The Project Gutenberg Etext of Plutarch's Lives, by A.H. Clough

Also known as "Parallel Lives", written in Greek ~100 A.D.

Includes 50 biographies, 23 Greek, 23 Roman, 2 others.

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Plutarch's Lives

Edited by A.H. Clough

October, 1996  [Etext #674]

The Project Gutenberg Etext of Plutarch's Lives, by A.H. Clough

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PLUTARCH'S LIVES

By A. H. Clough

CONTENTS

THESEUS

ROMULUS

COMPARISON OF ROMULUS WITH THESEUS

LYCURGUS

NUMA POMPILIUS

COMPARISON OF NUMA WITH LYCURGUS

SOLON

POPLICOLA

COMPARISON OF POPLICOLA WITH SOLON

THEMISTOCLES

CAMILLUS

PERICLES

FABIUS

COMPARISON OF PERICLES WITH FABIUS

ALCIBIADES

CORIOLANUS

COMPARISON OF ALCIBIADES WITH CORIOLANUS

TIMOLEON

AEMILIUS PAULUS

COMPARISON OF TIMOLEON WITH AEMILIUS PAULUS

PELOPIDAS

MARCELLUS

COMPARISION OF PELOPIDAS WITH MARCELLUS

ARISTIDES

MARCUS CATO

COMPARISON OF ARISTIDES WITH MARCUS CATO.

PHILOPOEMEN

FLAMININUS

COMPARISON OF PHILOPOEMEN WITH FLAMININUS

PYRRHUS

CAIUS MARIUS

LYSANDER

SYLLA

COMPARISON OF LYSANDER WITH SYLLA

CIMON

LUCULLUS

COMPARISON OF LUCULLUS WITH CIMON

NICIAS

CRASSUS

COMPARISON OF CRASSUS WITH NICIAS

SERTORIUS

EUMENES

COMPARISON OF SERTORIUS WITH EUMENES

AGESILAUS

POMPEY

COMPARISON OF POMPEY AND AGESILAUS

ALEXANDER

CAESAR

PHOCION

CATO THE YOUNGER

AGIS

CLEOMENES

TIBERIUS GRACCHUS

CAIUS GRACCHUS

COMPARISON OF TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS WITH AGIS AND CLEOMENES

DEMOSTHENES

CICERO

COMPARISON OF DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO

DEMETRIUS

ANTONY

COMPARISON OF DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY

DION

MARCUS BRUTUS

COMPARISON OF DION AND BRUTUS

ARATUS

ARTAXERXES

GALBA

OTHO

THESEUS

As geographers, Sosius, crowd into the edges of their maps parts of the

world which they do not know about, adding notes in the margin to the

effect, that beyond this lies nothing but sandy deserts full of wild

beasts, unapproachable bogs, Scythian ice, or a frozen sea, so, in this

work of mine, in which I have compared the lives of the greatest men

with one another, after passing through those periods which probable

reasoning can reach to and real history find a footing in, I might very

well say of those that are farther off, Beyond this there is nothing but

prodigies and fictions, the only inhabitants are the poets and inventors

of fables; there is no credit, or certainty any farther.  Yet, after

publishing an account of Lycurgus the lawgiver and Numa the king, I

thought I might, not without reason, ascend as high as to Romulus, being

brought by my history so near to his time.

Considering therefore with myself

Whom shall I set so great a man to face?

Or whom oppose?  who's equal to the place?

(as Aeschylus expresses it), I found none so fit as him that peopled the

beautiful and far-famed city of Athens, to be set in opposition with the

father of the invincible and renowned city of Rome.  Let us hope that

Fable may, in what shall follow, so submit to the purifying processes of

Reason as to take the character of exact history.  In any case, however,

where it shall be found contumaciously slighting credibility, and

refusing to be reduced to anything like probable fact, we shall beg

that we may meet with candid readers, and such as will receive with

indulgence the stories of antiquity.

Theseus seemed to me to resemble Romulus in many particulars.  Both of

them, born out of wedlock and of uncertain parentage, had the repute of

being sprung from the gods.

Both warriors; that by all the world's allowed.

Both of them united with strength of body an equal vigor mind; and of

the two most famous cities of the world the one built Rome, and the

other made Athens be inhabited.  Both stand charged with the rape of

women; neither of them could avoid domestic misfortunes nor jealousy at

home; but towards the close of their lives are both of them said to have

incurred great odium with their countrymen, if, that is, we may take the

stories least like poetry as our guide to the truth.

The lineage of Theseus, by his father's side, ascends as high as to

Erechtheus and the first inhabitants of Attica.  By his mother's side he

was descended of Pelops.  For Pelops was the most powerful of all the

kings of Peloponnesus, not so much by the greatness of his riches as the

multitude of his children, having married many daughters to chief men,

and put many sons in places of command in the towns round about him.

One of whom named Pittheus, grandfather to Theseus, was governor of the

small city of the Troezenians, and had the repute of a man of the

greatest knowledge and wisdom of his time; which then, it seems,

consisted chiefly in grave maxims, such as the poet Hesiod got his great

fame by, in his book of Works and Days.  And, indeed, among these is one

that they ascribe to Pittheus,—

Unto a friend suffice

A stipulated price;

which, also, Aristotle mentions.  And Euripides, by calling Hippolytus "

scholar of the holy Pittheus," shows the opinion that the world had of

him.

Aegeus, being desirous of children, and consulting the oracle of Delphi,

received the celebrated answer which forbade him the company of any

woman before his return to Athens.  But the oracle being so obscure as

not to satisfy him that he was clearly forbid this, he went to Troezen,

and communicated to Pittheus the voice of the god,

which was in this manner,—

Loose not the wine-skin foot, thou chief of men,

Until to Athens thou art come again.

Pittheus, therefore, taking advantage from the obscurity of the oracle,

prevailed upon him, it is uncertain whether by persuasion or deceit, to

lie with his daughter Aethra.  Aegeus afterwards, knowing her whom he

had lain with to be Pittheus's daughter, and suspecting her to be with

child by him, left a sword and a pair of shoes, hiding them under a

great stone that had a hollow in it exactly fitting them; and went away

making her only privy to it, and commanding her, if she brought forth a

son who, when he came to man's estate, should be able to lift up the

stone and take away what he had left there, she should send him away to

him with those things with all secrecy, and with injunctions to him as

much as possible to conceal his journey from every one; for he greatly

feared the Pallantidae, who were continually mutinying against him, and

despised him for his want of children, they themselves being fifty

brothers, all sons of Pallas.

When Aethra was delivered of a son, some say that he was immediately

named Theseus, from the tokens which his father had put  under the

stone; others that he received his name afterwards at Athens, when

Aegeus acknowledged him for his son.  He was brought up under his

grandfather Pittheus, and had a tutor and attendant set over him named

Connidas, to whom the Athenians, even to this time, the day before the

feast that is dedicated to Theseus, sacrifice a ram, giving this honor

to his memory upon much juster grounds than to Silanio and Parrhasius,

for making pictures and statues of Theseus.  There being then a custom

for the Grecian youth, upon their first coming to man's estate, to go to

Delphi and offer first-fruits of their hair to the god, Theseus also

went thither, and a place there to this day is yet named Thesea, as it

is said, from him.  He clipped only the fore part of his head, as Homer

says the Abantes did.%  And this sort of tonsure was from him named

Theseis.  The Abantes first used it, not in imitation of the Arabians,

as some imagine, nor of the Mysians, but because they were a warlike

people, and used to close fighting, and above all other nations

accustomed to engage hand to hand; as Archilochus testifies

in these verses: —

Slings shall not whirl, nor many arrows fly,

When on the plain the battle joins; but swords,

Man against man, the deadly conflict try,

As is the practice of Euboea's lords

Skilled with the spear.—

Therefore that they might not give their enemies a hold by their hair,

they cut it in this manner.  They write also that this was the reason

why Alexander gave command to his captains that all the beards of the

Macedonians should be shaved, as being the readiest hold for an enemy.

Aethra for some time concealed the true parentage of Theseus, and a

report was given out by Pittheus that he was begotten by Neptune; for

the Troezenians pay Neptune the highest veneration.  He is their tutelar

god, to him they offer all their first-fruits, and in his honor stamp

their money with a trident.

Theseus displaying not only great strength of body, but equal bravery,

and a quickness alike and force of understanding, his mother Aethra,

conducting him to the stone, and informing him who was his true father,

commanded him to take from thence the tokens that Aegeus had left, and

to sail to Athens.  He without any difficulty set himself to the stone

and lifted it up; but refused to take his journey by sea, though it was

much the safer way, and though his mother and grandfather begged him to

do so.  For it was at that time very dangerous to go by land on the road

to Athens, no part of it being free from robbers and murderers.  That

age produced a sort of men, in force of hand, and swiftness of foot, and

strength of body, excelling the ordinary rate, and wholly incapable of

fatigue; making use, however, of these gifts of nature to no good or

profitable purpose for mankind, but rejoicing and priding themselves in

insolence, and taking the benefit of their superior strength in the

exercise of inhumanity and cruelty, and in seizing, forcing, and

committing all manner of outrages upon every thing that fell into their

hands; all respect for others, all justice, they thought, all equity and

humanity, though naturally lauded by common people, either out of want

of courage to commit injuries or fear to receive them, yet no way

concerned those who were strong enough to win for themselves.  Some of

these, Hercules destroyed and cut off in his passage through these

countries, but some, escaping his notice while he was passing by, fled

and hid themselves, or else were spared by him in contempt of their

abject submission; and after that Hercules fell into misfortune, and,

having slain Iphitus, retired to Lydia, and for a long time was there

slave to Omphale, a punishment which he had imposed upon himself for the

murder, then, indeed, Lydia enjoyed high peace and security, but in

Greece and the countries about it the like villanies again revived and

broke out, there being none to repress or chastise them.  It was

therefore a very hazardous journey to travel by land from Athens to

Peloponnesus; and Pittheus, giving him an exact account of each of these

robbers and villains, their strength, and the cruelty they used to all

strangers, tried to persuade Theseus to go by sea.  But he, it seems,

had long since been secretly fired by the glory of Hercules, held him in

the highest estimation, and was never more satisfied than in listening

to any that gave an account of him; especially those that had seen him,

or had been present at any action or saying of his.  So that he was

altogether in the same state of feeling as, in after ages, Themistocles

was, when he said that he could not sleep for the trophy of Miltiades;

entertaining such admiration for the virtue of Hercules, that in the

night his dreams were all of that hero's actions.  and in the day a

continual emulation stirred him up to perform the like.  Besides, they

were related, being born of cousins-german.  For Aethra was daughter of

Pittheus, and Alcmena of Lysidice; and Lysidice and Pittheus were brother

and sister, children of Hippodamia and Pelops.  He thought it therefore a

dishonorable thing, and not to be endured, that Hercules should go out

everywhere, and purge both land and sea from wicked men, and he himself

should fly from the like adventures that actually came in his way;

disgracing his reputed father by a mean flight by sea, and not showing

his true one as good evidence of the greatness of his birth by noble and

worthy actions, as by the tokens that he brought with him,

the shoes and the sword.

With this mind and these thoughts, he set forward with a design to do

injury to nobody, but to repel and revenge himself of all those that

should offer any.  And first of all, in a set combat, he slew

Periphetes, in the neighborhood of Epidaurus, who used a club for his

arms, and from thence had the name of Corynetes, or the club-bearer; who

seized upon him, and forbade him to go forward in his journey.  Being

pleased with the club, he took it, and made it his weapon, continuing to

use it as Hercules did the lion's skin, on whose shoulders that served

to prove how huge a beast he had killed; and to the same end Theseus

carried about him this club; overcome indeed by him,

but now, in his hands, invincible.

Passing on further towards the Isthmus of Peloponnesus, he slew Sinnis,

often surnamed the Bender of Pines, after the same manner in which he

himself had destroyed many others before.  And this he did without

having either practiced or ever learnt the art of bending these trees,

to show that natural strength is above all art.  This Sinnis had a

daughter of remarkable beauty and stature, called Perigune, who, when

her father was killed, fled, and was sought after everywhere by Theseus;

and coming into a place overgrown with brushwood shrubs, and asparagus-

thorn, there, in a childlike, innocent manner, prayed and begged them,

as if they understood her, to give her shelter, with vows that if she

escaped she would never cut them down nor burn them.  But Theseus

calling upon her, and giving her his promise that he would use her with

respect, and offer her no injury, she came forth, and in due time bore

him a son, named Melanippus; but afterwards was married to Deioneus, the

son of Eurytus, the Oechalian, Theseus himself giving her to him.

Ioxus, the son of this Melanippus who was born to Theseus, accompanied

Ornytus in the colony that he carried with him into Caria, whence it is

a family usage amongst the people called Ioxids, both male and female,

never to burn either shrubs or asparagus-thorn,

but to respect and honor them.

