Dio Chrysostom, On Kingship 1.2

Now it seems to me that Homer was quite right in this as in many other sayings, for it implies that not every king derives his scepter or this royal office from Zeus, but only the good king, and that he receives it on no other title than that he shall plan and study the welfare of his subjects; he is not to become licentious or profligate, stuffing and gorging with folly, insolence, arrogance, and all manner of lawlessness, by any and every means within his power, a soul perturbed by anger, pain, fear, pleasure, and lusts of every kind, but to the best of his ability he is to devote his attention to himself and his subjects, becoming indeed a guide and shepherd of his people, not, as someone​ has said, a caterer and banqueter at their expense. Nay, he ought to be just such a man as to think that he should sleep at all the whole night though as having no leisure for idleness.​ 

Homer, too, in agreement with all other wise and truthful men, says that no wicked or licentious or avaricious person can ever become a competent ruler or master either of himself or of anybody else, nor will such a man ever be a king even though all the world, both Greeks and barbarians, men and women, affirm the contrary,​ yea, though not only men admire and obey him, but the birds of the air and the wild beasts on the mountains no less than men submit to him and do his bidding.

Let me speak, then, of the king as Homer conceives him, of him who is in very truth a king; for this discourse of mine, delivered in all simplicity without any flattery or abuse, of itself discerns the king that is like the good one, and commends him in so far as he is like him, while the one who is unlike him it exposes and rebukes. 

Such a king is, in the first place, regard­ful of the gods and holds the divine in honor. For it is impossible that the just and good man should repose greater confidence in any other being than in the supremely just and good—the gods. He, however, who, being wicked, imagines that he at any time pleases the gods, in that very assumption lacks piety, for he has assumed that the deity is either foolish or evil. 

Next after the gods the good king has regard for his fellow-men; he honors and loves the good, yet extends his care to all. Now who takes better care of a herd of cattle than does the herdsman? Who is more helpful and better to flocks of sheep than a shepherd? Who is a truer lover of horses than he who controls the greatest number of horses and derives the greatest benefit from horses? And so who is presumably as great a lover of his fellow-man as he who exercises authority over the greatest number of men and enjoys the highest admiration of men? 

For it would be strange if men governing beasts, wild and of another blood than theirs, prove more kindly to these their dependents than a monarch to civilized men who are of the same flesh and blood as himself.  And further, cattle love their keepers best and are most submissive to them; the same is true of horses and their drivers; hunters are protected and loved by their dogs, and in the same way other subject creatures love their masters. 

How then would it be conceivable that, while beings devoid of intelligence and reason recognize and love those who care for them, that creature which is by far the most intelligent and best understands how to repay kindness with gratitude should fail to recognize, nay, should even plot against, its friends? No indeed! For of necessity the kindly and humane king is not only beloved but even adored by his fellow-men. And because he knows this and is by nature so inclined, he displays a soul benignant and gentle towards all, inasmuch as he regards all as loyal and as his friends. 

The good king also believes it to be due to his position to have the larger portion, not of wealth or of pleasures, but of painstaking care and anxieties; hence he is actually more fond of toil than many others are of pleasure or of wealth. For he knows that pleasure, in addition to the general harm it does to those who constantly indulge therein, also quickly renders them incapable of pleasure, whereas toil, besides conferring other benefits, continually increases a man's capacity for toil. 

He alone, therefore, may call his soldiers "fellow-soldiers" and his associates "friends" without making mockery of the word friendship; and not only may he be called by the title "Father" of his people and his subjects,​ but he may justify the title by his deeds. In the title "master," however, he can take no delight, nay, not even in relation to his slaves, much less to his free subjects; for he looks upon himself as being king, not for the sake of his individual self, but for the sake of all men. 

