SWORD OF DAMOCLES by: James Baldwin,
The Book of Virtues
There once was a king named
Dionysius who ruled in Syracuse, the richest city in Sicily. He
lived in a fine palace where there were many beautiful and costly things, and
he was waited upon by a host of servants who were always ready to do his
bidding.
Naturally, because Dionysius had so
much wealth and power, there were many in Syracuse who envied his good fortune.
Damocles was one of these. He was one of Dionysius's best friends, and he was
always saying to him, "How lucky you are! You have everything anyone could
wish for. You must be the happiest man in the world."
One day Dionysius grew tired of hearing
such talk. "Come now," he said, "do you really think I'm happier
than everyone else?"
"But of course you are,"
Damocles replied. "Look at the great treasures you possess, and the power
you hold. You have not a single worry in the world. How could life be any
better?"
"Perhaps you would like to change
places with me," said Dionysius.
"Oh, I would never dream of
that," said Damocles. "But if I could only have your riches and your
pleasures for one day, I should never want any greater happiness."
"Very well. Trade places with me
for just one day, and you shall have them."
And so, the next day, Damocles was led
to the palace, and all the servants were instructed to treat him as their
master. They dressed him in royal robes, and placed on his head a crown of
gold. He sat down at a table in the banquet hall, and rich foods were
set before him. Nothing was wanting that could give him pleasure. There were
costly wines, and beautiful flowers, and rare perfumes, and delightful music.
He rested himself among soft cushions, and felt he was the happiest man in all
the world.
"Ah, this is the life," he
sighed to Dionysius, who sat at the other end of the long table. "I've
never enjoyed myself so much."
And as he raised a cup to his lips, he
lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. What was that dangling above him, with its
point almost touching his head?
Damocles stiffened. The smile faded
from his lips, and his face turned ashy pale. His hands trembled. He wanted no
more food, no more wine, no more music. He only wanted to be out of the palace,
far away, he cared no where. For directly above his head hung a sword, held to
the ceiling by only a single horsehair. Its sharp blade glittered as it pointed
right between his eyes. He started to jump up and run, but stopped himself,
frightened that any sudden move might snap the thin thread and bring the sword
down. He sat frozen to his chair.
"What is the matter, my
friend?" Dionysius asked. "You seem to have lost your appetite."
"That sword! That sword!"
whispered Damocles. "Don't you see it?"
"Of course I see it," said
Dionysius. "I see it every day. It always hangs over my head, and there is
always the chance someone or something may cut the slim thread. Perhaps one of
my own advisors will grow jealous of my power and try to kill me. Or someone
may spread lies about me, to turn people against me. It may be that a
neighboring kingdom will send an army to seize this throne. Or I might make an
unwise decision that will bring my downfall. If you want to be a leader, you
must be willing to accept these risks. They come with the power, you see."
"Yes, I do see," said
Damocles. "I see now that I was mistaken, and that you have much to think
about besides your riches and fame. Please take your place, and let me go back
to my own house."
And as long as he lived, Damocles never
again wanted to change places, even for a moment, with the king.
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