Sovereignty Cannot Keep You Safe

"But can kingdoms and the friendship of kings make a man powerful? Why not—when their happiness lasts forever? Yet antiquity is full of examples, and the present age too, of kings who exchanged happiness for calamity. O splendid power, found not even effective enough for its own preservation!

"But if this power of kingdoms is the author of happiness, would it not, if it were lacking in some part, lessen happiness and bring in misery? But however widely human empires may stretch, many peoples must necessarily be left over whom each king does not rule. And in just the part where the power that makes people happy stops, there powerlessness creeps in, which makes them miserable. So in this way kings must necessarily have a greater share of misery.

"A tyrant who had learned the dangers of his lot likened the fears of kingship to the terror of a sword hanging over one's head. What sort of power, then, is this, which cannot drive off the bites of anxiety, cannot avoid the stings of dread? Such men would themselves wish to have lived secure, but they cannot—and then they boast of their power. Do you think a man powerful whom you see wanting what he cannot do? Do you think powerful one who surrounds his flanks with bodyguards, who fears more than those he terrifies, who, in order to seem powerful, is placed in the hand of his servants?

"And why should I discuss the friends of kings, when I show that kingdoms themselves are full of so much weakness? Indeed, royal power often, while standing, often having fallen, lays them low. Nero forced Seneca, his familiar friend and teacher, to choose the manner of his death; Antoninus exposed Papinian, long powerful among the courtiers, to the swords of the soldiers. And yet both wished to renounce their power—Seneca even tried to hand over his wealth to Nero and to withdraw into leisure; but as their very mass dragged them toward ruin, neither accomplished what he wished.

"What sort of power, then, is this, which those who have it dread, which, when you wish to have it, you are not safe, and which, when you long to set it down, you cannot avoid? Are friends a protection, friends whom not virtue but fortune brings together? But the one whom good fortune has made a friend, misfortune will make an enemy. And what plague is more effective at harming than an enemy who is a familiar friend?"

'Well, then, does sovereignty and the intimacy of kings prove able to confer power? Why, surely does not the happiness of kings endure for ever? And yet antiquity is full of examples, and these days also, of kings whose happiness has turned into calamity. How glorious a power, which is not even found effectual for its own preservation! But if happiness has its source in sovereign power, is not happiness diminished, and misery inflicted in its stead, in so far as that power falls short of completeness? Yet, however widely human sovereignty be extended, there must still be more peoples left, over whom each several king holds no sway. Now, at whatever point the power on which happiness depends ceases, here powerlessness steals in and makes wretchedness; so, by this way of reckoning, there must needs be a balance of wretchedness in the lot of the king. The tyrant who had made trial of the perils of his condition figured the fears that haunt a throne under the image of a sword hanging over a man's head.^G What sort of power, then, is this which cannot drive away the gnawings of anxiety, or shun the stings of terror? Fain would they themselves have lived secure, but they cannot; then they boast about their power! Dost thou count him to possess power whom thou seest to wish what he cannot bring to pass? Dost thou count him to possess power who encompasses himself with a body-guard, who fears those he terrifies more than they fear him, who, to keep up the semblance of power, is himself at the mercy of his slaves? Need I say anything of the friends of kings, when I show royal dominion itself so utterly and miserably weak—why ofttimes the royal power in its plenitude brings them low, ofttimes involves them in its fall? Nero drove his friend and preceptor, Seneca, to the choice of the manner of his death. Antoninus exposed Papinianus, who was long powerful at court, to the swords of the soldiery. Yet each of these was willing to renounce his power. Seneca tried to surrender his wealth also to Nero, and go into retirement; but neither achieved his purpose. When they tottered, their very greatness dragged them down. What manner of thing, then, is this power which keeps men in fear while they possess it—which when thou art fain to keep, thou art not safe, and when thou desirest to lay it aside thou canst not rid thyself of? Are friends any protection who have been attached by fortune, not by virtue? Nay; him whom good fortune has made a friend, ill fortune will make an enemy. And what plague is more effectual to do hurt than a foe of one's own household?'