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. 11; "N." v. 15; "Od." xiv. 437, 441; "Il." vii. 321; Plat. "Rep." 468 D, quoting "Il." vii. 321.
[5] Reading {tois turannois}, or if {tous turannous}, after Cobet, "That is how they treat crowned heads."
[6] Cf. Tennyson, "Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington":
With honour, honour, honour to him, Eternal honour to his name.
Yes, Hiero, and herein precisely lies the difference between a man and other animals, in this outstretching after honour.[7] Since, it would seem, all living creatures alike take pleasure in meats and drinks, in sleep and sexual joys. Only the love of honour is implanted neither in unreasoning brutes[8] nor universally in man. But they in whose hearts the passion for honour and fair fame has fallen like a seed, these unmistakably[9] are separated most widely from the brutes. These may claim to be called men,[10] not human beings merely. So that, in my poor judgment, it is but reasonable you should submit to bear the pains and penalties of royalty, since you are honoured far beyond all other mortal men. And indeed no pleasure known to man would seem to be nearer that of gods than the delight[11] which centres in proud attributes.
[7] Or, "in this strong aspiration after honour." Holden aptly cf. "Spectator," No. 467: "The love of praise is a passion deeply fixed in the mind of every extraordinary person; and those who are most affected with it seem most to partake of that particle of the divinity which distinguishes mankind from the inferior creation."
[8] {alogous}, i.e. "without speach and reason"; cf. modern Greek {o alogos} = the horse (sc. the animal par excellence). See "Horsemanship," viii. 14.
[9] {ede}, "ipso facto."
[10] See "Anab." I. vii. 4; Frotscher ap. Breit. cf. Cic. "ad Fam." v. 17. 5, "ut et hominem te et virum esse meminisses."
[11] Or, "joyance."
To these arguments Hiero replied: Nay, but, Simonides, the honours and proud attributes bestowed on tyrants have much in common with their love-makings, as I described them. Like honours like loves, the pair are of a piece.
For just as the ministrations won from loveless hearts[12] are felt to be devoid of grace, and embraces forcibly procured are sweet no longer, so the obsequious cringings of alarm are hardly honours. Since how shall we assert that people who are forced to rise from their seats do really rise to honour those whom they regard as malefactors? or that these others who step aside to let their betters pass them in the street, desire thus to show respect to miscreants?[13] And as to gifts, it is notorious, people commonly bestow them largely upon those they hate, and that too when their fears are gravest, hoping to avert impending evil. Nay, these are nothing more nor less than acts of slavery, and they may fairly be set down as such.
[12] Or, "the compliance of cold lips where love is not reciprocated is . . ."
[13] Or, "to rank injustice."
But honours have a very different origin,[14] as different to my mind as are the sentiments to which they give expression. See how, for instance, men of common mould will single out a man, who is a man,[15] they feel, and competent to be their benefactor; one from whom they hope to reap rich blessings. His name lives upon their lips in praise. As they gaze at him, each one among them sees in him a private treasure. Spontaneously they yield him passage in the streets. They rise from their seats to do him honour, out of love not fear; they crown him for his public[16] virtue's sake and benefactions. They shower gifts upon him of their own free choice. These same are they who, if my definition holds, may well be said to render honour to their hero by such service, whilst he that is held worthy of these services is truly honoured. And for my part I can but offer my congratulations to him. "God bless him," say I, perceiving that so far from being the butt of foul conspiracy, he is an object of anxiety to all, lest evil should betide him; and so he pursues the even tenour of his days in happiness exempt from fears and jealousy[17] and risk. But the current of the tyrant's life runs differently. Day and night, I do assure you, Simonides, he lives like one condemned by the general verdict of mankind to die for his iniquity.