The Crommyonian sow, which they called Phaea, was a savage and

formidable wild beast, by no means an enemy to be despised.  Theseus

killed her, going out of his way on purpose to meet and engage her, so

that he might not seem to perform all his great exploits out of mere

necessity ; being also of opinion that it was the part of a brave man to

chastise villainous and wicked men when attacked by them, but to seek

out and overcome the more noble wild beasts.  Others relate that Phaea

was a woman, a robber full of cruelty and lust, that lived in Crommyon,

and had the name of Sow given her from the foulness of her life and

manners, and afterwards was killed by Theseus.  He slew also Sciron,

upon the borders of Megara, casting him down from the rocks, being, as

most report, a notorious robber of all passengers, and, as others add,

accustomed, out of insolence and wantonness, to stretch forth his feet

to strangers, commanding them to wash them, and then while they did it,

with a kick to send them down the rock into the sea.  The writers of

Megara, however, in contradiction to the received report, and, as

Simonides expresses it, "fighting with all antiquity," contend that

Sciron was neither a robber nor doer of violence, but a punisher of all

such, and the relative and friend of good and just men; for Aeacus, they

say, was ever esteemed a man of the greatest sanctity of all the Greeks;

and Cychreus, the Salaminian, was honored at Athens with divine worship;

and the virtues of Peleus and Telamon were not unknown to any one.  Now

Sciron was son-in-law to Cychreus, father-in-law to Aeacus, and

grandfather to Peleus and Telamon, who were both of them sons of Endeis,

the daughter of Sciron and Chariclo; it was not probable, therefore,

that the best of men should make these alliances with one who was worst,

giving and receiving mutually what was of greatest value and most dear

to them.  Theseus, by their account, did not slay Sciron in his first

journey to Athens, but afterwards, when he took Eleusis, a city of the

Megarians, having circumvented Diocles, the governor.  Such are the

contradictions in this story.  In Eleusis he killed Cercyon, the

Arcadian, in a wrestling match.  And going on a little farther, in

Erineus, he slew Damastes, otherwise called Procrustes, forcing his body

to the size of his own bed, as he himself was used to do with all

strangers; this he did in imitation of Hercules, who always returned

upon his assailants the same sort of violence that they offered to him;

sacrificed Busiris, killed Antaeus in wrestling, and Cycnus in single

combat, and Termerus by breaking his skull in pieces (whence, they say,

comes the proverb of "a Termerian mischief"), for it seems Termerus

killed passengers that he met, by running with his head against them.

And so also Theseus proceeded in the punishment of evil men, who

underwent the same violence from him which they had inflicted upon

others, justly suffering after the manner of their own injustice.

As he went forward on his journey, and was come as far as the river

Cephisus, some of the race of the Phytalidae met him and saluted him,

and, upon his desire to use the purifications, then in custom, they

performed them with all the usual ceremonies, and, having offered

propitiatory sacrifices to the gods, invited him and entertained him at

their house, a kindness which, in all his journey hitherto,

he had not met.

On the eighth day of Cronius, now called Hecatombaeon, he arrived at

Athens, where he found the public affairs full of all confusion, and

divided into parties and factions, Aegeus also, and his whole private

family, laboring under the same distemper; for Medea, having fled from

Corinth, and promised Aegeus to make him, by her art, capable of having

children, was living with him.  She first was aware of Theseus, whom as

yet Aegeus did not know, and he being in years, full of jealousies and

suspicions, and fearing every thing by reason of the faction that was

then in the city, she easily persuaded him to kill him by poison at a

banquet, to which he was to be invited as a stranger.  He, coming to the

entertainment, thought it not fit to discover himself at once, but,

willing to give his father the occasion of first finding him out, the

meat being on the table, he drew his sword as if he designed to cut with

it; Aegeus, at once recognizing the token, threw down the cup of poison,

and, questioning his son, embraced him, and, having gathered together

all his citizens, owned him publicly before them, who, on their part,

received him gladly for the fame of his greatness and bravery; and it is

said, that when the cup fell, the poison was spilt there where now is

the enclosed space in the Delphinium; for in that place stood Aegeus's

house, and the figure of Mercury on the east side of the temple is

called the Mercury of Aegeus's gate.

The sons of Pallas, who before were quiet, upon expectation of

recovering the kingdom after Aegeus's death, who was without issue, as

soon as Theseus appeared and was acknowledged the successor, highly

resenting that Aegeus first, an adopted son only of Pandion, and not at

all related to the family of Erechtheus, should be holding the kingdom,

and that after him, Theseus, a visitor and stranger, should be destined

to succeed to it, broke out into open war.  And, dividing themselves

into two companies, one part of them marched openly from Sphettus, with

their father, against the city, the other, hiding themselves in the

village of Gargettus, lay in ambush, with a design to set upon the enemy

on both sides.  They had with them a crier of the township of Agnus,

named Leos, who discovered to Theseus all the designs of the Pallantidae

He immediately fell upon those that lay in ambuscade, and cut them all

off; upon tidings of which Pallas and his company fled

and were dispersed.

From hence they say is derived the custom among the people of the

township of Pallene to have no marriages or any alliance with the people

of Agnus, nor to suffer the criers to pronounce in their proclamations

the words used in all other parts of the country, Acouete Leoi (Hear ye

people), hating the very sound of Leo, because of the treason of Leos.

Theseus, longing to be in action, and desirous also to make himself

popular, left Athens to fight with the bull of Marathon, which did no

small mischief to the inhabitants of Tetrapolis.  And having overcome

it, he brought it alive in triumph through the city, and afterwards

sacrificed it to the Delphinian Apollo.  The story of Hecale, also, of

her receiving and entertaining Theseus in this expedition, seems to be

not altogether void of truth; for the townships round about, meeting

upon a certain day, used to offer a sacrifice, which they called

Hecalesia, to Jupiter Hecaleius, and to pay honor to Hecale, whom, by a

diminutive name, they called Hecalene, because she, while entertaining

Theseus, who was quite a youth, addressed him, as old people do, with

similar endearing diminutives; and having made a vow to Jupiter for him

as he was going to the fight, that, if he returned in safety, she would

offer sacrifices in thanks of it, and dying before he came back, she had

these honors given her by way of return for her hospitality, by the

command of Theseus, as Philochorus tells us.

Not long after arrived the third time from Crete the collectors of the

tribute which the Athenians paid them upon the following occasion.

Androgeus having been treacherously murdered in the confines of Attica,

not only Minos, his father, put the Athenians to extreme distress by a

perpetual war, but the gods also laid waste their country both famine

and pestilence lay heavy upon them, and even their rivers were dried up.

Being told by the oracle that, if they appeased and reconciled Minos,

the anger of the gods would cease and they should enjoy rest from the

miseries they labored under, they sent heralds, and with much

supplication were at last reconciled, entering into an agreement to send

to Crete every nine years a tribute of seven young men and as many

virgins, as most writers agree in stating; and the most poetical story

adds, that the Minotaur destroyed them, or that, wandering in the

labyrinth, and finding no possible means of getting out, they miserably

ended their lives there; and that this Minotaur was

(as Euripides hath it)

A mingled form, where two strange shapes combined,

And different natures, bull and man, were joined.

But Philochorus says that the Cretans will by no means allow the truth

of this, but say that the labyrinth was only an ordinary prison, having

no other bad quality but that it secured the prisoners from escaping,

and that Minos, having instituted games in honor of Androgeus, gave, as

a reward to the victors, these youths, who in the mean time were kept in

the labyrinth; and that the first that overcame in those games was one

of the greatest power and command among them, named Taurus, a man of no

merciful or gentle disposition, who treated the Athenians that were made

his prize in a proud and cruel manner.  Also Aristotle himself, in the

account that he gives of the form of government of the Bottiaeans, is

manifestly of opinion that the youths were not slain by Minos, but spent

the remainder of their days in slavery in Crete; that the Cretans, in

former times, to acquit themselves of an ancient vow which they had

made, were used to send an offering of the first-fruits of their men to

Delphi, and that some descendants of these Athenian slaves were mingled

with them and sent amongst them, and, unable to get their living there,

removed from thence, first into Italy, and settled about Japygia; from

thence again, that they removed to Thrace, and were named Bottiaeans

and that this is the reason why, in a certain sacrifice, the Bottiaean

girls sing a hymn beginning Let us go to Athens.  This may show us how

dangerous a thing it is to incur the hostility of a city that is

mistress of eloquence and song.  For Minos was always ill spoken of, and

represented ever as a very wicked man, in the Athenian theaters; neither

did Hesiod avail him by calling him "the most royal Minos," nor Homer,

who styles him "Jupiter's familiar friend;" the tragedians got the

better, and from the vantage ground of the stage showered down obloquy

upon him, as a man of cruelty and violence; whereas, in fact, he appears

to have been a king and a lawgiver, and Rhadamanthus a judge under him,

administering the statutes that he ordained.

Now when the time of the third tribute was come, and the fathers who had

any young men for their sons were to proceed by lot to the choice of

those that were to be sent, there arose fresh discontents and

accusations against Aegeus among the people, who were full of grief and

indignation that he, who was the cause of all their miseries, was the

only person exempt from the punishment; adopting and settling his

kingdom upon a bastard and foreign son, he took no thought, they said,

of their destitution and loss, not of bastards, but lawful children.

These things sensibly affected Theseus, who, thinking it but just not to

disregard, but rather partake of, the sufferings of his fellow citizens,

offered himself for one without any lot.  All else were struck with

admiration for the nobleness and with love for the goodness of the act;

and Aegeus, after prayers and entreaties, finding him inflexible and not

to be persuaded, proceeded to the choosing of the rest by lot.

Hellanicus, however, tells us that the Athenians did not send the young

men and virgins by lot, but that Minos himself used to come and make his

own choice, and pitched upon Theseus before all others; according to the

conditions agreed upon between them, namely, that the Athenians should

furnish them with a ship, and that the young men that were to sail with

him should carry no weapon of war; but that if the Minotaur was

destroyed, the tribute should cease.

On the two former occasions of the payment of the tribute, entertaining

no hopes of safety or return, they sent out the ship with a black sail,

as to unavoidable destruction; but now, Theseus encouraging his father

and speaking greatly of himself, as confident that he should kill the

Minotaur, he gave the pilot another sail, which was white, commanding

him, as he returned, if Theseus were safe, to make use of that; but if

not, to sail with the black one, and to hang out that sign of his

misfortune.  Simonides says that the sail which Aegeus delivered to the

pilot was not white, but

Scarlet, in the juicy bloom

Of the living oak-tree steeped,

and that this was to be the sign of their escape.  Phereclus, son of

Amarsyas, according to Simonides, was pilot of the ship.  But

Philochorus says Theseus had sent him by Scirus, from Salamis,

Nausithous to be his steersman, and Phaeax his look-out-man in the prow,

the Athenians having as yet not applied themselves to navigation; and

that Scirus did this because one of the young men, Menesthes, was his

daughter's son; and this the chapels of Nausithous and Phaeax, built by

Theseus near the temple of Scirus, confirm.  He adds, also, that the

feast named Cybernesia was in honor of them.  The lot

being cast, and Theseus having received out of the Prytaneum those upon

whom it fell, he went to the Delphinium, and made an offering for them

to Apollo of his suppliant's badge, which was a bough of a consecrated

olive tree, with white wool tied about it.

Having thus performed his devotion, he went to sea, the sixth day of

Munychion, on which day even to this time the Athenians send their

virgins to the same temple to make supplication to the gods.  It is

farther reported that he was commanded by the oracle at Delphi to make

Venus his guide, and to invoke her as the companion and conductress of

his voyage, and that, as he was sacrificing a she goat to her by the

seaside, it was suddenly changed into a he, and for this cause that

goddess had the name of Epitrapia.

When he arrived at Crete, as most of the ancient historians as well as

poets tell us, having a clue of thread given him by Ariadne, who had

fallen in love with him, and being instructed by her how to use it so as

to conduct him through the windings of the labyrinth, he escaped out of

it and slew the Minotaur, and sailed back, taking along with him Ariadne

and the young Athenian captives.  Pherecydes adds that he bored holes in

the bottoms of the Cretan ships to hinder their pursuit.  Demon writes

that Taurus, the chief captain of Minos, was slain by Theseus at the

mouth of the port, in a naval combat, as he was sailing out for Athens.

