Hiero

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.

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.

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:

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.