Dio Chrysostom, On Kingship 3.2

Accordingly, that I may not be open to the charge of flattery by my would‑be detractors, and that you on your part may not be accused of a wanting to be praised to your very face, I shall speak of the ideal king, of what sort he should be, and how he differs from the man who pretends to be a ruler but is in reality far from true dominion and kingship. 

And if anyone shall say that I always say the same things, this will be the same charge that was laid against Socrates. For the story runs that once Hippias of Elis, who had been listening for some time to the words of Socrates about justice and virtue and to his wonted comparisons with pilots, physicians, cobblers and potters, finally made the exclamation natural to a sophist, "The same things once more, Socrates!" 

To which the other replied with a laugh, "Yes, and on the same subjects. Now you by reason of your wisdom probably never say the same about the same things, but to me this appears a thing most excellent. We know that liars say many things and all different, while those who stick to the truth cannot find anything else to say than just the truth."

So too with me: if I knew of any subject more serious or more suited to you, that is the subject that I should attempt to handle. But as it is, just as I should say that the proper subject for the physician to listen to or discuss is physical health and disease (indeed, the terms applied to physicians, hygieinoi and iatrikoi, mean "men who are concerned with health and with healing"), and for the navigator, seasons and winds and stars (for navigators are rightly termed kybernetikoi, "men concerned with the steering of ships"), so I maintain that the proper subject for the ruler and king is the government and control of men. 

So in discussing this subject I shall endeavor to set forth the views of Socrates. After the answer about happiness, Socrates' interrogator put the following question to him:

"Socrates," said he, "you know perfectly well that of all men under the sun that man is most power­ful and in might no whit inferior to the gods themselves who is able to accomplish the seemingly impossible—if it should be his will, to have men walk dryshod over the sea, to sail over the mountains, to drain rivers dry by drinking—or have you not heard that Xerxes, the king of the Persians, made of the dry land a sea by cutting through the loftiest of the mountains and separating Athos from the mainland, and that he led his infantry through the sea,​ riding upon a chariot just like Poseidon in Homer's description? And perhaps in the same way the dolphins and the monsters of the deep swam under his raft as the king drove along." 

"I cannot tell you that either," replied Socrates; "I mean whether the man who does such things has the greatest power, as you affirm, or the least power, or none at all. If, for example, he was temperate, brave, and just, if all his acts were marked by judgment, I think he was a power­ful man and really had the greatest might. 

"But if, on the other hand, he was cowardly, foolish, licentious, and lawless, and understood what he did in wanton insolence, then, on the contrary, I think he was a weaker man than the veriest beggar who has not even a clod of earth to break up with the pick to gain his livelihood—to say nothing of breaking through the highest mountains, the feat of which you speak. 

"For he who cannot check a fit of anger, which is often caused by mere trifles; who cannot conquer a lust for the basest things; who cannot thrust pain aside, imaginary as it often is; who cannot endure toil, even to gain pleasure; who cannot drive fear from his soul, though it avails naught in the midst of alarms but works the greatest mischief—must not such a man be greatly lacking in strength, be weaker than a woman, weaker than a eunuch? 

"Or do you call that man strong who is weaker than the softest of things?—I mean sleep, enchained by which, often without fetters, he cannot help himself, let alone others, nor call to his aid anyone willing to fight in his defense." 

On hearing this, the other exclaimed: "However, I presume you know, Socrates, that of the entire inhabited world the Persian king rules over the largest and best part; for, excluding Greece, Italy, and a few other peoples scattered throughout Europe, he has made all the rest subject to him;  and of what we call Asia he governs everything as far as the Indies, many of whose people are said to own his sway too, as well as the greater part of Africa; while in Europe he governs Thrace and Macedonia. All these he holds in subjection, and this is the reason that he alone has received the title of 'The Great King.' " 

"But I am not absolutely sure even on this point," replied Socrates, "whether he is king of any city or hamlet at all." 

"Have you alone," interjected the other, "never heard what all the world knows?" 

"Yes," he replied, "I do hear many people say just what you are saying—many, both Greeks and barbarians; but what keeps me from forming a definite opinion on the point I raise is this: I do not know, my good sir, whether he is placed in right and lawful authority over all these people and is a man of the stamp I have mentioned time and again. 

"If he is a man of good mind and heart, respects the law, cares for his subjects with an eye to their safety and welfare, and is, to begin with, happy and wise himself, as I have described him, and shares this happiness of his with others, not divorcing his own interest from that of his subjects, but rejoi­cing most and regarding himself as most prosperous when he sees his subjects prosperous too—then he is most power­ful and a king in very truth. 

"If, on the other hand, he loves pleasure and wealth, is overbearing and lawless, and is minded to exalt himself alone to the end that he may get the most wealth and enjoy the most and greatest pleasures, leading an idle and effortless life and looking upon his subjects one and all as but slaves and ministers to his own luxury; if he lacks even the quality of a good shepherd, who takes thought for the shelter and pasturing of his own flock, and, besides, keeps off wild beasts and guards it against thieves; nay, if he is the very first to plunder and destroy them and to grant the same privilege to others as though they were veritable spoil of the enemy—never should I style such a ruler either emperor or king. 

"Much rather should I call him a tyrant and oppressor, as Apollo once called the tyrant of Sicyon—yea, even though he had many tiaras, many scepters, and many obeyed his behests." 

Such was the sage's habitual message while he constantly incited to virtue and tried to make both rulers and subjects better.