[50] “The most disliked man, too, is he who has acquired great wealth unjustly; hence no man is more disliked than a tyrant. And furthermore, he is obliged to show favours to those about him, otherwise he will perish most speedily. But it is not easy to give to many repeatedly without taking from others. Accordingly, the men whom he despoils are his enemies, while his beneficiaries eye him with suspicion and seek to be rid of him as soon as possible. What is far removed from him he fears because of its remoteness; what is near, because it is close to him; from those at a distance he looks for war, from those near at hand, treachery. [51] Peace he considers undesirable because it leaves men idle, and war, because he is obliged to disturb his subjects by raising money and compelling them to take the field as well. So when there is a war, tyrants want peace; and when peace has been made, they at once scheme for war. [52] When the people have all the comforts of life, they fear their insolence; when hard times come, they fear their wrath. They feel that it is safe neither to leave the country nor to stay the home, neither to appear in public nor to live in seclusion, nay, not even to set foot where they may do so in safety, and that plotting and treachery menace them on every side. [53] Every one of them calls to mind the deaths of tyrants and all the conspiracies that have ever been formed against them; he imagines that they are all coming his way, and is terror-stricken as if he were doomed to all those deaths; and he is always wanting to look on every side and to turn around, as though he might be struck from any quarter; but this is the very thing he may not do from shame and fear at once. [54] For the more apparent the tyrant’s fear, the more do men conspire against him through scorn of his cowardice. He lives, therefore, like one shut up in a narrow cell with swords hanging over his head and others, just touching the skin, fixed all about him. [55] So closely indeed about the tyrant’s soul as well as his body are the swords set that Tantalus in Hades has a far easier time of it, Tantalus, who is said
‘to dread the rock that sways above his head.’
Tantalus at least has no further dread of death, while the tyrant suffers in life that fate which men ascribe to Tantalus in the other world.
[56] “Now for those who have made themselves tyrants of but a single city or a small country it is not impossible to flee from their realm and live in seclusion elsewhere — yet no one has any fondness for a tyrant, but only hatred and suspicion, and everyone is ready to surrender him to his victims — those, however, who rule over many cities and peoples and over a boundless territory, as the Persian king does, cannot escape, even though they come to comprehend their evil plight and some god remove their ignorance from them. [57] It seems, then, that the tyrant’s life would never be safe, not even if he were to become bronze or iron, but that even then he would be destroyed by being broken to pieces or melted down.
“If you talk with him boldly, he is angered and fears your frankness; if you converse with him meekly and deferentially, he suspects your meekness. [58] He feels that he is being insulted by those who treat him as an equal and deceived by those who are more obsequious. Censure, too, stings him far more than it does others because he, a sovereign, is spoken ill of; nor is he pleased with praise either, [59] for he does not think that the speaker is sincere in his praise. Then, of the fairest and most useful of all treasures he has the greatest lack; for friendship and good-will he can expect from no one; nay, keepers of savage lions will love these brutes sooner than they who court and approach tyrants will love them.
[60] “I, however,” says Diogenes, “go by night whithersoever I will and travel by day unattended, and I am not afraid to go even through an army if need be, without the herald’s staff, yea, and amid brigands; for I have no enemy, public or private, to block my way. If all the gold, all the silver, and all the copper should give out, that would not injure me in the least. [61] And if an earthquake lays all the houses low as happened once in Sparta, and all the sheep are killed so that not a single man has wherewithal to clothe himself, and want overwhelms not only Attica but Boeotia as well and the Peloponnesus and Thessaly, as it is said to have done aforetime, I shall fare none the worse nor be the more destitute. [62] For how much more naked shall I be than I am now, how much more homeless? I shall find all the food I need in apples, millet, barley, vetches, the cheapest of lentils, acorns roasted in the ashes, and cornel-berries, on which Homer says Circe feasted Odysseus’ comrades and on which even the largest animals can subsist.”
