Hiero

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.

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.

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.

For both must wear arms, be watchful, run risks; and the sting of a defeat is felt by both alike.

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.[*](I.e., in the wars that he wages against his subjects. The whole of this paragraph is obscurely expressed and highly artificial; and it has been variously interpreted. The text also is uncertain.)

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!

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!

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.

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.