But Philochorus gives us the story thus:  That at the setting forth of

the yearly games by king Minos, Taurus was expected to carry away the

prize, as he had done before; and was much grudged the honor.  His

character and manners made his power hateful, and he was accused

moreover of too near familiarity with Pasiphae, for which reason, when

Theseus desired the combat, Minos readily complied.  And as it was a

custom in Crete that the women also should be admitted to the sight of

these games, Ariadne, being present, was struck with admiration of the

manly beauty of Theseus, and the vigor and address which he showed in

the combat, overcoming all that encountered with him.  Minos, too, being

extremely pleased with him, especially because he had overthrown and

disgraced Taurus, voluntarily gave up the young captives to Theseus, and

remitted the tribute to the Athenians.  Clidemus gives an account

peculiar to himself, very ambitiously, and beginning a great way back:

That it was a decree consented to by all Greece, that no vessel from any

place, containing above five persons, should be permitted to sail, Jason

only excepted, who was made captain of the great ship Argo, to sail

about and scour the sea of pirates.  But Daedalus having escaped from

Crete, and flying by sea to Athens, Minos, contrary to this decree,

pursued him with his ships of war, was forced by a storm upon Sicily,

and there ended his life.  After his decease, Deucalion, his son,

desiring a quarrel with the Athenians, sent to them, demanding that they

should deliver up Daedalus to him, threatening, upon their refusal, to

put to death all the young Athenians whom his father had received as

hostages from the city.  To this angry message Theseus returned a very

gentle answer, excusing himself that he could not deliver up Daedalus,

who was nearly related to him, being his cousin-german, his mother being

Merope, the daughter of Erechtheus.  In the meanwhile he secretly

prepared a navy, part of it at home near the village of the Thymoetadae,

a place of no resort, and far from any common roads, the other part by

his grandfather Pittheus's means at Troezen, that so his design might be

carried on with the greatest secrecy.  As soon as ever his fleet was in

readiness, he set sail, having with him Daedalus and other exiles from

Crete for his guides; and none of the Cretans having any knowledge of

his coming, but imagining, when they saw his fleet, that they were

friends and vessels of their own, he soon made himself master of the

port, and, immediately making a descent, reached Gnossus before any

notice of his coming, and, in a battle before the gates of the

labyrinth, put Deucalion and all his guards to the sword.  The

government by this means falling to Ariadne, he made a league with her,

and received the captives of her, and ratified a perpetual friendship

between the Athenians and the Cretans, whom he engaged under an oath

never again to commence any war with Athens.

There are yet many other traditions about these things, and as many

concerning Ariadne, all inconsistent with each other.  Some relate that

she hung herself, being deserted by Theseus.  Others that she was

carried away by his sailors to the isle of Naxos, and married to

Oenarus, priest of Bacchus; and that Theseus left her

because he fell in love with another,

For Aegle's love was burning in his breast;

a verse which Hereas, the Megarian, says, was formerly in the poet

Hesiod's works, but put out by Pisistratus, in like manner as he added

in Homer's Raising of the Dead, to gratify the Athenians, the line

Theseus, Pirithous, mighty sons of gods.

Others say Ariadne had sons also by Theseus, Oenopion and Staphylus; and

among these is the poet Ion of Chios, who writes of his own native city

Which once Oenopion, son of Theseus, built.

But the more famous of the legendary stories everybody (as I may say)

has in his mouth.  In Paeon, however, the Amathusian, there is a story

given, differing from the rest.  For he writes that Theseus, being

driven by a storm upon the isle of Cyprus, and having aboard with him

Ariadne, big with child, and extremely discomposed with the rolling of

the sea, set her on shore, and left her there alone, to return himself

and help the ship, when, on a sudden, a violent wind carried him again

out to sea.  That the women of the island received Ariadne very kindly,

and did all they could to console and alleviate her distress at being

left behind.  That they counterfeited kind letters, and delivered them

to her, as sent from Theseus, and, when she fell in labor, were diligent

in performing to her every needful service; but that she died before she

could be delivered, and was honorably interred.  That soon after Theseus

returned, and was greatly afflicted for her loss, and at his departure

left a sum of money among the people of the island, ordering them to do

sacrifice to Ariadne; and caused two little images to be made and

dedicated to her, one of silver and the other of brass.  Moreover, that

on the second day of Gorpiaeus,  which is sacred to

Ariadne, they have this ceremony among their sacrifices, to have a youth

lie down and with his voice and gesture represent the pains of a woman

in travail; and that the Amathusians call the grove in which they show

her tomb, the grove of Venus Ariadne.

Differing yet from this account, some of the Naxians write that there

were two Minoses and two Ariadnes, one of whom, they say, was married to

Bacchus, in the isle of Naxos, and bore the children Staphylus and his

brother; but that the other, of a later age, was carried off by Theseus,

and, being afterwards deserted by him, retired to Naxos with her nurse

Corcyna, whose grave they yet show.  That this Ariadne also died there,

and was worshiped by the island, but in a different manner from the

former; for her day is celebrated with general joy and revelling, but

all the sacrifices performed to the latter are attended

with mourning and gloom.

Now Theseus, in his return from Crete, put in at Delos, and, having

sacrificed to the god of the island, dedicated to the temple the image

of Venus which Ariadne had given him, and danced with the young

Athenians a dance that, in memory of him, they say is still preserved

among the inhabitants of Delos, consisting in certain measured turnings

and returnings, imitative of the windings and twistings of the

labyrinth.  And this dance, as Dicaearchus writes, is called among the

Delians, the Crane.  This he danced round the Ceratonian Altar,  so

called from its consisting of horns taken from the left side of the

head.  They say also that he instituted games in Delos where he was the

first that began the custom of giving a palm to the victors.

When they were come near the coast of Attica, so great was the joy for

the happy success of their voyage, that neither Theseus himself nor the

pilot remembered to hang out the sail which should have been the token

of their safety to Aegeus, who, in despair at the sight, threw himself

headlong from a rock, and perished in the sea.  But Theseus, being

arrived at the port of Phalerum, paid there the sacrifices which he had

vowed to the gods at his setting out to sea, and sent a herald to the

city to carry the news of his safe return.  At his entrance, the herald

found the people for the most part full of grief for the loss of their

king, others, as may well be believed, as full of joy for the tidings

that he brought, and eager to welcome him and crown him with garlands for

his good news, which he indeed accepted of, but hung them upon his

herald's staff; and thus returning to the seaside before Theseus had

finished his libation to the gods, he stayed apart for fear of disturbing

the holy rites, but, as soon as the libation was ended, went up and

related the king's death, upon the hearing of which, with great

lamentations and a confused tumult of grief, they ran with all haste to

the city.  And from hence, they say, it comes that at this day, in the

feast of Oschophoria, the herald is not crowned, but his staff, and all

who are present at the libation cry out eleleu iou iou, the first of

which confused sounds is commonly used by men in haste, or at a triumph,

the other is proper to people in consternation or disorder of mind.

Theseus, after the funeral of his father, paid his vows to Apollo the

seventh day of Pyanepsion; for on that day the youth that returned with

him safe from Crete made their entry into the city.  They say, also,

that the custom of boiling pulse at this feast is derived from hence;

because the young men that escaped put all that was left of their

provision together, and, boiling it in one common pot, feasted

themselves with it, and ate it all up together.  Hence, also, they carry

in procession an olive branch bound about with wool (such as they then

made use of in their supplications), which they call Eiresione, crowned

with all sorts of fruits, to signify that scarcity and barrenness was

ceased, singing in their procession this song:

Eiresione bring figs, and Eiresione bring loaves;

Bring us honey in pints, and oil to rub on our bodies,

And a strong flagon of wine, for all to go mellow to bed on.

Although some hold opinion that this ceremony is retained in memory of

the Heraclidae, who were thus entertained and brought up by the

Athenians.  But most are of the opinion which we have given above.

The ship wherein Theseus and the youth of Athens returned had thirty

oars, and was preserved by the Athenians down even to the time of

Demetrius Phalereus, for they took away the old planks as they decayed,

putting in new and stronger timber in their place, insomuch that this

ship became a standing example among the philosophers, for the logical

question as to things that grow; one side holding that the ship

remained the same, and the other contending that it was not the same.

The feast called Oschophoria, or the feast of boughs, which to this day

the Athenians celebrate, was then first instituted by Theseus.  For he

took not with him the full number of virgins which by lot were to be

carried away, but selected two youths of his acquaintance, of fair and

womanish faces, but of a manly and forward spirit, and having, by

frequent baths, and avoiding the heat and scorching of the sun, with a

constant use of all the ointments and washes and dresses that serve to

the adorning of the head or smoothing the skin or improving the

complexion, in a manner changed them from what they were before, and

having taught them farther to counterfeit the very voice and carriage

and gait of virgins, so that there could not be the least difference

perceived; he, undiscovered by any, put them into the number of the

Athenian maids designed for Crete.  At his return, he and these two

youths led up a solemn procession, in the same habit that is now worn by

those who carry the vine-branches.  These branches they carry in honor

of Bacchus and Ariadne, for the sake of their story before related; or

rather because they happened to return in autumn, the time of gathering

the grapes.  The women whom they call Deipnopherae, or supper-carriers,

are taken into these ceremonies, and assist at the sacrifice, in

remembrance and imitation of the mothers of the young men and virgins

upon whom the lot fell, for thus they ran about bringing bread and meat

to their children; and because the women then told their sons and

daughters many tales and stories, to comfort and encourage them under

the danger they were going upon, it has still continued a custom that at

this feast old fables and tales should be told.  For these

particularities we are indebted to the history of Demon.  There was then

a place chosen out, and a temple erected in it to Theseus, and those

families out of whom the tribute of the youth was gathered were

appointed to pay a tax to the temple for sacrifices to him.  And the

house of the Phytalidae had the overseeing of these sacrifices, Theseus

doing them that honor in recompense of their former hospitality.

Now, after the death of his father Aegeus, forming in his mind a great

and wonderful design, he gathered together all the inhabitants of Attica

into one town, and made them one people of one city, whereas before they

lived dispersed, and were not easy to assemble upon any affair for the

common interest.  Nay, differences and even wars often occurred between

them, which he by his persuasions appeased, going from township to

township, and from tribe to tribe.  And those of a more private and mean

condition readily embracing such good advice, to those of greater power

he promised a commonwealth without monarchy, a democracy, or people's

government in which he should only be continued as their commander in

war and the protector of their laws, all things else being equally

distributed among them; and by this means brought a part of them over to

his proposal.  The rest, fearing his power, which was already grown very

formidable, and knowing his courage and resolution, chose rather to be

persuaded than forced into a compliance.  He then dissolved all the

distinct state-houses, council halls, and magistracies, and built one

common state-house and council hall on the site of the

present upper town, and gave the name of Athens to the whole state,

ordaining a common feast and sacrifice, which he called Panathenaea, or

the sacrifice of all the united Athenians.  He instituted also another

sacrifice, called Metoecia, or Feast of Migration, which is yet

celebrated on the sixteenth day of Hecatombaeon.  Then, as he had

promised, he laid down his regal power and proceeded to order a

commonwealth, entering upon this great work not without advice from the

gods.  For having sent to consult the oracle of Delphi concerning the

fortune of his new government and city, he received this answer:

Son of the Pitthean maid,

To your town the terms and fates,

My father gives of many states.

Be not anxious nor afraid;

The bladder will not fail so swim

On the waves that compass him.

Which oracle, they say, one of the sibyls long after did in a manner

repeat to the Athenians, in this verse,

The bladder may be dipt, but not be drowned.

Farther yet designing to enlarge his city, he invited all strangers to

come and enjoy equal privileges with the natives, and it is said that

the common form, Come hither all ye people, was the words that Theseus

proclaimed when he thus set up a commonwealth, in a manner, for all

nations.  Yet he did not suffer his state, by the promiscuous multitude

that flowed in, to be turned into confusion and be left without any

order or degree, but was the first that divided the Commonwealth into

three distinct ranks, the noblemen, the husbandmen, and artificers.%

To the nobility he committed the care of

religion, the choice of magistrates, the teaching and dispensing of the

laws, and interpretation and direction in all sacred matters; the whole

city being, as it were, reduced to an exact equality, the nobles

excelling the rest in honor, the husbandmen in profit, and the

artificers in number.  And that Theseus was the first, who, as Aristotle

says, out of an inclination to popular government, parted with the regal

power, Homer also seems to testify, in his catalogue of the ships, where

he gives the name of People to the Athenians only.

He also coined money, and stamped it with the image of an ox, either in

memory of the Marathonian bull, or of Taurus, whom he vanquished, or

else to put his people in mind to follow husbandry; and from this coin

came the expression so frequent among the Greeks, of a thing being worth

ten or a hundred oxen.  After this he joined Megara to Attica, and

erected that famous pillar on the Isthmus, which bears an inscription of

two lines, showing the bounds of the two countries that meet there.  On

the east side the inscription is,—

Peloponnesus there, Ionia here,

and on the west side,—

Peloponnesus here, Ionia there.

He also instituted the games, in emulation of Hercules, being ambitious

that as the Greeks, by that hero's appointment, celebrated the Olympian

games to the honor of Jupiter, so, by his institution, they should

celebrate the Isthmian to the honor of Neptune.  For those that were

there before observed, dedicated to Melicerta, were performed privately

in the night, and had the form rather of a religious rite than of an

open spectacle or public feast.  There are some who say that the

Isthmian games were first instituted in memory of Sciron, Theseus thus

making expiation for his death, upon account of the nearness of kindred

between them, Sciron being the son of Canethus and Heniocha, the

daughter of Pittheus; though others write that Sinnis, not Sciron, was

their son, and that to his honor, and not to the other's, these games

were ordained by Theseus.  At the same time he made an agreement with

the Corinthians, that they should allow those that came from Athens to

the celebration of the Isthmian games as much space of honor before the

rest to behold the spectacle in, as the sail of the ship that brought

them thither, stretched to its full extent, could cover; so Hellanicus

and Andro of Halicarnassus have established.