THE SEVENTH OR EUBOEAN DISCOURSE
The seventh Discourse belongs to the later period of Dio’s life, as the reference to himself as an old man and the style show. It seems to have been delivered in Rome.
This Discourse falls naturally into two parts: first, the story of the simple hunters in the wilds of Euboea — a very popular one that at an early period was separated from the rest of the Discourse — second, a description of the life Dio would have the poor lead in the cities and the difficulties they have to contend with, and, finally, of the social evils that should be remedied.
The portrayal of the conditions in the country and in the cities of his time is very instructive for the historian who would become acquainted with that period of history and gain some insight into the causes that led to the downfall of the Roman Empire.
The Euboean Discourse, or The Hunter
I shall now relate a personal experience of mine; not merely something I have heard from others. Perhaps, indeed, it is quite natural for an old man to be garrulous and reluctant to drop any subject that occurs to him, and possibly this is just as true of the wanderer as of the old man. The reason, I dare say, is that both have had many experiences that they find considerable pleasure in retelling. Anyhow I shall describe the character and manner of life of some people that I met in practically the centre of Greece.
[2] It chanced that at the close of the summer season I was crossing from Chios with some fishermen in a very small boat, when such a storm arose that we had great difficulty in reaching the Hollows of Euboea in safety. The crew ran their boat up a rough beach under the cliffs, where it was wrecked, and then went off to a company of purple-fishers whose vessel was anchored in the shelter of the spur of rocks near by, and they planned to stay there and work along with them. [3] So I was left alone, and not knowing of any town in which to seek shelter, I wandered aimlessly along the shore on the chance that I might find some boat sailing by or riding at anchor. I had gone on a considerable distance without seeing anybody when I chanced upon a deer that had just fallen over the cliff and lay in the wash of the breakers, lapped by the waves and still breathing. And soon I thought I heard the barking of dogs above, but not clearly owing to the roar of the sea. [4] On going forward and gaining an elevated position with great difficulty, I saw the dogs baffled, running to and fro, and inferred that their quarry, being hard pressed by them, had jumped over the cliff. Then, soon after, I saw a man, a hunter, to judge by his appearance and dress; he wore a beard on his healthy face, and not simply hair at the back of his head in mean and base fashion, as Homer says the Euboeans did when they went again Troy, mocking and ridiculing them, it seems to me, because, while the other Greeks there made a good appearance, they had hair on only half the head.
[5] Now this man hailed me, saying, “Stranger, have you see a deer running anywhere hereabouts?” And I replied, “Yonder it is this minute, in the surf,” and I took him and showed it to him. So he dragged it out of the sea, ripped off the skin with his knife while I lent a helping hand as best I could. Then, after cutting off the hind quarters, he was about to carry them away along with the hide, when he invited me to come along and dine upon the venison with him, adding that his dwelling was not far away. [6] “And then in the morning,” he continued, “after you have rested with us, you shall come back to the sea, since the present is no weather for sailing. Yet do not worry about that,” he continued, “I should be content to have the wind die down after full five days, but that is not likely when the peaks of the Euboean mountains are so capped with clouds as you see t
hem now.” And at the same time he asked me whence I came, how I had landed there, and whether the boat had not been wrecked. “It was a very small one,” I replied, “belonging to some fishermen who were crossing over, and I, their only passenger, sailed with them on urgent business, [7] but all the same it ran aground and was wrecked.” “Well, it could not easily have been otherwise,” he replied; “for see, how wild and rugged the part of the island is that faces the sea. These are what they call the Hollows of Euboea, where a ship is doomed if it is driven ashore, and rarely are any of those aboard saved either, unless, of course, like you they sail in a very light craft. But come and have no fear. To-day you shall rest after your trying experience, but to-morrow we shall do our best to get you out safely, now that we have come to know you. [8] You look to me like a man from the city, not a sailor or worker on the land, nay, you seem to be suffering from some grievous infirmity of body, to judge by your leanness.”
