Hiero

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.