THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES

There was once a king named Dionysius. He was so unjust and cruel that he earned the name of tyrant. He knew that almost everyone despised him, and he lived in perpetual dread that some foe might end his life. Yet he was exceedingly rich and dwelt in a splendid palace filled with magnificent and costly things, attended by a multitude of servants always ready to carry out his wishes.

One day a friend of his, Damocles, exclaimed,"How happy you must be! You possess everything a man could wish.""Perhaps you would like to exchange places with me," replied the tyrant."No, not that, O king," said Damocles;"but I think that, if I could only have your wealth and your pleasures for one day, I should not desire any greater happiness.""Very well," said the tyrant."You shall have them."

So, the next day, Damocles was led into the palace, and all the servants were instructed to treat him as their master. He sat at a table in the banquet hall, and abundant foods were laid before him. Nothing was spared that could give him pleasure: costly wines, beautiful flowers, rare perfumes, and delightful music. He rested on soft cushions and believed himself the happiest man in the world.

Then he raised his eyes to the ceiling. What was that thing hanging above him, its point almost brushing his head? A sword, sharp and gleaming, suspended by a single horse-hair. What if the hair should snap? Danger lurked at every moment.

A pallor spread over his face; his lips failed to smile and his hands trembled. He could not finish his food; he could not drink more wine; the music no longer pleased him. He longed to be outside the palace, far away from the gilded splendor.

"What is the matter?" said the tyrant."That sword! that sword!" cried Damocles, so frightened that he dared not move."Yes," said Dionysius,"I know there is a sword above your head, and that it may fall at any moment. But why should that trouble you? I have a sword over my head all the time. I am in constant dread lest something may cause me to lose my life.""Let me go back to my old home in the poor little cottage among the mountains." And so long as he lived, he never again wished to be rich, or to exchange places, even for a moment, with the king.