incriminate his fatherland.[5] To train his citizens to soldiery, to render them brave warriors, and well armed, confers no pleasure on him; rather he will take delight to make his foreigners more formidable than those to whom the state belongs, and these foreigners he will depend on as his body-guard.
[5] Or, 'depreciate the land which gave him birth.' Holden cf. 'Cyrop.' VII. ii. 22. See Sturz, s.v.
Nay more, not even in the years of plenty,[6] when abundance of all blessings reigns, not even then may the tyrant's heart rejoice amid the general joy, for the greater the indigence of the community the humbler he will find them: that is his theory.
[6] 'In good seasons,' 'seasons of prosperity.' Cf. Aristot. 'Pol.' v. 6. 17.
VI
He continued: I desire to make known to you, Simonides,[1] those divers pleasures which were mine whilst I was still a private citizen, but of which to-day, 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;[2] or, if I craved for quietude,[3] 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;[4] or ofttimes till we had steeped our souls in song and dance[5] and revelry; ofttimes till the flame of passion kindled in the breasts of my companions and my own.[6] 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?[7] 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?
[1] Or, 'I wish I could disclose to you (he added) those heart-easing joys.' For {euphrosunas} cf. 'Od.' vi. 156; Aesch. 'P. V.' 540; Eur. 'Bacch.' 376. A favourite word with our author; see 'Ages.' ix. 4; 'Cyrop.' passim; 'Mem.' III. viii. 10; 'Econ.' ix. 12.
[2] Lit. 'delighting I in them and they in me.'
[3] Or, 'when I sought tranquility I was my own companion.'
[4] Or, 'in sheer forgetfulness.'
[5] Or, 'absorbed our souls in song and festal cheer and dance.' Cf. 'Od.' viii. 248, 249, {aiei d' emin dais te phile kitharis te khoroi te} | {eimata t' exemoiba loetra te therma kau eunai}, 'and dear to us ever is the banquet and the harp and the dance, and changes of raiment, and the warm bath, and love and sleep' (Butcher and Lang).
[6] Reading as vulg. {epithumias}. Breit. cf. 'Mem.' III. ix. 7; Plat. 'Phaed.' 116 E, 'he has eaten and drunk and enjoyed the society of his beloved' (Jowett). See 'Symp.' the finale; or if, after Weiske and Cobet, {euthumias}, transl. 'to the general hilarity of myself and the whole company' (cf. 'Cyrop.' I. iii. 12, IV. v. 7), but this is surely a bathos rhetorically.
[7] Or, 'a worse perplexity.' See 'Hell.' VII. iii. 8.
For terror, you know, not only is a source of pain indwelling in the breast itself, but, ever in close attendance, shadowing the path,[8] becomes the destroyer of all sweet joys.
[8] Reading {sumparakolouthon lumeon}. Stob. gives {sumparomarton lumanter}. For the sentiment cf. 'Cyrop.' III. i. 25.
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,[9] 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.
[9] Or, 'in the van of battle, opposite the hostile lines.'
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,[10] 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.[11] 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;[12] and the more so, when the guards in question are not forthcoming except for money's sake;[13] 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.
[10] Or, 'beyond the sentinels themselves is set the outpost of the laws, who watch the watch.'
[11] Or, 'ten-day labourers in harvest-time.'
[12] Or, 'but to discover one single faithful man is far more difficult than scores of labourers in any field of work you please.'
[13] Or, 'are merely hirelings for filthy lucre's sake.'
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:[14] he must keep them at arm's length, and yet be compelled to lean upon them.
[14] Lit. 'he must at one and the same moment guard against them, and yet be driven also to depend 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.[15] 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.
[15] Lit. 'good but fearful (i.e. he makes one fear), he will some day do some desperate mischief.'
VII
Now when he had heard these reasonings, Simonides replied: O Hiero, there is a potent force, it would appear, the name of which is honour, so attractive that human beings strain to grasp it,[1] and in the effort they will undergo all pains, endure all perils. It would further seem that even you, you tyrants, in spite of all that sea of trouble which a tyranny involves, rush headlong in pursuit of it. You must be honoured. All the world shall be your ministers; they shall carry out your every injunction with unhestitating zeal.[2] You shall be the cynosure of neighbouring eyes; men shall rise from their seats at your approach; they shall step aside to yield you passage in the streets.[3] All present shall at all times magnify you,[4] and shall pay homage to you both with words and deeds. Those, I take it, are ever the kind of things which subjects do to please the monarch,[5] and thus they treat each hero of the moment, whom they strive to honour.[6]
[1] Lit. 'that human beings will abide all risks and undergo all pains to clutch the bait.'
[2] Cf. 'Cyrop.' II. iii. 8; VIII. i. 29.
[3] Cf. 'Mem.' II. iii. 16; 'Cyrop.' VII. v. 20.
[4] {gerairosi}, poetic. Cf. 'Cyrop.' VIII. i. 39; 'Hell.' I. vii. 33; 'Econ.' iv. 8; 'Herod.' v. 67; Pind. 'O.' iii. 3, v.
