy the smallest share. They go in constant suspicion even of their meat and drink; they bid their servitors taste them first, before the libation is offered to the gods, because of their misgiving that they may sup poison in the dish or the bowl. [3] Again, to all other men their fatherland is very precious. For citizens ward one another without pay from their slaves and from evildoers, to the end that none of the citizens may perish by a violent death. [4] They have gone so far in measures of precaution that many have made a law whereby even the companion of the bloodguilty is deemed impure; and so — thanks to the fatherland — every citizen lives in security. [5] But for despots the position is the reverse in this case too. Instead of avenging them, the cities heap honours on the slayer of the despot; and, whereas they exclude the murderers of private persons from the temples, the cities, so far from treating assassins in the same manner, actually put up statues of them in the holy places. [6]

  “If you suppose that just because he has more possessions than the private citizen, the despot gets more enjoyment out of them, this is not so either, Simonides. Trained athletes feel no pleasure when they prove superior to amateurs, but they are cut to the quick when they are beaten by a rival athlete; in like manner the despot feels no pleasure when he is seen to possess more than private citizens, but is vexed when he has less than other despots; for he regards them as his rivals in wealth. [7] Nor even does the despot gain the object of his desire any quicker than the private citizen. For the private citizen desires a house or a farm or a servant; but the despot covets cities or wide territory or harbours or strong citadels, and these are far more difficult and perilous to acquire than the objects that attract the citizen. [8] And, moreover, you will find that even poverty is rarer among private citizens than among despots. For much and little are to be measured not by number, but in relation to the owner’s needs; so that what is more than enough is much, and what is less than enough is little. [9] Therefore, the despot w
ith his abundance of wealth has less to meet his necessary expenses than the private citizen. For while private citizens can cut down the daily expenditure as they please, despots cannot, since the largest items in their expenses and the most essential are the sums they spend on the life-guards, and to curtail any of these means ruin. [10] Besides, when men can have all they need by honest means, why pity them as though they were poor? May not those who through want of money are driven to evil and unseemly expedients in order to live, more justly be accounted wretched and poverty-stricken? [11] Now, despots are not seldom forced into the crime of robbing temples and their fellow men through chronic want of cash to meet their necessary expenses. Living, as it were, in a perpetual state of war, they are forced to maintain an army, or they perish.

  5. “Despots are oppressed by yet another trouble, Simonides, which I will tell you of. They recognize a stout-hearted, a wise or an upright man as easily as private citizens do. But instead of admiring such men, they fear them, — the brave lest they strike a bold stroke for freedom, the wise lest they hatch a plot, the upright lest the people desire them for leaders. [2] When they get rid of such men through fear, who are left for their use, save only the unrighteous, the vicious and the servile, — the unrighteous being trusted because, like the despots, they fear that the cities may some day shake off the yoke and prove their masters, the vicious on account of the licence they enjoy as things are, the servile because even they themselves have no desire for freedom? This too, then, is a heavy trouble, in my opinion, to see the good in some men, and yet perforce to employ others. [3]

  “Furthermore, even a despot must needs love his city, for without the city he can enjoy neither safety nor happiness. But despotism forces him to find fault even with his fatherland. For he has no pleasure in seeing that the citizens are stout-hearted and well armed; rather he delights to make the foreigners more formidable than the citizens, and these he employs as a body-guard. [4] Again, even when favourable seasons yield abundance of good things, the despot is a stranger to the general joy; for the needier the people, the humbler he thinks to find them.