Concerning his voyage into the Euxine Sea, Philochorus and some others

write that he made it with Hercules, offering him his service in the war

against the Amazons, and had Antiope given him for the reward of his

valor; but the greater number, of whom are Pherecydes, Hellanicus, and

Herodorus, write that he made this voyage many years after Hercules,

with a navy under his own command, and took the Amazon prisoner, the

more probable story, for we do not read that any other, of all those

that accompanied him in this action, took any Amazon prisoner.  Bion

adds, that, to take her, he had to use deceit and fly away; for the

Amazons, he says, being naturally lovers of men, were so far from

avoiding Theseus when he touched upon their coasts, that they sent him

presents to his ship; but he, having invited Antiope, who brought them,

to come aboard, immediately set sail and carried her away.  An author

named Menecrates, that wrote the History of Nicaea in Bithynia, adds,

that Theseus, having Antiope aboard his vessel, cruised for some time

about those coasts, and that there were in the same ship three young men

of Athens, that accompanied him in this voyage, all brothers, whose

names were Euneos, Thoas, and Soloon.  The last of these fell

desperately in love with Antiope; and, escaping the notice of the rest,

revealed the secret only to one of his most intimate acquaintance, and

employed him to disclose his passion to Antiope, she rejected his

pretenses with a very positive denial, yet treated the matter with much

gentleness and discretion, and made no complaint to Theseus of any thing

that had happened; but Soloon, the thing being desperate, leaped into a

river near the seaside and drowned himself.  As soon as Theseus was

acquainted with his death, and his unhappy love that was the cause of

it, he was extremely distressed, and, in the height of his grief, an

oracle which he had formerly received at Delphi came into his mind, for

he had been commanded by the priestess of Apollo Pythius, that, wherever

in a strange land he was most sorrowful and under the greatest

affliction, he should build a city there, and leave some of his

followers to be governors of the place.  For this cause he there founded

a city, which he called, from the name of Apollo, Pythopolis, and, in

honor of the unfortunate youth, he named the river that runs by it

Soloon, and left the two surviving brothers entrusted with the care of

the government and laws, joining with them Hermus, one of the nobility

of Athens, from whom a place in the city is called the House of Hermus;

though by an error in the accent  it has been taken for the House of

Hermes, or Mercury, and the honor that was designed to the hero

transferred to the god.

This was the origin and cause of the Amazonian invasion of Attica, which

would seem to have been no slight or womanish enterprise.  For it is

impossible that they should have placed their camp in the very city, and

joined battle close by the Pnyx and the hill called Museum, unless,

having first conquered the country round about, they had thus with

impunity advanced to the city.  That they made so long a journey by

land, and passed the Cimmerian Bosphorus when frozen, as Hellanicus

writes, is difficult to be believed.  That they encamped all but in the

city is certain, and may be sufficiently confirmed by the names that the

places thereabout yet retain, and the graves and monuments of those that

fell in the battle.  Both armies being in sight, there was a long pause

and doubt on each side which should give the first onset; at last

Theseus, having sacrificed to Fear, in obedience to the command of an

oracle he had received, gave them battle; and this happened in the month

of Boedromion, in which to this very day the Athenians celebrate the

Feast Boedromia.  Clidemus, desirous to be very circumstantial,writes

that the left wing of the Amazons moved towards the place which is yet

called Amazonium and the right towards the Pnyx, near Chrysa,  that

with this wing the Athenians, issuing from behind the Museum, engaged,

and that the graves of those that were slain are to be seen in the

street that leads to the gate called the Piraic, by the chapel of the

hero Chalcodon; and that here the Athenians were routed, and gave way

before the women, as far as to the temple of the Furies, but, fresh

supplies coming in from the Palladium, Ardettus, and the Lyceum, they

charged their right wing, and beat them back into their tents, in which

action a great number of the Amazons were slain.  At length, after four

months, a peace was concluded between them by the mediation of Hippolyta

(for so this historian calls the Amazon whom Theseus married, and not

Antiope), though others write that she was slain with a dart by

Molpadia, while fighting by Theseus's side, and that the pillar which

stands by the temple of Olympian Earth was erected to her honor.  Nor is

it to be wondered at, that in events of such antiquity, history should

be in disorder.  For indeed we are also told that those of the Amazons

that were wounded were privately sent away by Antiope to Chalcis, where

many by her care recovered, but some that died were buried there in the

place that is to this time called Amazonium.  That this war, however,

was ended by a treaty is evident, both from the name of the place

adjoining to the temple of Theseus, called, from the solemn oath there

taken, Horcomosium;  and also from the ancient sacrifice which used to

be celebrated to the Amazons the day before the Feast of Theseus.  The

Megarians also show a spot in their city where some Amazons were buried,

on the way from the market to a place called Rhus, where the building in

the shape of a lozenge stands.  It is said, likewise, that others of

them were slain near Chaeronea, and buried near the little rivulet,

formerly called Thermodon, but now Haemon, of which an account is given

in the life of Demosthenes.  It appears further that the passage of the

Amazons through Thessaly was not without opposition, for there are yet

shown many tombs of them near Scotussa and Cynoscephalae.

This is as much as is worth telling concerning the Amazons.  For the

account which the author of the poem called the Theseid gives of this

rising of the Amazons, how Antiope, to revenge herself upon Theseus for

refusing her and marrying Phaedra, came down upon the city with her

train of Amazons, whom Hercules slew, is manifestly nothing else but

fable and invention.  It is true, indeed, that Theseus married Phaedra,

but that was after the death of Antiope, by whom he had a son called

Hippolytus, or, as Pindar writes, Demophon.  The calamities which befell

Phaedra and this son, since none of the historians have contradicted the

tragic poets that have written of them, we must suppose happened as

represented uniformly by them.

There are also other traditions of the marriages of Theseus, neither

honorable in their occasions nor fortunate in their events, which yet

were never represented in the Greek plays.  For he is said to have

carried off Anaxo, a Troezenian, and, having slain Sinnis and Cercyon,

to have ravished their daughters; to have married Periboea, the mother

of Ajax, and then Phereboea, and then Iope, the daughter of Iphicles.

And further, he is accused of deserting Ariadne (as is before related),

being in love with Aegle the daughter of Panopeus, neither justly nor

honorably; and lastly, of the rape of Helen, which filled all Attica

with war and blood, and was in the end the occasion of his banishment

and death, as will presently be related.

Herodorus is of opinion, that though there were many famous expeditions

undertaken by the bravest men of his time, yet Theseus never joined in

any of them, once only excepted, with the Lapithae, in their war against

the Centaurs; but others say that he accompanied Jason to Colchis and

Meleager to the slaying of the Calydonian boar, and that hence it came

to be a proverb, Not without Theseus; that he himself, however, without

aid of any one, performed many glorious exploits, and that from him

began the saying, He is a second Hercules.  He also joined Adrastus in

recovering the bodies of those that were slain before Thebes, but not as

Euripides in his tragedy says, by force of arms, but by persuasion and

mutual agreement and composition, for so the greater part of the

historians write; Philochorus adds further that this was the first

treaty that ever was made for the recovering the bodies of the dead, but

in the history of Hercules it is shown that it was he who first gave

leave to his enemies to carry off their slain.  The burying-places of

the most part are yet to be seen in the village called Eleutherae; those

of the commanders, at Eleusis, where Theseus allotted them a place, to

oblige Adrastus.  The story of Euripides in his Suppliants is disproved

by Aeschylus in his Eleusinians, where Theseus himself relates the facts

as here told.

The celebrated friendship between Theseus and Pirithous is said to have

been thus begun:  the fame of the strength and valor of Theseus being

spread through Greece, Pirithous was desirous to make a trial and proof.

of it himself, and to this end seized a herd of oxen which belonged to

Theseus, and was driving them away from Marathon, and, when news was

brought that Theseus pursued him in arms, he did not fly, but turned

back and went to meet him.  But as soon as they had viewed one another,

each so admired the gracefulness and beauty, and was seized with such a

respect for the courage, of the other, that they forgot all thoughts of

fighting; and Pirithous, first stretching out his hand to Theseus, bade

him be judge in this case himself, and promised to submit willingly to

any penalty he should impose.  But Theseus not only forgave him all, but

entreated him to be his friend and brother in arms; and they ratified

their friendship by oaths.  After this Pirithous married Deidamia, and

invited Theseus to the wedding, entreating him to come and see his

country, and make acquaintance with the Lapithae; he had at the same

time invited the Centaurs to the feast, who growing hot with wine and

beginning to be insolent and wild, and offering violence to the women,

the Lapithae took immediate revenge upon them, slaying many of them upon

the place, and afterwards, having overcome them in battle, drove the

whole race of them out of their country, Theseus all along taking their

part and fighting on their side.  But Herodorus gives a different

relation of these things:  that Theseus came not to the assistance of the

Lapithae till the war was already begun; and that it was in this journey

that he had the first sight of Hercules, having made it his business to

find him out at Trachis, where he had chosen to rest himself after all

his wanderings and his labors; and that this interview was honorably

performed on each part, with extreme respect, good-will, and admiration

of each other.  Yet it is more credible, as others write, that there

were, before, frequent interviews between them, and that it was by the

means of Theseus that Hercules was initiated at Eleusis, and purified

before initiation, upon account of several rash actions

of his former life.

Theseus was now fifty years old, as Hellanicus states, when he carried

off Helen, who was yet too young to be married.  Some writers, to take

away this accusation of one of the greatest crimes laid to his charge,

say, that he did not steal away Helen himself, but that Idas and Lynceus

were the ravishers, who brought her to him, and committed her to his

charge, and that, therefore, he refused to restore her at the demand of

Castor and Pollux; or, indeed, they say her own father, Tyndarus, had

sent her to be kept by him, for fear of Enarophorus, the son of

Hippocoon, who would have carried her away by force when she was yet a

child.  But the most probable account, and that which has most witnesses

on its side, is this:  Theseus and Pirithous went both together to

Sparta, and, having seized the young lady as she was dancing in the

temple of Diana Orthia, fled away with her.  There were presently men in

arms sent to pursue, but they followed no further than to Tegea; and

Theseus and Pirithous, being now out of danger, having passed through

Peloponnesus, made an agreement between themselves, that he to whom the

lot should fall should have Helen to his wife, but should be obliged to

assist in procuring another for his friend.  The lot fell upon Theseus,

who conveyed her to Aphidnae, not being yet marriageable, and delivered

her to one of his allies, called Aphidnus, and, having sent his mother

Aethra after to take care of her, desired him to keep them so secretly,

that none might know where they were; which done, to return the same

service to his friend Pirithous, he accompanied him in his journey to

Epirus, in order to steal away the king of the Molossians' daughter.

The king, his own name being Aidoneus, or Pluto, called his wife

Proserpina, and his daughter Cora, and a great dog which he kept

Cerberus, with whom he ordered all that came as suitors to his daughter

to fight, and promised her to him that should overcome the beast.  But

having been informed that the design of Pirithous and his companion was

not to court his daughter, but to force her away, he caused them both to

be seized, and threw Pirithous to be torn in pieces by his dog, and put

Theseus into prison, and kept him.

About this time, Menestheus, the son of Peteus, grandson of Orneus, and

great-grandson to Erechtheus, the first man that is recorded to have

affected popularity and ingratiated himself with the multitude, stirred

up and exasperated the most eminent men of the city, who had long borne

a secret grudge to Theseus, conceiving that he had robbed them of their

several little kingdoms and lordships, and, having pent them all up in

one city, was using them as his subjects and slaves.  He put also the

meaner people into commotion, telling them, that, deluded with a mere

dream of liberty, though indeed they were deprived both of that and of

their proper homes and religious usages, instead of many good and

gracious kings of their own, they had given themselves up to be lorded

over by a new-comer and a stranger.  Whilst he was thus busied in

infecting the minds of the citizens, the war that Castor and Pollux

brought against Athens came very opportunely to further the sedition he

had been promoting, and some say that he by his persuasions was wholly

the cause of their invading the city.  At their first approach, they

committed no acts of hostility, but peaceably demanded their sister

Helen; but the Athenians returning answer that they neither had her

there nor knew where she was disposed of, they prepared to assault the

city, when Academus, having, by whatever means, found it out, disclosed

to them that she was secretly kept at Aphidnae.  For which reason he was

both highly honored during his life by Castor and Pollux, and the

Lacedaemonians, when often in aftertimes they made incursions into

Attica, and destroyed all the country round about, spared the Academy

for the sake of Academus.  But Dicaearchus writes that there were two

Arcadians in the army of Castor and Pollux, the one called Echedemus and

the other Marathus; from the first that which is now called Academia was

then named Echedemia, and the village Marathon had its name from the

other, who, to fulfill some oracle, voluntarily offered himself to be

made a sacrifice before battle.  As soon as they were arrived at

Aphidnae, they overcame their enemies in a set battle, and then

assaulted and took the town.  And here, they say, Alycus, the son of

Sciron, was slain, of the party of the Dioscuri (Castor and Pollux),

from whom a place in Megara, where he was buried, is called Alycus to

this day.  And Hereas writes that it was Theseus himself that killed

him, in witness of which he cites these verses concerning Alycus

And Alycus, upon Aphidna's plain

By Theseus in the cause of Helen slain.

