You sit before a mighty king, who's lavishes are abundant.
Yet he sits with a scowl on his face, not enjoying the many pleasures to have.
You ask him as you sit, woman in arm, "Why is it that you do not take in your spoils, and indulge your self ?"
He turns to face you with his face becoming less stern, he shows you a rope, that dangles beside his throne. And says, "A king is always aware, for when he is not death will surely strike."
You laugh and say, "That cannot be, for you have many a guard about to protect you my king !"
You lean back as to stretch your drunken limbs, and see the king pull the cord.
From the ceiling plummets a sword, and in fear you do not move.
You close your eyes in fear of your imminent demise.
But, nothing happens, you slowly open you eyes.
There dangling just above your face, is the sword.
And it is held up by only a single thread.
The king then says, "This is the life of a king, your very life hangs by but a single thread."
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The Chronicles of Nikolaos
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