Therefore he finds greater pleasure in conferring benefits than those benefited do in receiving them, and in this one pleasure he is insatiable. For the other functions of royalty he regards as obligatory; that of benefaction alone he considers both voluntary and blessed. Blessings he dispenses with the most lavish hand, as though the supply were inexhaustible; but of anything hurtful, on the contrary, he can no more be the cause than the sun can be the cause of darkness.  

Men who have seen and associated with him are loath to leave him, while those who know him only by hearsay are more eager to see him than children are to find their unknown fathers. His enemies fear him, and no one acknowledges himself his foe; but his friends are full of courage, and those exceeding near unto him deem themselves of all men most secure. They who come into his presence and behold him feel neither terror nor fear; but into their hearts creeps a feeling of profound respect, something much stronger and more power­ful than fear. For those who fear must inevitably hate and want to escape; those who feel respect must linger and admire.

He holds that sincerity and truthfulness are qualities befitting a king and a prudent man, while unscrupulousness and deceit are for the fool and the slave, for he observes that among the wild beasts also it is the most cowardly and ignoble which surpass all the rest in lying and deceiving. 

Though naturally covetous of honor, and knowing that it is the good that men are prone to honor, he has less hope of winning honor from the unwilling than he has of gaining the friendship of those who hate him. 

He is warlike to the extent that the making of war rests with him, and peaceful to the extent that there is nothing left worth his fighting for. For assuredly he is well aware that they who are best prepared for war have it most in their power to live in peace. 

He is also by nature fond of his companions, fellow-citizens, and soldiers in like measure; for a ruler who is suspicious of the military and has never or rarely seen those who face peril and hardship in support of his kingdom, but continually flatters the unprofitable and unarmed masses, is like a shepherd who does not know those who help him to keep guard, never proffers them food, and never shares the watch with them; for such a man tempts not only the wild beasts, but even his own dogs, to prey upon the fold. 

He, on the contrary, who pampers his soldiers by not drilling them or encouraging them to work hard and, at the same time, evinces no concern for the people at large, is like a ship-captain who demoralizes his crew with surfeit of food and noonday sleep and takes no thought for his passengers or for his ship as it goes to ruin. And yet if one is above reproach in these two matters, but fails to honor those who are close to him and are called his friends, and does not see to it that they are looked upon by all men as blessed and objects of envy, he becomes a traitor to himself and his kingdom ere he is aware by disheartening those who are his friends and suffering nobody else to covet his friendship and by robbing himself of that noblest and most profitable possession: friendship. 

For who is more indefatigable in toil, when there is occasion for toil, than a friend? Who is readier to rejoice in one's good fortune? Whose praise is sweeter than that of friends? From whose lips does one learn the truth with less pain? What fortress, what bulwarks, what arms are more steadfast or better than the protection of loyal hearts? For whatever is the number of comrades one has acquired, so many are the eyes with which he can see what he wishes, so many the ears with which he can hear what he needs to hear, so many the minds with which he can take thought concerning his welfare. Indeed, it is exactly as if a god had given him, along with his one body, a multitude of souls all full of concern in his behalf. 

But I will pass over most of the details and give the clearest mark of a true king: he is one whom all good men can praise without compunction not only during his life but even afterwards. And yet, even so, he does not himself covet the praise of the vulgar and the loungers about the marketplace, but only that of the free-born and noble, men who would prefer to die rather than be guilty of falsehood. 

Who, therefore, would not account such a man and such a life blessed? From what remote lands would men not come to see him and to profit from his honorable and upright character? What spectacle is more impressive than that of a noble and diligent king? What can give greater pleasure than a gentle and kindly ruler who desires to serve all and has it in his power so to do? What is more profitable than an equitable and just king? Whose life is safer than his whom all alike protect, whose is happier than his who esteems no man an enemy, and whose is freer from vexation than his who has no cause to blame himself? Who is more fortunate, too, than that man whose goodness is known of all?

In plain and simple language I have described the good king. If any of his attributes seem to belong to you,​ happy are you in your gracious and excellent nature, and happy are we who share its blessings with you.​