The History Scrutineer

There ruled a tyrant, by the feared name of Dionysus. Horrendously cruel, utterly unjust, sadistic and vile, deep down the King lived in great fear that at any moment, any one of his countless enemies might take his life. 

Yet he possessed a life of luxury; his palace was glorious in its ostentatious wealth, sublime in its many beauties – ‘heavenly’ – perhaps. Radiant, dazzling women paraded his halls, exquisite food and drink were served at all hours, servants awaited his every word and command anxiously before darting away to fulfil whatever task, whim or fancy was thrown at them. Dionysus was drowning in wealth and material riches. 

Then one day, along came one of his few friends – Damocles, a weak, unassuming, excuse of a male who secretly lusted after the immense wealth of the King. 

This was known to the latter, who entertained the fool for friends were scarce and he was quite simply, harmless. 

Damocles, gazing across the scenes in the King’s palace, suddenly proclaimed (and with a not particularly subtle air of envy): “you have everything that any man could possibly want… how happy you must be, your eminence”. 

Smirking, Kind Dionysus retorted: “would you like to trade places with me?”

“That would be too much, Dear King… yet I do say, that if I were to have all you have for a single day no more – then I would be the happiest man alive!”

“Very well, Damocles… you shall have them”. 

The next day, Damocles was escorted to the palace by the King’s royal guard, entered and swiftly changed into extremely elegant robes after enjoying a sensual bathing awarded by the prettiest and youngest concubines of the King. He was flowered, perfumed and scented. He was led to the great throne. Seated. Held, smiled at, caressed. Nothing that he desired – was refused. Wine flowed. Music played. Fun and games commenced. He was entertained and dotted on without pause. Damocles stuffed himself, drank, joked, laughed, touched the women he wanted – they touched him back. He was indeed… the happiest man alive at that very moment. 

Yet then, all of sudden, and without his comprehension, something made him look upwards. So he did. He looked above him, as he reclined shamelessly across the throne. 

A mighty sword with its razor sharp point inches above his head – hung straight down at him – held by nothing more than a single horse’s hair…

Damocles gasped in sheer fright!

“The sword could fall at any second”, he realised. 

The concubines giggled as did the many servants. 

All pleasure had instantaneously left Damocles. 

His face turned sheet white, he trembled, sweated slightly and panicked beneath the dangling and entirely precarious sword. He then vomited for his frail stomach gave in. 

King Dionysus, who had been watching the whole spectacle from afar, reappeared from behind the scenes and enquired, coldly:

“What has happened, Damocles?” 

Mustering up all that he could to speak, he whimpered: “the sword… the sword”. 

“But you are the King, Damocles. Why should that trouble you?”

“It hangs over my head!” 

Damocles shrieked in horror. 

Kind Dionysus guffawed, shaking the halls almost with his uproarious laughter. 

“There hangs a sword over my head all day and all night, young Damocles. Death and misfortune always accompany me. They may take me at any moment. Any moment, at any point and I know not, when that shall be. I am a man of power and thus, a man besieged by problems, worries and danger.”

Damocles crawled away from the throne and muttered, “I can see that I was wrong Dear King, please… retake your throne and position. I was wrong to lust for them. I now see that the wealthy and powerful can possess far greater perils than a humble man might. Please, King Dionysus, allow me to return to my shack in the mountains”.

“Of course, Damocles. Farewell”. 

And with that, the two men returned to the places which fate had assigned them. 

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. 

“The Sword and Damocles”. A famous Greek myth with a moral to its story.