Dio Chrysostom, On Kingship 4.1

They tell us that once upon a time Alexander when not over busy met Diogenes,​who had an abundance of time on his hands. For the one was king of Macedonia and many other countries beside, while there was an exile from Sinope;​ and there are many who in speaking and writing of this encounter give no less admiration and credit to Alexander than to Diogenes because, although he was ruler over so many people and had greater power than any other man of his day, he did not disdain to converse with a poor man who had intelligence and the power of endurance. 

For all men without exception are naturally delighted when they see wisdom honored by the greatest power and might; hence they not only relate the facts in such cases but add extravagant embellishments of their own; nay more, they strip their wise men of all else, such as wealth, honors, and physical strength, so that the high regard in which they are held may appear to be due to their intelligence alone. And so I should like on this occasion to tell what in all likelihood was the nature of their conversation, since it happens too that I have nothing else that demands my attention.  

Now it should be explained that Alexander was by common report the most ambitious of men and the greatest lover of glory. He was anxious to leave his name the greatest among the Greeks and barbarians and longed to be honored, not only—as one might put it—by mankind the world over, but, if it were at all possible, by the birds of the air and the beasts of the mountains. 

Moreover, he looked down upon all other men and thought that no one was a dangerous rival in this matter—neither the Persian king nor the Scythian nor the Indian nor any man or city among the Greeks. For he perceived that they had all been well-nigh ruined in soul by luxury and idleness and were the slaves of money and pleasure. 

But as to Diogenes, when Alexander heard of the words which this man spoke and of the deeds which he did and how he bore his exile, though at times he despised the man for his poverty and shabbiness, quite naturally, as he himself was young and had been reared in royal luxury, yet often he would admire and envy the man for his courage and endurance, and especially for his great reputation, because all the Greeks knew and admired him for what he was, and no one else could match him in point of distinction. 

He himself needed his Macedonian phalanx, his Thessalian cavalry, Thracians, Paeonians, and many others if he was to go where he wished and get what he desired; but Diogenes went forth unattended in perfect safety by night as well as by day whithersoever he cared to go. 

Again, he himself required huge sums of gold and silver to carry out any of his projects; and what is more, if he expected to keep the Macedonians and the other Greeks submissive, must time and again curry the favor of their rulers and the general populace by words gifts; whereas Diogenes cajoled no men by flattery, but told everybody the truth and, even though he possessed not a single drachma, succeeded in doing as he pleased, failed in nothing he set before himself, was the only man who lived the life he considered the best and happiest, and would not have accepted Alexander's throne or the wealth of the Medes and Persians in exchange for his own poverty. 

Therefore Alexander, being nettled to think that anyone living so easy and care-free a life was going to surpass himself and in addition should be no less famous, and thinking perhaps too that he would receive some benefit from an interview with the man, had long desired to behold him and converse with him; and when he had come to Corinth and had received the Greek embassies and regulated the affairs of the allies as well, he told his attendants that he wished to have a little leisure and went off—I will not say to the court​ of Diogenes, for he had no court either great or small, nor house nor hearth of his own as the well-to‑do have, but he made the cities his home and used to live there in the public buildings and in the shrines, which are dedicated to the gods, and took for his hearth-stone the wide world, which after all is man's common hearth and nourisher. 

On that day it happened that Diogenes was all alone in the Craneion,​ for he had no pupils at all nor any such crowd about him as the sophists and flute-players and choral masters have. So the king came up to him as he sat there and greeted him, whereat the other looked up at him with terrible glare like that of a lion and ordered him to step aside a little, for Diogenes happened to be warming himself in the sun. 

Now Alexander was at once delighted with the man's boldness and composure in not being awestruck in his presence. For it is somehow natural for the courageous to love the courageous, while cowards eye them with misgiving and hate them as enemies, but welcome the base and like them. And so to the one class truth and frankness are the most agreeable things in the world, to the other, flattery and deceit. The latter lend a willing ear to those who in their intercourse seek to please, the former, to those who have regard for the truth. 

Then after a brief pause Diogenes asked the king who he was and what object he had in coming to him. "Was it," he said, "to take some of my property?" 

"Why, have you any property?" replied the other; "do you own anything that you might share with one?" 

"Much indeed," he replied, "and very valuable, in which I do not at all feel sure that you will ever be able to have a share. Yet it is not glaives or cauldrons or mixing-bowls or couches and tables such as Darius​ is reported by some writers to possess in Persia that I happen to own." 

"What," retorted the other, "do you not know Alexander the king?" 

"I hear many speak his name, to be sure," said he, "like so many jackdaws flitting about, but the man I know not, for I am not acquainted with his mind." 

"But now," came the answer, "you shall know his mind also, since I have come for the very purpose of letting you know me thoroughly and of seeing you." 

"Well, it would be hard for you to see me," rejoined the other, "just as it is for men with weak eyes to see the light. But tell me this: are you the Alexander whom they call a bastard?" 

At this the king flushed and showed anger, but he controlled himself and regretted that he had deigned to enter into conversation with a man who was both rude and an impostor, as he thought. 

Diogenes, however, marking his embarrassment, would fain change his throw just like men playing at dice. 

So when the king said, "What gave you the idea of calling me a bastard?" he replied, "What gave it? Why, I hear that your own mother says this of you. Or is it not Olympias​ who said that Philip is not your father, as it happens, but a dragon or Ammon or some god or other or demigod or wild animal? And yet in that case you would certainly be a bastard." 

IMAGE: Gaspar de Crayer, Alexander and Diogenes (c. 1630)