Though it is not at all probable that Theseus himself was there when

both the city and his mother were taken.

Aphidnae being won by Castor and Pollux, and the city of Athens being in

consternation, Menestheus persuaded the people to open their gates, and

receive them with all manner of friendship, for they were, he told them,

at enmity with none but Theseus, who had first injured them, and were

benefactors and saviors to all mankind beside.  And their behavior gave

credit to those promises; for, having made themselves absolute masters

of the place, they demanded no more than to be initiated, since they

were as nearly related to the city as Hercules was, who had received the

same honor.  This their desire they easily obtained, and were adopted by

Aphidnus, as Hercules had been by Pylius.  They were honored also like

gods, and were called by a new name, Anaces, either from the cessation

(Anokhe) of the war, or from the care they took that none should suffer

any injury, though there was so great an army within the walls; for the

phrase anakos ekhein is used of those who look to or care for any thing;

kings for this reason, perhaps, are called anactes.  Others say, that

from the appearance of their star in the heavens, they were thus called,

for in the Attic dialect this name comes very near the words

that signify above.

Some say that Aethra, Theseus's mother, was here taken prisoner, and

carried to Lacedaemon, and from thence went away with Helen to Troy,

alleging this verse of Homer, to prove that she waited upon Helen,

Aethra of Pittheus born, and large-eyed Clymene.

Others reject this verse as none of Homer's, as they do likewise the

whole fable of Munychus, who, the story says, was the son of Demophon

and Laodice, born secretly, and brought up by Aethra at Troy.  But

Ister, in the thirteenth book of his Attic History, gives us an account

of Aethra, different yet from all the rest:  that Achilles and Patroclus

overcame Paris in Thessaly, near the river Sperchius, but that Hector

took and plundered the city of the Troezenians, and made Aethra prisoner

there.  But this seems a groundless tale.

Now Hercules, passing by the Molossians, was entertained in his way by

Aidoneus the king, who, in conversation, accidentally spoke of the

journey of Theseus and Pirithous into his country, of what they had

designed to do, and what they were forced to suffer.  Hercules was much

grieved for the inglorious death of the one and the miserable condition

of the other.  As for Pirithous, he thought it useless to complain; but

begged to have Theseus released for his sake, and obtained that favor

from the king.  Theseus, being thus set at liberty, returned to Athens,

where his friends were not yet wholly suppressed, and dedicated to

Hercules all the sacred places which the city had set apart for himself,

changing their names from Thesea to Heraclea, four only excepted, as

Philochorus writes.  And wishing immediately to resume the first place

in the commonwealth, and manage the state as before, he soon found

himself involved in factions and troubles; those who long had hated him

had now added to their hatred contempt; and the minds of the people were

so generally corrupted, that, instead of obeying commands with silence,

they expected to be flattered into their duty.  He had some thoughts to

have reduced them by force, but was overpowered by demagogues and

factions.  And at last, despairing of any good success of his affairs in

Athens, he sent away his children privately to Euboea, commending them

to the care of Elephenor, the son of Chalcodon; and he himself, having

solemnly cursed the people of Athens in the village of Gargettus, in

which there yet remains the place called Araterion, or the place of

cursing, sailed to Scyros, where he had lands left him by his father,

and friendship, as he thought, with those of the island.  Lycomedes was

then king of Scyros.  Theseus, therefore, addressed himself to him, and

desired to have his lands put into his possession, as designing to

settle and to dwell there, though others say that he came to beg his

assistance against the Athenians.  But Lycomedes, either jealous of the

glory of so great a man, or to gratify Menestheus, having led him up to

the highest cliff of the island, on pretense of showing him from thence

the lands that he desired, threw him headlong down from the rock, and

killed him.  Others say he fell down of himself by a slip of his foot,

as he was walking there, according to his custom, after supper.  At that

time there was no notice taken, nor were any concerned for his death,

but Menestheus quietly possessed the kingdom of Athens.  His sons were

brought up in a private condition, and accompanied Elephenor to the

Trojan war, but, after the decease of Menestheus in that expedition,

returned to Athens, and recovered the government.  But in succeeding

ages, beside several other circumstances that moved the Athenians to

honor Theseus as a demigod, in the battle which was fought at Marathon

against the Medes, many of the soldiers believed they saw an apparition

of Theseus in arms, rushing on at the head of them against the

barbarians.  And after the Median war, Phaedo being archon of Athens,

the Athenians, consulting the oracle at Delphi, were commanded to gather

together the bones of Theseus, and, laying them in some honorable place,

keep them as sacred in the city.  But it was very difficult to recover

these relics, or so much as to find out the place where they lay, on

account of the inhospitable and savage temper of the barbarous people

that inhabited the island.  Nevertheless, afterwards, when Cimon took

the island (as is related in his life), and had a great ambition to find

out the place where Theseus was buried, he, by chance, spied an eagle

upon a rising ground pecking with her beak and tearing up the earth with

her talons, when on the sudden it came into his mind, as it were by some

divine inspiration, to dig there, and search for the bones of Theseus.

There were found in that place a coffin of a man of more than ordinary

size, and a brazen spear-head, and a sword lying by it, all which he

took aboard his galley and brought with him to Athens.  Upon which the

Athenians, greatly delighted, went out to meet and receive the relics

with splendid processions and with sacrifices, as if it were Theseus

himself returning alive to the city.  He lies interred in the middle of

the city, near the present gymnasium.  His tomb is a sanctuary and

refuge for slaves, and all those of mean condition that fly from the

persecution of men in power, in memory that Theseus while he lived was

an assister and protector of the distressed, and never refused the

petitions of the afflicted that fled to him.  The chief and most solemn

sacrifice which they celebrate to him is kept on the eighth day of

Pyanepsion, on which he returned with the Athenian young men from Crete.

Besides which, they sacrifice to him on the eighth day of every month,

either because he returned from Troezen the eighth day of Hecatombaeon,

as Diodorus the geographer writes, or else thinking that number to be

proper to him, because he was reputed to be born of Neptune, because

they sacrifice to Neptune on the eighth day of every month.  The number

eight being the first cube of an even number, and the double of the

first square, seemed to be an emblem of the steadfast and immovable

power of this god, who from thence has the names of Asphalius and

Gaeiochus, that is, the establisher and stayer of the earth.

ROMULUS

From whom, and for what reason, the city of Rome, a name so great in

glory, and famous in the mouths of all men, was so first called, authors

do not agree.  Some are of opinion that the Pelasgians, wandering over

the greater part of the habitable world, and subduing numerous nations,

fixed themselves here, and, from their own great strength  in war,

called the city Rome.  Others, that at the taking of Troy, some few that

escaped and met with shipping, put to sea, and, driven by winds, were

carried upon the coasts of Tuscany, and came to anchor off the mouth of

the river Tiber, where their women, out of heart and weary with the sea,

on its being proposed by one of the highest birth and best understanding

amongst them, whose name was Roma, burnt the ships.  With which act the

men at first were angry, but afterwards, of necessity, seating

themselves near Palatium, where things in a short while succeeded far

better than they could hope, in that they found the country very good,

and the people courteous, they not only did the lady Roma other honors,

but added also this, of calling after her name the city which she had

been the occasion of their founding.  From this, they say, has come down

that custom at Rome for women to salute their kinsmen and husbands with

kisses; because these women, after they had burnt the ships, made use of

such endearments when entreating and pacifying their husbands.

Some again say that Roma, from whom this city was so called, was

daughter of Italus and Leucaria; or, by another account, of Telephus,

Hercules's son, and that she was married to Aeneas, or, according to

others again, to Ascanius, Aeneas's son.  Some tell us that Romanus, the

son of Ulysses and Circe, built it; some, Romus the son of Emathion,

Diomede having sent him from Troy; and others, Romus, king of the

Latins, after driving out the Tyrrhenians, who had come from Thessaly

into Lydia, and from thence into Italy.  Those very authors, too, who,

in accordance with the safest account, make Romulus give the name to the

city, yet differ concerning his birth and family.  For some say, he was

son to Aeneas and Dexithea, daughter of Phorbas, and was, with his

brother Remus, in their infancy, carried into Italy, and being on the

river when the waters came down in a flood, all the vessels were cast

away except only that where the young children were, which being gently

landed on a level bank of the river, they were both unexpectedly saved,

and from them the place was called Rome.  Some say, Roma, daughter of

the Trojan lady above mentioned, was married to Latinus, Telemachus's

son, and became mother to Romulus; others, that Aemilia, daughter of

Aeneas and Lavinia, had him by the god Mars; and others give you mere

fables of his origin.  For to Tarchetius, they say, king of Alba, who

was a most wicked and cruel man, there appeared in his own house a

strange vision, a male figure that rose out of a hearth, and stayed

there for many days.  There was an oracle of Tethys in Tuscany which

Tarchetius consulted, and received an answer that a virgin should give

herself to the apparition, and that a son should be born of her, highly

renowned, eminent for valor, good fortune, and strength of body.

Tarchetius told the prophecy to one of his own daughters, and commanded

her to do this thing; which she avoiding as an indignity, sent her

handmaid.  Tarchetius, hearing this, in great anger imprisoned them

both, purposing to put them to death; but being deterred from murder by

the goddess Vesta in a dream, enjoined them for their punishment the

working a web of cloth, in their chains as they were, which when they

finished, they should be suffered to marry; but whatever they worked by

day, Tarchetius commanded others to unravel in the night.  In the

meantime, the waiting-woman was delivered of two boys, whom Tarchetius

gave into the hands of one Teratius, with command to destroy them; he,

however, carried and laid them by the river side, where a wolf came and

continued to suckle them, while birds of various sorts brought little

morsels of food, which they put into their mouths; till a cow-herd,

spying them, was first strangely surprised, but, venturing to draw

nearer, took the children up in his arms.  Thus they were saved, and,

when they grew up, set upon Tarchetius and overcame him.  This one

Promathion says, who compiled a history of Italy.

But the story which is most believed and has the greatest number of

vouchers was first published, in its chief particulars, amongst the

Greeks by Diocles of Peparethus, whom Fabius Pictor also follows in most

points.  Here again there are variations, but in general outline it runs

thus: the kings of Alba reigned in lineal descent from Aeneas and the

succession devolved at length upon two brothers, Numitor and Amulius.

Amulius proposed to divide things into two equal shares, and set as

equivalent to the kingdom the treasure and gold that were brought from

Troy.  Numitor chose the kingdom; but Amulius, having the money, and

being able to do more with that than Numitor, took his kingdom from him

with great ease, and, fearing lest his daughter might have children,

made her a Vestal, bound in that condition forever to live a single and

maiden life.  This lady some call Ilia, others Rhea, and others Silvia;

however, not long after, she was, contrary to the established laws of

the Vestals, discovered to be with child, and should have suffered the

most cruel punishment, had not Antho, the king's daughter, mediated with

her father for her; nevertheless, she was confined, and debarred all

company, that she might not be delivered without the king's knowledge.

In time she brought forth two boys, of more than human size and beauty,

whom Amulius, becoming yet more alarmed, commanded a servant to take and

cast away; this man some call Faustulus, others say Faustulus was the

man who brought them up.  He put the children, however, in a small

trough, and went towards the river with a design to cast them in; but,

seeing the waters much swollen and coming violently down, was afraid to

go nearer, and, dropping the children near the bank, went away.  The

river overflowing, the flood at last bore up the trough, and, gently

wafting it, landed them on a smooth piece of ground, which they now call

Cermanes, formerly Germanus, perhaps from Germani,

which signifies brothers.

Near this place grew a wild fig-tree, which they called Ruminalis,

either from Romulus (as it is vulgarly thought), or from ruminating,

because cattle did usually in the heat of the day seek cover under it,

and there chew the cud; or, better, from the suckling of these children

there, for the ancients called the dug or teat of any creature ruma, and

there is a tutelar goddess of the rearing of children whom they still

call Rumilia, in sacrificing to whom they use no wine, but make

libations of milk.  While the infants lay here, history tells us, a she-

wolf nursed them, and a woodpecker constantly fed and watched them;

these creatures are esteemed holy to the god Mars, the woodpecker the

Latins still especially worship and honor.  Which things, as much as

any, gave credit to what the mother of the children said, that their

father was the god Mars: though some say that it was a mistake put upon

her by Amulius, who himself had come to her dressed up in armor.

