24
I ruled over a large and fertile country, Mikyllos, fit to rank with the best for its population and the beauty of its cities. It was traversed by navigable rivers, and had a seaboard with good harbors. I had a large army, with welltrained cavalry, a considerable body-guard, a navy, untold treasure, quantities of gold plate, and all the rest of the royal mise en scène in profusion and excess. Whenever I went abroad the crowd saluted me, believing they beheld a god, and thronged on each others' heels to get sight of me; some would even mount the roofs and count it a great thing to have a clear view of my chariot, my robes, my outriders, and my escort. But I, conscious of my sorrows and agonies, made allowance for their ignorance and pitied my own case, which I compared with the colossal statues that Pheidias or Myron or Praxiteles wrought. Each of these, too, if you look at it from the outside, is a Poseidon or a Zeus of perfect beauty, made in gold or ivory, grasping the thunderbolt or the lightning or the trident in his right hand; but if you stoop and look inside you will see bars and bolts and nails piercing from side to side, and timbers and wedges and pitch and clay and a great many other things just as unsightly which are hidden there, to say nothing of the crowds of rats and mice that sometimes colonize them. Well, royalty is much like this.
25
But you have not told me what the clay and bolts and bars of royalty are, nor the nature of that mass of unsightly things. To be stared at when you drive out, and to rule so many people, and to be saluted like a god, may justly be likened to the great statue, for they are both well-nigh divine. But tell me now, what is inside the colossus?