I followed him gladly without fear of any treachery, since I had nothing but a shabby cloak. [9] Now I had often found in other situations like this — for I was continually roaming about — and I certainly did in this one, that poverty is in reality a sacred and inviolable thing and no one wrongs you; yes, much less than they wrong those who carry the herald’s wand. And so I followed without misgiving on this occasion. [10] And it was about five miles to his place.
As we proceeded on our way he told me of his circumstances and how he lived with his wife and children. “There are two of us, stranger,” he said, “who live in the same place. Each is married to a sister of the other, and we have children by them, sons and daughters. [11] We live by the chase for the most part and work but a small bit of land. You see, the place does not belong to us: we did not inherit it or get it by our own efforts. Our fathers, though free, were just as poor as we are — hired herdsmen tending the cattle of a wealthy man, one of the residents of the island here, a man who owned many droves of horses and cattle, many flocks, many good fields too and many other possessions together with all these hills. [12] Now when he died and his property was confiscated — they say he was put to death by the emperor for his wealth — they at once drove off his stock to be butchered, and in addition to his stock our own few cattle, and, as for our wages, no one has ever paid them. [13] At that time, then, we stayed of necessity at the place where he happened to have had our cattle and had built certain huts and an enclosure of palings for the calves, not very large or strong — just what would do for the summer, I suppose; for in the winter we grazed our cattle in the flat lands, where we had plenty of pasturage and a good deal of hay put up; but in the summer we would drive them into the hills. [14] It was in this place especially that our fathers made their steadings; for the place sloped in from both sides, forming a ravine, deep and shaded; through the centre flowed a quiet stream in which the cows and calves could wade with perfect ease; the water was abundant and pure, bubbling up from a spring near by; and in the summer a breeze always blew through the ravine. Then the glades round about were soft and moist, breeding never a gadfly or any other cattle pest. [15] Many very beautiful meadows stretched beneath tall sparse trees, and the whole district abounded in luxuriant vegetation throughout the entire summer, so that the cattle did not range very far. For these reasons they regularly established the herd there.
“Now our fathers remained in the huts at that time, hoping to hire out or find some work, and they lived on the produce of a very small piece of land which they happened to have under cultivation near the cattle-yard. [16] This was quite enough for them as it was well manured. And having nothing more to do with cattle they turned to hunting, sometimes going alone and at other times with dogs; for two of those which had followed the cattle, after going a long distance and not seeing the herdsmen, had left the herd and returned to the place. These at first merely followed as if out for some other purpose than hunting, and though, when he saw wolves, they would give chase for a distance, yet to boars or deer they would pay no attention whatever. [17] But whenever they sighted a bear, whether early or late, they would rally to the attack, barking and fending him off, as if they were fighting a man. And so, from tasting the blood of boars and deer and often eating their flesh, they changed their habits late in life and learned to like meat instead of barley-bread, gorging themselves with it whenever any game was caught and going hungry otherwise, till they finally gave more attention to the chase, pursued with equal zest every animal they sighted, began to pick up the scent and trails in some way or other, and thus changed from shepherd dogs into a sort of late-trained and rather slow hunting dogs.
[18] “Then when winter came on, there was no work in sight for the men whether they came down to town or to a village. So after making their huts tighter and the yard fence closer, they managed to get along and worked the whole of that plot, and the winter hunting proved easier. [19] The tracks were naturally clearer, because printed on the damp ground, and the snow made them visible at a great distance, so that there was no need of a troublesome search, since a high-road, as it were, led to them, and the quarry was sluggish and waited longer. It is possible, besides, to catch hares and gazelles in their lairs. [20] In this way, then, our fathers lived from that time on, no longer having any desire for a different kind of life. And they married us their sons to wives, each giving his own daughter. The two old men died about a year ago, counting the many years they had lived, but being still strong and youthful and vigorous of body. Of the mothers mine is yet living.