Others think that the first rise of this fable came from the children's

nurse, through the ambiguity of her name; for the Latins not only called

wolves lupae, but also women of loose life; and such an one was the wife

of Faustulus, who nurtured these children, Acca Larentia by name.  To

her the Romans offer sacrifices, and in the month of April the priest of

Mars makes libations there; it is called the Larentian Feast.  They

honor also another Larentia, for the following reason: the keeper of

Hercules's temple having, it seems, little else to do, proposed to his

deity a game at dice, laying down that, if he himself won, he would have

something valuable of the god; but if he were beaten, he would spread

him a noble table, and procure him a fair lady's company.  Upon these

terms, throwing first for the god and then for himself, he found himself

beaten.  Wishing to pay his stakes honorably, and holding himself bound

by what he had said, he both provided the deity a good supper, and,

giving money to Larentia, then in her beauty, though not publicly known,

gave her a feast in the temple, where he had also laid a bed, and after

supper locked her in, as if the god were really to come to her.  And

indeed, it is said, the deity did truly visit her, and commanded her in

the morning to walk to the market-place, and, whatever man see met

first, to salute him, and make him her friend.  She met one named

Tarrutius, who was a man advanced in years, fairly rich without

children, and had always lived a single life.  He received Larentia, and

loved her well, and at his death left her sole heir of all his large and

fair possessions, most of which she, in her last will and testament,

bequeathed to the people.  It was reported of her, being now celebrated

and esteemed the mistress of a god, that she suddenly disappeared near

the place where the first Larentia lay buried; the spot is at this day

called Velabrum, because, the river frequently overflowing, they went

over in ferry-boats somewhere hereabouts to the forum, the Latin word

for ferrying being velatura.  Others derive the name from velum, a sail;

because the exhibitors of public shows used to hang the road that leads

from the forum to the Circus Maximus with sails, beginning at this spot.

Upon these accounts the second Larentia is honored at Rome.

Meantime Faustulus, Amulius's swineherd, brought up the children without

any man's knowledge; or, as those say who wish to keep closer to

probabilities, with the knowledge and secret assistance of Numitor; for

it is said, they went to school at Gabii, and were well instructed in

letters, and other accomplishments befitting their birth.  And they were

called Romulus and Remus, (from ruma, the dug,) as we had before,

because they were found sucking the wolf.  In their very infancy, the size

and beauty of their bodies intimated their natural superiority; and when

they grew up, they both proved brave and manly, attempting all

enterprises that seemed hazardous, and showing in them a courage

altogether undaunted.  But Romulus seemed rather to act by counsel, and

to show the sagacity of a statesman, and in all his dealings with their

neighbors, whether relating to feeding of flocks or to hunting, gave the

idea of being born rather to rule than to obey.  To their comrades and

inferiors they were therefore dear; but the king's servants, his

bailiffs and overseers, as being in nothing better men than themselves,

they despised and slighted, nor were the least concerned at their

commands and menaces.  They used honest pastimes and liberal studies,

not esteeming sloth and idleness honest and liberal, but rather such

exercises as hunting and running, repelling robbers, taking of thieves,

and delivering the wronged and oppressed from injury.  For doing such

things they became famous.

A quarrel occurring between Numitor's and Amulius's cowherds, the

latter, not enduring the driving away of their cattle by the others,

fell upon them and put them to flight, and rescued the greatest part of

the prey.  At which Numitor being highly incensed, they little regarded

it, but collected and took into their company a number of needy men and

runaway slaves,—acts which looked like the first stages of rebellion.

It so happened, that when Romulus was attending a sacrifice, being fond

of sacred rites and divination, Numitor's herdsmen, meeting with Remus

on a journey with few companions, fell upon him, and, after some

fighting, took him prisoner, carried him before Numitor, and there

accused him.  Numitor would not punish him himself, fearing his

brother's anger, but went to Amulius, and desired justice, as he was

Amulius's brother and was affronted by Amulius's servants.  The men of

Alba likewise resenting the thing, and thinking he had been dishonorably

used, Amulius was induced to deliver Remus up into Numitor's hands, to

use him as he thought fit.  He therefore took and carried him home, and,

being struck with admiration of the youth's person, in stature and

strength of body exceeding all men, and perceiving in his very

countenance the courage and force of his mind, which stood unsubdued and

unmoved by his present circumstances, and hearing further that all the

enterprises and actions of his life were answerable to what he saw of

him, but chiefly, as it seemed, a divine influence aiding and directing

the first steps that were to lead to great results, out of the mere

thought of his mind, and casually, as it were, he put his hand upon the

fact, and, in gentle terms and with a kind aspect, to inspire him with

confidence and hope, asked him who he was, and whence he was derived.

He, taking heart, spoke thus: " I will hide nothing from you, for you

seem to be of a more princely temper than Amulius, in that you give a

hearing and examine before you punish, while he condemns before the

cause is heard.  Formerly, then, we (for we are twins) thought ourselves

the sons of Faustulus and Larentia, the king's servants; but since we

have been accused and aspersed with calumnies, and brought in peril of

our lives here before you, we hear great things of ourselves, the truth

of which my present danger is likely to bring to the test.  Our birth is

said to have been secret, our fostering and nurture in our infancy still

more strange; by birds and beasts, to whom we were cast out, we were

fed, by the milk of a wolf, and the morsels of a woodpecker, as we lay

in a little trough by the side of the river.  The trough is still in

being, and is preserved, with brass plates round it, and an inscription

in letters almost effaced; which may prove hereafter unavailing tokens

to our parents when we are dead and gone." Numitor, upon these words,

and computing the dates by the young man's looks, slighted not the hope

that flattered him, but considered how to come at his daughter privately

(for she was still kept under restraint), to talk with her concerning

these matters.

Faustulus, hearing Remus was taken and delivered up, called on Romulus

to assist in his rescue, informing him then plainly of the particulars

of his birth, not but he had before given hints of it, and told as much

as an attentive man might make no small conclusions from; he himself,

full of concern and fear of not coming in time, took the trough, and ran

instantly to Numitor; but giving a suspicion to some of the king's

sentry at his gate, and being gazed upon by them and perplexed with

their questions, he let it be seen that he was hiding the trough under

his cloak.  By chance there was one among them who was at the exposing

of the children, and was one employed in the office; he, seeing the

trough and knowing it by its make and inscription, guessed at the

business, and, without further delay, telling the king of it, brought in

the man to be examined.  Faustulus, hard beset, did not show himself

altogether proof against terror; nor yet was he wholly forced out of

all; confessed indeed the children were alive, but lived, he said, as

shepherds, a great way from Alba; he himself was going to carry the

trough to Ilia, who had often greatly desired to see and handle it, for

a confirmation of her hopes of her children.  As men generally do who

are troubled in mind and act either in fear or passion, it so fell out

Amulius now did; for he sent in haste as a messenger, a man, otherwise

honest, and friendly to Numitor, with commands to learn from Numitor

whether any tidings were come to him of the children's being alive.  He,

coming and seeing how little Remus wanted of being received into the

arms and embraces of Numitor, both gave him surer confidence in his

hope, and advised them, with all expedition, to proceed to action;

himself too joining and assisting them, and indeed, had they wished it,

the time would not have let them demur.  For Romulus was now come very

near, and many of the citizens, out of fear and hatred of Amulius, were

running out to join him; besides, he brought great forces with him,

divided into companies, each of an hundred men, every captain carrying a

small bundle of grass and shrubs tied to a pole.  The Latins call such

bundles manipuli and from hence it is that in their armies still they

call their captains manipulares.  Remus rousing the citizens within to

revolt, and Romulus making attacks from without, the tyrant, not knowing

either what to do, or what expedient to think of for his security, in

this perplexity and confusion was taken and put to death.  This

narrative, for the most part given by Fabius and Diocles of Peparethus,

who seem to be the earliest historians of the foundation of Rome, is

suspected by some, because of its dramatic and fictitious appearance;

but it would not wholly be disbelieved, if men would remember what a

poet fortune sometimes shows herself, and consider that the Roman power

would hardly have reached so high a pitch without a divinely ordered

origin, attended with great and extraordinary circumstances.

Amulius now being dead and matters quietly disposed, the two brothers

would neither dwell in Alba without governing there, nor take the

government into their own hands during the life of their grandfather.

Having therefore delivered the dominion up into his hands, and paid

their mother befitting honor, they resolved to live by themselves, and

build a city in the same place where they were in their infancy brought

up.  This seems the most honorable reason for their departure; though

perhaps it was necessary, having such a body of slaves and fugitives

collected about them, either to come to nothing by dispersing them, or

if not so, then to live with them elsewhere.  For that the inhabitants

of Alba did not think fugitives worthy of being received and

incorporated as citizens among them plainly appears from the matter of

the women, an attempt made not wantonly but of necessity, because they

could not get wives by good-will.  For they certainly paid unusual

respect and honor to those whom they thus forcibly seized.

Not long after the first foundation of the city, they opened a sanctuary

of refuge for all fugitives, which they called the temple of the god

Asylaeus, where they received and protected all, delivering none back,

neither the servant to his master, the debtor to his creditor, nor the

murderer into the hands of the magistrate, saying it was a privileged

place, and they could so maintain it by an order of the holy oracle;

insomuch that the city grew presently very populous, for, they say, it

consisted at first of no more than a thousand houses.

But of that hereafter.

Their minds being fully bent upon building, there arose presently a

difference about the place where.  Romulus chose what was called Roma

Quadrata, or the Square Rome, and would have the city there.  Remus laid

out a piece of ground on the Aventine Mount, well fortified by nature,

which was from him called Remonium, but now Rignarium.  Concluding at

last to decide the contest by a divination from a flight of birds, and

placing themselves apart at some distance, Remus, they say, saw six

vultures, and Romulus double the number; others say Remus did truly see

his number, and that Romulus feigned his, but, when Remus came to him,

that then he did, indeed, see twelve.  Hence it is that the Romans, in

their divinations from birds, chiefly regard the vulture, though

Herodorus Ponticus relates that Hercules was always very joyful when a

vulture appeared to him upon any action.  For it is a creature the least

hurtful of any, pernicious neither to corn, fruit-tree, nor cattle; it

preys only upon carrion, and never kills or hurts any living thing; and

as for birds, it touches not them, though they are dead, as being of its

own species, whereas eagles, owls, and hawks mangle and kill their own

fellow-creatures; yet, as Aeschylus says,—

What bird is clean that preys on fellow bird ?

Besides all other birds are, so to say, never out of our eyes; they let

themselves be seen of us continually; but a vulture is a very rare

sight, and you can seldom meet with a man that has seen their young;

their rarity and infrequency has raised a strange opinion in some, that

they come to us from some other world; as soothsayers ascribe a divine

origination to all things not produced either of nature

or of themselves.

When Remus knew the cheat, he was much displeased; and as Romulus was

casting up a ditch, where he designed the foundation of the citywall, he

turned some pieces of the work to ridicule, and obstructed others: at

last, as he was in contempt leaping over it, some say Romulus himself

struck him, others Celer, one of his companions; he fell, however, and

in the scuffle Faustulus also was slain, and Plistinus, who, being

Faustulus's brother, story tells us, helped to bring up Romulus.  Celer

upon this fled instantly into Tuscany, and from him the Romans call all

men that are swift of foot Celeres; and because Quintus Metellus, at his

father's funeral, in a few days' time gave the people a show of

gladiators, admiring his expedition in getting it ready, they gave him

the name of Celer.

Romulus, having buried his brother Remus, together with his two foster-

fathers, on the mount Remonia, set to building his city; and sent for

men out of Tuscany, who directed him by sacred usages and written rules

in all the ceremonies to be observed, as in a religious rite.  First,

they dug a round trench about that which is now the Comitium, or Court

of Assembly, and into it solemnly threw the first-fruits of all things

either good by custom or necessary by nature; lastly, every man taking a

small piece of earth of the country from whence he came, they all threw

them in promiscuously together.  This trench they call, as they do the

heavens, Mundus; making which their center, they described the city in a

circle round it.  Then the founder fitted to a plow a brazen plowshare,

and, yoking together a bull and a cow, drove himself a deep line or

furrow round the bounds; while the business of those that followed after

was to see that whatever earth was thrown up should be turned all

inwards towards the city, and not to let any clod lie outside.  With

this line they described the wall, and called it, by a contraction,

Pomoerium, that is, post murum, after or beside the wall; and where they

designed to make a gate, there they took out the share, carried the plow

over, and left a space; for which reason they consider the whole wall as

holy, except where the gates are; for had they adjudged them also

sacred, they could not, without offense to religion, have given free

ingress and egress for the necessaries of human life, some of which are

in themselves unclean.

