Isocrates reports that Evagoras’ own great soul was enough to instill in the Persian king, Artaxerxes II, the fear that he might be overthrown (59). Plutarch reports that Alexander takes a mortal risk to tame the mighty Bucephalus and in doing so wins praise from his father, who says that he should “seek a kingdom greater than Macedonia” (Life of Alexander 6). Not only does Xenophon’s Cyrus show a similar passion for horses, but he has an outsized appetite for hunting, quickly bringing down all the creatures in his grandfather’s zoo and appealing for the opportunity to hunt all the animals in existence, as though they were {27|28} “bred for him” (Cyropaedia 1.4.5). Both Cyrus and Alexander are portrayed as young and future conquerors who pursue the highest honor by taking greater risks than those around them think prudent or necessary. This level of successful risk-taking forms the basis of their claim to greater sovereignty. Both flirt with kingship from a very young age.

Here Jason takes pity on an old woman and helps her cross the flooding river, apparently at some risk to himself. Cyrus, by contrast, is seldom shown risking himself for the unfortunate or those of a lower class, unless it is a gesture of gratitude, whereby he hopes to ensure their future services. Instead he competes to help his uncle, Cyaxares, and his grandfather, Astyages, the two most powerful men in Media, and feels especial delight in winning their favor (1.3.12). The closest comparison between his and Jason’s behavior is in Cyrus’ treatment of Pantheia after she commits suicide over the body of her husband, Abradatas, though this treatment involves no personal risk. Cyrus pities Pantheia, sheds copious tears, and honors both her and her husband with a lavish funeral (7.3.15–16). In fact, the Greek words describing Jason’s feeling for Hera and Cyrus’ for Pantheia are similar (cf. ὀλοφύρατο, κατολοφυράμενος). We could imagine that Cyrus honors Pantheia for his own political advantage; perhaps he wanted a reputation as someone who took care of his friends. Xenophon does not make any effort to suggest this, however. His Cyrus sheds real tears.

Yet we might believe that Cyrus’ pleasure in helping others derives more from the anticipation of some honor or security for himself than from an immediate delight in causing another person to prosper (believing that happy followers will praise and protect their leaders). For example, Cyaxares admits in a {38|39} moment of envy that he would take greater pleasure in giving gifts to Cyrus than in receiving them from him because in failing to give he has lost face in front of his comrades (5.5.27.1). Thus the pleasure of giving need not be intrinsic; it may be felt by someone whose more basic pleasure lies in feeling superior.

It is thus conceivable that Xenophon meant to fashion his Cyrus with similar gestures, making him into someone who succeeds at winning over others by pretending sympathy and rehearsing all the smiles, handshakes, toasts, and benefactions that can charm others without any sincere good will on the part of the performer. It is unlikely, however, given our direct window into Cyrus’ emotional states, that Xenophon means to portray him with such pretenses.

Isocrates flatters the fourteen-year-old Alexander in a similar way when he praises him as “philanthropic” and a lover of Athens (To Alexander 2.1). Cyrus seems to be assuming the analogy between divine and leaderly philanthrôpia when he surrounds himself with pious friends (theosebeis), thinking that they would be less likely to commit crimes against one another or against him, “for he considered himself their benefactor” (8.1.25.8; cf. 3.3.4.3). The reasoning seems to be that just as Cyrus sees himself as a benefactor like the gods, he seeks to surround himself with those who knew how to revere such munificence.