[21] “Now the other one of us has never yet been to town, though he is fifty years old, and I only twice — once when I was still a boy, with my father, when we had the cattle; and later on a man came demanding money, under the impression that we had some, and bade us follow him to the city. Now we had no money and swore on oath that we had not, adding that otherwise we would have given it. [22] We entertained him as best we could and gave him two deerskins, and I followed him to the city, for he said it was necessary for one of us to go and explain this matter.
“Now, as on my former trip, I saw many large houses and a strong surrounding wall with a number of lofty square structures on the wall and many boats lying in complete calm at anchor in a lake as it were. [23] There is nothing like that anywhere here where you put in, and that is why the ships are wrecked. Now that is what I saw, and a big crowd herded in together and a tremendous uproar and shouting, so that I thought they were all fighting with one another. Well, he brought me before certain magistrates and said with a laugh, ‘This is the man you sent me for. He has nothing but his long hair and a hut of very strong timber.’ [24] Then the officials went into the theatre and I with them. The theatre is hollow like a ravine, except that it is not long in two directions but semi-circular, and not natural but built of stone. But perhaps you are laughing at me for telling you what you know perfectly well.
“Now at first the crowd deliberated on other matters for a considerable while, and they kept up a shouting, at one time in gentle fashion and all of them in cheerful mood, as they applauded certain speakers, but at other times with vehemence and in wrath. [25] This wrath of theirs was something terrible, and they at once frightened the men against whom they raised their voices, so that some of them ran about begging for mercy, while others threw off their cloaks for fear. I too myself was once almost knocked over by the shouting, as though a tidal wave or thunder-storm had suddenly broken over me. [26] And other men would come forward, or stand up where they were, and address the multitude, sometimes using a few words, at other times making long speeches. To some of these they would listen for quite a long time, but at others they were angry as soon as they opened their mouths, and they would not let them so much as cheep.
“But when they finally settled down and there was quiet, they brought me forward. [27] And some cried out, ‘This man, sirs, is one of the fellows who have been enjoying the use of our public land for many years, and not only he but his father before him. They graze their cattle on our mountains, farm and hunt, have b
uilt many houses, have set out vines, and enjoy many other advantages without paying rent to anybody for the land or ever having received it from the people as a gift. [28] For what, pray, would they ever have received it? And though they occupy what is ours and are wealthy, yet they have never performed any public service, nor do they pay any tax on what they make, but live free from taxes and public services as though they were benefactors of the city. Yes, and I believe,’ he continued, ‘that they have never come here before.’ [29] I shook my head, and the crowd laughed when they saw. This laughing enraged the speaker and he abused me roundly. Then turning toward the audience once more, he said, ‘Well, then, if these doings meet with your approval, we had all better lose no time in looting the public property, some of us taking the city’s money, just as certain individuals are even now doing, no doubt, and others squatting upon the land without your consent, if you are going to let these backwoodsmen hold without payment more than 250 acres of the best land, from which you might get three Attic measures of grain per head.’
[30] “When I heard this, I laughed as loud as I could. The crowd, however, did not laugh as before but became very noisy, while the fellow grew angry, and giving me a fierce look, said, ‘Do you see the deceitfulness and impudence of the scamp and how insolently he mocks me? I have a mind to have him and his partner dragged off to prison; for I understand that there are two ringleaders of this gang that has seized practically all the land in the mountains. [31] Yes, and I do not believe they keep their hands off the wrecks that are cast up from time to time, living as they do almost above the rocks above Cape Caphereus. Where, otherwise, did they get such valuable fields, nay, rather, entire villages, and such numbers of cattle and draught animals and slaves? [32] Perhaps, too, you note how poor his blouse is and the skin he put on to come here in order to deceive you with the notion that he is evidently a beggar and has nothing. For my part, said he, when I look at him, I am almost frightened, as I fancy I should be if I saw Nauplius come from Caphereus. I believe he flashes mariners a signal from the heights so as to decoy them on to the rocks.’ [33] While he said this and much more besides, the crowd grew ugly, while I was sore perplexed and afraid they might do me some mischief.
Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom Page 12