As for the day they began to build the city, it is universally agreed to

have been the twenty-first of April, and that day the Romans annually

keep holy, calling it their country's birthday.  At first, they say,

they sacrificed no living creature on this day, thinking it fit to

preserve the feast of their country's birthday pure and without stain

of blood.  Yet before ever the city was built, there was a feast of

herdsmen and shepherds kept on this day, which went by the name of

Palilia.  The Roman and Greek months have now little or no agreement;

they say, however, the day on which Romulus began to build was quite

certainly the thirtieth of the month, at which time there was an eclipse

of the sun which they conceive to be that seen by Antimachus, the Teian

poet, in the third year of the sixth Olympiad.  In the times of Varro

the philosopher, a man deeply read in Roman history, lived one

Tarrutius, his familiar acquaintance, a good philosopher and

mathematician, and one, too, that out of curiosity had studied the way

of drawing schemes and tables, and was thought to be a proficient in the

art; to him Varro propounded to cast Romulus's nativity, even to the

first day and hour, making his deductions from the several events of the

man's life which he should be informed of, exactly as in working back a

geometrical problem; for it belonged, he said, to the same science both

to foretell a man's life by knowing the time of his birth, and also to

find out his birth by the knowledge of his life.  This task Tarrutius

undertook, and first looking into the actions and casualties of the man,

together with the time of his life and manner of his death, and then

comparing all these remarks together, he very confidently and positively

pronounced that Romulus was conceived in his mother's womb the first

year of the second Olympiad, the twenty-third day of the month the

Egyptians call Choeac, and the third hour after sunset, at which time

there was a total eclipse of the sun; that he was born the twenty-first

day of the month Thoth, about sun-rising; and that the first stone of

Rome was laid by him the ninth day of the month Pharmuthi, between the

second and third hour.  For the fortunes of cities as well as of men,

they think, have their certain periods of time prefixed, which may be

collected and foreknown from the position of the stars at their first

foundation.  But these and the like relations may perhaps not so much

take and delight the reader with their novelty and curiosity, as offend

him by their extravagance.

The city now being built, Romulus enlisted all that were of age to bear

arms into military companies, each company consisting of three thousand

footmen and three hundred horse.  These companies were called legions,

because they were the choicest and most select of the people for

fighting men.  The rest of the multitude he called the people; one

hundred of the most eminent he chose for counselors; these he styled

patricians, and their assembly the senate, which signifies a council of

elders.  The patricians, some say, were so called because they were the

fathers of lawful children; others, because they could give a good

account who their own fathers were, which not every one of the rabble

that poured into the city at first could do; others, from patronage,

their word for protection of inferiors, the origin of which they

attribute to Patron, one of those that came over with Evander, who was a

great protector and defender of the weak and needy.  But perhaps the

most probable judgment might be, that Romulus, esteeming it the duty of

the chiefest and wealthiest men, with a fatherly care and concern to

look after the meaner, and also encouraging the commonalty not to dread

or be aggrieved at the honors of their superiors, but to love and

respect them, and to think and call them their fathers, might from hence

give them the name of patricians.  For at this very time all foreigners

give senators the style of lords; but the Romans, making use of a more

honorable and less invidious name, call them Patres Conscripti; at first

indeed simply Patres, but afterwards, more being added, Patres

Conscripti.  By this more imposing title he distinguished the senate

from the populace; and in other ways also separated the nobles and the

commons,—calling them patrons, and these their clients,—by which means

he created wonderful love and amity between them, productive of great

justice in their dealings.  For they were always their clients'

counselors in law cases, their advocates in courts of justice, in fine

their advisers and supporters in all affairs whatever.  These again

faithfully served their patrons, not only paying them all respect and

deference, but also, in case of poverty, helping them to portion their

daughters and pay off their debts; and for a patron to witness against

his client, or a client against his patron, was what no law nor

magistrate could enforce.  In after times all other duties subsisting

still between them, it was thought mean and dishonorable for the better

sort to take money from their inferiors.  And so much of these matters.

In the fourth month, after the city was built, as Fabius writes, the

adventure of stealing the women was attempted; and some say Romulus

himself, being naturally a martial man, and predisposed too, perhaps, by

certain oracles, to believe the fates had ordained the future growth and

greatness of Rome should depend upon the benefit of war, upon these

accounts first offered violence to the Sabines, since he took away only

thirty virgins, more to give an occasion of war than out of any want of

women.  But this is not very probable; it would seem rather that,

observing his city to be filled by a confluence of foreigners, few of

whom had wives, and that the multitude in general, consisting of a

mixture of mean and obscure men, fell under contempt, and seemed to be

of no long continuance together, and hoping farther, after the women

were appeased, to make this injury in some measure an occasion of

confederacy and mutual commerce with the Sabines, he took in hand this

exploit after this manner.  First, he gave it out as if he had found an

altar of a certain god hid under ground; the god they called Consus,

either the god of counsel (for they still call a consultation consilium

and their chief magistrates consules, namely, counselors), or else the

equestrian Neptune, for the altar is kept covered in the circus maximus

at all other times, and only at horse-races is exposed to public view;

others merely say that this god had his altar hid under ground because

counsel ought to be secret and concealed.  Upon discovery of this altar,

Romulus, by proclamation, appointed a day for a splendid sacrifice, and

for public games and shows, to entertain all sorts of people; many

flocked thither, and he himself sat in front, amidst his nobles, clad

in purple.  Now the signal for their falling on was to be whenever he

rose and gathered up his robe and threw it over his body; his men stood

all ready armed, with their eyes intent upon him, and when the sign was

given, drawing their swords and falling on with a great shout, they

ravished away the daughters of the Sabines, they themselves flying

without any let or hindrance.  They say there were but thirty taken, and

from them the Curiae or Fraternities were named; but Valerius Antias

says five hundred and twenty-seven, Juba, six hundred and eighty-three

virgins; which was indeed the greatest excuse Romulus could allege,

namely, that they had taken no married woman, save one only, Hersilia by

name, and her too unknowingly; which showed they did not commit this

rape wantonly, but with a design purely of forming alliance with their

neighbors by the greatest and surest bonds.  This Hersilia some say

Hostilius married, a most eminent man among the Romans; others, Romulus

himself, and that she bore two children to him, a daughter, by reason of

primogeniture called Prima, and one only son, whom, from the great

concourse of citizens to him at that time, he called Aollius, but after

ages Abillius.  But Zenodotus the Troezenian, in giving this account, is

contradicted by many.

Among those who committed this rape upon the virgins, there were, they

say, as it so then happened, some of the meaner sort of men, who were

carrying off a damsel, excelling all in beauty and comeliness of

stature, whom when some of superior rank that met them attempted to take

away, they cried out they were carrying her to Talasius, a young man,

indeed, but brave and worthy; hearing that, they commended and applauded

them loudly, and also some, turning back, accompanied them with good-

will and pleasure, shouting out the name of Talasius.  Hence the Romans

to this very time, at their weddings, sing Talasius for their nuptial

word, as the Greeks do Hymenaeus, because, they say, Talasius was very

happy in his marriage.  But Sextius Sylla the Carthaginian, a man

wanting neither learning nor ingenuity, told me Romulus gave this word

as a sign when to begin the onset; everybody, therefore, who made prize

of a maiden, cried out, Talasius; and for that reason the custom

continues so now at marriages.  But most are of opinion (of whom Juba

particularly is one) that this word was used to new-married women by way

of incitement to good housewifery and talasia (spinning), as we say in

Greek, Greek words at that time not being as yet overpowered by Italian.

But if this be the case, and if the Romans did at that time use the word

talasia as we do, a man might fancy a more probable reason of the

custom.  For when the Sabines, after the war against the Romans, were

reconciled, conditions were made concerning their women, that they

should be obliged to do no other servile offices to their husbands but

what concerned spinning; it was customary, therefore, ever after, at

weddings, for those that gave the bride or escorted her or otherwise

were present, sportingly to say Talasius, intimating that she was

henceforth to serve in spinning and no more.  It continues also a custom

at this very day for the bride not of herself to pass her husband's

threshold, but to be lifted over, in memory that the Sabine virgins were

carried in by violence, and did not go in of their own will.  Some say,

too, the custom of parting the bride's hair with the head of a spear was

in token their marriages began at first by war and acts of hostility, of

which I have spoken more fully in my book of Questions.

This rape was committed on the eighteenth day of the month Sextilis, now

called August, on which the solemnities of the Consualia are kept.

The Sabines were a numerous and martial people, but lived in small,

unfortified villages, as it befitted, they thought, a colony of the

Lacedaemonians to be bold and fearless; nevertheless, seeing themselves

bound by such hostages to their good behavior, and being solicitous for

their daughters, they sent ambassadors to Romulus with fair and

equitable requests, that he would return their young women and recall

that act of violence, and afterwards, by persuasion and lawful means,

seek friendly correspondence between both nations.  Romulus would not

part with the young women, yet proposed to the Sabines to enter into an

alliance with them; upon which point some consulted and demurred long,

but Acron, king of the Ceninenses, a man of high spirit and a good

warrior, who had all along a jealousy of Romulus's bold attempts, and

considering particularly from this exploit upon the women that he was

growing formidable to all people, and indeed insufferable, were he not

chastised, first rose up in arms, and with a powerful army advanced

against him.  Romulus likewise prepared to receive him; but when they

came within sight and viewed each other, they made a challenge to fight

a single duel, the armies standing by under arms, without participation.

And Romulus, making a vow to Jupiter, if he should conquer, to carry,

himself, and dedicate his adversary's armor to his honor, overcame him

in combat, and, a battle ensuing, routed his army also, and then took

his city; but did those he found in it no injury, only commanded them to

demolish the place and attend him to Rome, there to be admitted to all

the privileges of citizens.  And indeed there was nothing did more

advance the greatness of Rome, than that she did always unite and

incorporate those whom she conquered into herself.  Romulus, that he

might perform his vow in the most acceptable manner to Jupiter, and

withal make the pomp of it delightful to the eye of the city, cut down a

tall oak which he saw growing in the camp, which he trimmed to the shape

of a trophy, and fastened on it Acron's whole suit of armor disposed in

proper form; then he himself, girding his clothes about him, and

crowning his head with a laurel-garland, his hair gracefully flowing,

carried the trophy resting erect upon his right shoulder, and so marched

on, singing songs of triumph, and his whole army following after, the

citizens all receiving him with acclamations of joy and wonder.  The

procession of this day was the origin and model of all after triumphs.

This trophy was styled an offering to Jupiter Feretrius, from ferire,

which in Latin is to smite; for Romulus prayed he might smite and

overthrow his enemy; and the spoils were called opima, or royal spoils,

says Varro, from their richness, which the word opes signifies; though

one would more probably conjecture from opus, an act; for it is only to

the general of an army who with his own hand kills his enemies' general

that this honor is granted of offering the opima spolia.  And three only

of the Roman captains have had it conferred on them: first, Romulus,

upon killing Acron the Ceninensian; next, Cornelius Cossus, for slaying

Tolumnius the Tuscan; and lastly, Claudius Marcellus, upon his

conquering Viridomarus, king of the Gauls.  The two latter, Cossus and

Marcellus, made their entries in triumphant chariots, bearing their

trophies themselves; but that Romulus made use of a chariot, Dionysius

is wrong in asserting.  History says, Tarquinius, Damaratus's son, was

the first that brought triumphs to this great pomp and grandeur; others,

that Publicola was the first that rode in triumph.  The statues of

Romulus in triumph are, as may be seen in Rome, all on foot.

After the overthrow of the Ceninensians, the other Sabines still

protracting the time in preparations, the people of Fidenae,

Crustumerium, and Antemna, joined their forces against the Romans; they

in like manner were defeated in battle, and surrendered up to Romulus

their cities to be seized, their lands and territories to be divided,

and themselves to be transplanted to Rome.  All the lands which Romulus

acquired, he distributed among the citizens, except only what the

parents of the stolen virgins had; these he suffered to possess their

own.  The rest of the Sabines, enraged hereat, choosing Tatius their

captain, marched straight against Rome.  The city was almost

inaccessible, having for its fortress that which is now the Capitol,

where a strong guard was placed, and Tarpeius their captain; not Tarpeia

the virgin, as some say who would make Romulus a fool.  But Tarpeia,

daughter to the captain, coveting the golden bracelets she saw them

wear, betrayed the fort into the Sabines' hands, and asked, in reward of

her treachery, the things they wore on their left arms.  Tatius

conditioning thus with her, in the night she opened one of the gates,

and received the Sabines in.  And truly Antigonus, it would seem, was

not solitary in saying, he loved betrayers, but hated those who had

betrayed; nor Caesar, who told Rhymitalces the Thracian, that he loved

the treason, but hated the traitor; but it is the general feeling of all

who have occasion for wicked men's service, as people have for the

poison of venomous beasts; they are glad of them while they are of use,

and abhor their baseness when it is over.  And so then did Tatius behave

towards Tarpeia, for he commanded the Sabines, in regard to their

contract, not to refuse her the least part of what they wore on their

left arms; and he himself first took his bracelet of his arm, and threw

that, together with his buckler, at her; and all the rest following,

she, being borne down and quite buried with the multitude of gold and

their shields, died under the weight and pressure of them; Tarpeius also

himself, being prosecuted by Romulus, was found guilty of treason, as

Juba says Sulpicius Galba relates.  Those who write otherwise concerning

Tarpeia, as that she was the daughter of Tatius, the Sabine captain,

and, being forcibly detained by Romulus, acted and suffered thus by her

father's contrivance, speak very absurdly, of whom Antigonus is one.

And Simylus, the poet, who thinks Tarpeia betrayed the Capitol, not to

the Sabines, but the Gauls, having fallen in love with their king, talks

mere folly, saying thus:—

Tarpeia 'twas, who, dwelling close thereby,

Laid open Rome unto the enemy.

She, for the love of the besieging Gaul,

Betrayed the city's strength, the Capitol.

And a little after, speaking of her death:—

The numerous nations of the Celtic foe

Bore her not living to the banks of Po;

Their heavy shields upon the maid they threw,

And with their splendid gifts entombed at once and slew.

Tarpeia afterwards was buried there, and the hill from her was called

Tarpeius, until the reign of king Tarquin, who dedicated the place to

Jupiter, at which time her bones were removed, and so it lost her name,

except only that part of the Capitol which they still call the Tarpeian

Rock, from which they used to cast down malefactors.

The Sabines being possessed of the hill, Romulus, in great fury, bade

them battle, and Tatius was confident to accept it, perceiving, if they

were overpowered, that they had behind them a secure retreat.  The level

in the middle, where they were to join battle, being surrounded with

many little hills, seemed to enforce both parties to a sharp and

desperate conflict, by reason of the difficulties of the place, which

had but a few outlets, inconvenient either for refuge or pursuit.  It

happened, too, the river having overflowed not many days before, there

was left behind in the plain, where now the forum stands, a deep blind

mud and slime, which, though it did not appear much to the eye, and was

not easily avoided, at bottom was deceitful and dangerous; upon which

the Sabines being unwarily about to enter, met with a piece of good

fortune; for Curtius, a gallant man, eager of honor, and of aspiring

thoughts, being mounted on horseback, was galloping on before the rest,

and mired his horse here, and, endeavoring for awhile by whip and spur

and voice to disentangle him, but finding it impossible, quitted him and

saved himself; the place from him to this very time is called the

Curtian Lake.  The Sabines, having avoided this danger, began the fight

very smartly, the fortune of the day being very dubious, though many

were slain; amongst whom was Hostilius, who, they say, was husband to

Hersilia, and grandfather to that Hostilius who reigned after Numa.

There were many other brief conflicts, we may suppose, but the most

memorable was the last, in which Romulus having received a wound on his

head by a stone, and being almost felled to the ground by it, and

disabled, the Romans gave way, and, being driven out of the level

ground, fled towards the Palatium.  Romulus, by this time recovering

from his wound a little, turned about to renew the battle, and, facing

the fliers, with a loud voice encouraged them to stand and fight.  But

being overborne with numbers, and nobody daring to face about,

stretching out his hands to heaven, he prayed to Jupiter to stop the

army, and not to neglect but maintain the Roman cause, now in extreme

danger.  The prayer was no sooner made, than shame and respect for their

king checked many; the fears of the fugitives changed suddenly into

confidence.  The place they first stood at was where now is the temple

of Jupiter Stator (which may be translated the Stayer); there they

rallied again into ranks, and repulsed the Sabines to the place called

now Regia, and to the temple of Vesta; where both parties, preparing to

begin a second battle, were prevented by a spectacle, strange to behold,

and defying description.  For the daughters of the Sabines, who had been

carried off, came running, in great confusion, some on this side, some

on that, with miserable cries and lamentations, like creatures

possessed, in the midst of the army, and among the dead bodies, to come

at their husbands and their fathers, some with their young babes in

their arms, others their hair loose about their ears, but all calling,

now upon the Sabines, now upon the Romans, in the most tender and

endearing words.  Hereupon both melted into compassion, and fell back,

to make room for them between the armies.  The sight of the women

carried sorrow and commiseration upon both sides into the hearts of all,

but still more their words, which began with expostulation and

upbraiding, and ended with entreaty and supplication.

"Wherein," say they, "have we injured or offended you, as to deserve

such sufferings, past and present?  We were ravished away unjustly and

violently by those whose now we are; that being done, we were so long

neglected by our fathers, our brothers, and countrymen, that time,

having now by the strictest bonds united us to those we once mortally

hated, has made it impossible for us not to tremble at the danger and

weep at the death of the very men who once used violence to us.  You did

not come to vindicate our honor, while we were virgins, against our

assailants; but do come now to force away wives from their husbands and

mothers from their children, a succor more grievous to its wretched

objects than the former betrayal and neglect of them.  Which shall we

call the worst, their love-making or your compassion?  If you were

making war upon any other occasion, for our sakes you ought to withhold

your hands from those to whom we have made you fathers-in-law and

grandsires.  If it be for our own cause, then take us, and with us your

sons-in-law and grandchildren.  Restore to us our parents and kindred,

but do not rob us of our children and husbands.  Make us not, we entreat

you, twice captives."  Hersilia having spoken many such words as these,

and the others earnestly praying, a truce was made, and the chief

officers came to a parley; the women, in the mean time, brought and

presented their husbands and children to their fathers and brothers;

gave those that wanted, meat and drink, and carried the wounded home to

be cured, and showed also how much they governed within doors, and how

indulgent their husbands were to them, in demeaning themselves towards

them with all kindness and respect imaginable.  Upon this, conditions

were agreed upon, that what women pleased might stay where they were,

exempt, as aforesaid, from all drudgery and labor but spinning; that the

Romans and Sabines should inhabit the city together; that the city

should be called Rome, from Romulus; but the Romans, Quirites, from the

country of Tatius; and that they both should govern and command in

common.  The place of the ratification is still called Comitium,

from coire, to meet.

The city being thus doubled in number, one hundred of the Sabines were

elected senators, and the legions were increased to six thousand foot

and six hundred horse; then they divided the people into three tribes;

the first, from Romulus, named Ramnenses; the second, from Tatius,

Tatienses; the third, Luceres, from the lucus, or grove, where the

Asylum stood, whither many fled for sanctuary, and were received into

the city.  And that they were just three, the very name of tribe and

tribune seems to show; each tribe contained ten curiae, or brotherhoods,

which, some say, took their names from the Sabine women; but that seems

to be false, because many had their names from various places.  Though

it is true, they then constituted many things in honor to the women; as

to give them the way wherever they met them; to speak no ill word in

their presence; not to appear naked before them, or else be liable to

prosecution before the judges of homicide; that their children should

wear an ornament about their necks called the bulla (because it was like

a bubble), and the praetexta, a gown edged with purple.

The princes did not immediately join in council together, but at first

each met with his own hundred; afterwards all assembled together.

Tatius dwelt where now the temple of Moneta stands, and Romulus, close

by the steps, as they call them, of the Fair Shore, near the descent

from the Mount Palatine to the Circus Maximus.  There, they say, grew

the holy cornel tree, of which they report, that Romulus once, to try

his strength, threw a dart from the Aventine Mount, the staff of which

was made of cornel, which struck so deep into the ground, that no one of

many that tried could pluck it up; and the soil, being fertile, gave

nourishment to the wood, which sent forth branches, and produced a

cornel-stock of considerable bigness.  This did posterity preserve and

worship as one of the most sacred things; and, therefore, walled it

about; and if to any one it appeared not green nor flourishing, but

inclining to pine and wither, he immediately made outcry to all he met,

and they, like people hearing of a house on fire, with one accord would

cry for water, and run from all parts with buckets full to the place.

But when Caius Caesar, they say, was repairing the steps about it, some

of the laborers digging too close, the roots were destroyed,

and the tree withered.

The Sabines adopted the Roman months, of which whatever is remarkable is

mentioned in the Life of Numa.  Romulus, on the other hand, adopted

their long shields, and changed his own armor and that of all the

Romans, who before wore round targets of the Argive pattern.  Feasts and

sacrifices they partook of in common, not abolishing any which either

nation observed before, and instituting several new ones; of which one

was the Matronalia, instituted in honor of the women.  for their

extinction of the war; likewise the Carmentalia.  This Carmenta some

think a deity presiding over human birth; for which reason she is much

honored by mothers.  Others say she was the wife of Evander, the

Arcadian, being a prophetess, and wont to deliver her oracles in verse,

and from carmen, a verse, was called Carmenta; her proper name being

Nicostrata.  Others more probably derive Carmenta from carens mente, or

insane, in allusion to her prophetic frenzies.  Of the Feast of Palilia

we have spoken before.  The Lupercalia, by the time of its celebration,

may seem to be a feast of purification, for it is solemnized on the dies

nefasti, or non-court days, of the month February, which name signifies

purification, and the very day of the feast was anciently called

Februata; but its name is equivalent to the Greek Lycaea; and it seems

thus to be of great antiquity, and brought in by the Arcadians who came

with Evander.  Yet this is but dubious, for it may come as well from the

wolf that nursed Romulus; and we see the Luperci, the priests, begin

their course from the place where they say Romulus was exposed.  But the

ceremonies performed in it render the origin of the thing more difficult

to be guessed at; for there are goats killed, then, two young noblemen's

sons being brought, some are to stain their foreheads with the bloody

knife, others presently to wipe it off with wool dipped in milk; then

the young boys must laugh after their foreheads are wiped; that done,

having cut the goats' skins into thongs, they run about naked, only with

something about their middle, lashing all they meet; and the young wives

do not avoid their strokes, fancying they will help conception and

child-birth.  Another thing peculiar to this feast is for the Luperci to

sacrifice a dog.  But as, a certain poet who wrote fabulous explanations

of Roman customs in elegiac verses, says, that Romulus and Remus, after

the conquest of Amulius, ran joyfully to the place where the wolf gave

them suck; and that in imitation of that, this feast was held,

and two young noblemen ran—

Striking at all, as when from Alba town,

With sword in hand, the twins came hurrying down;

and that the bloody knife applied to their foreheads was a sign of the

danger and bloodshed of that day; the cleansing of them in milk, a

remembrance of their food and nourishment.  Caius Acilius writes, that,

before the city was built, the cattle of Romulus and Remus one day going

astray, they, praying to the god Faunus, ran out to seek them naked,

wishing not to be troubled with sweat, and that this is why the Luperci

run naked.  If the sacrifice be by way of purification, a dog might very

well be sacrificed; for the Greeks, in their lustrations, carry out

young dogs, and frequently use this ceremony of periscylacismus as they

call it.  Or if again it is a sacrifice of gratitude to the wolf that

nourished and preserved Romulus, there is good reason in killing a dog,

as being an enemy to wolves.  Unless indeed, after all, the creature is

punished for hindering the Luperci in their running.

They say, too, Romulus was the first that consecrated holy fire, and

instituted holy virgins to keep it, called vestals; others ascribe it to

Numa Pompilius; agreeing, however, that Romulus was otherwise eminently

religious, and skilled in divination, and for that reason carried the

lituus, a crooked rod with which soothsayers describe the quarters of

the heavens, when they sit to observe the flights of birds.  This of

his, being kept in the Palatium, was lost when the city was taken by the

Gauls; and afterwards, that barbarous people being driven out, was found

in the ruins, under a great heap of ashes, untouched by the fire, all

things about it being consumed and burnt.  He instituted also certain

laws, one of which is somewhat severe, which suffers not a wife to leave

her husband, but grants a husband power to turn off his wife, either

upon poisoning her children; or counterfeiting his keys, or for

adultery; but if the husband upon any other occasion put her away, he

ordered one moiety of his estate to be given to the wife, the other to

fall to the goddess Ceres; and whoever cast off his wife, to make an

atonement by sacrifice to the gods of the dead.  This, too, is

observable as a singular thing in Romulus, that he appointed no

punishment for real parricide, but called all murder so, thinking the

one an accursed thing, but the other a thing impossible; and, for a long

time, his judgment seemed to have been right; for in almost six hundred

years together, nobody committed the like in Rome; and Lucius Hostius,

after the wars of Hanibal, is recorded to have been the first parricide.

Let thus much suffice concerning these matters.

In the fifth year of the reign of Tatius, some of his friends and

kinsmen, meeting ambassadors coming from Laurentum to Rome, attempted on

the road to take away their money by force, and, upon their resistance,

killed them.  So great a villainy having been committed, Romulus thought

the malefactors ought at once to be punished, but Tatius shuffled off

and deferred the execution of it; and this one thing was the beginning

of open quarrel between them; in all other respects they were very

careful of their conduct, and administered affairs together with great

unanimity.  The relations of the slain, being debarred of lawful

satisfaction by reason of Tatius, fell upon him as he was sacrificing

with Romulus at Lavinium, and slew him; but escorted Romulus home,

commending and extolling him for a just prince.  Romulus took the body

of Tatius, and buried it very splendidly in the Aventine Mount, near the

place called Armilustrium, but altogether neglected revenging his

murder.  Some authors write, the city of Laurentum, fearing the

consequence, delivered up the murderers of Tatius; but Romulus dismissed

them, saying, one murder was requited with another.  This gave occasion

of talk and jealousy, as if he were well pleased at the removal of his

copartner in the government.  Nothing of these things, however, raised

any sort of feud or disturbance among the Sabines; but some out of love

to him, others out of fear of his power, some again reverencing him as a

god, they all continued living peacefully in admiration and awe of him;

many foreign nations, too, showed respect to Romulus; the Ancient Latins

sent, and entered into league and confederacy with him.  Fidenae he

took, a neighboring city to Rome, by a party of horse, as some say, whom

he sent before with commands to cut down the hinges of the gates,

himself afterwards unexpectedly coming up.  Others say, they having

first made the invasion, plundering and ravaging the country and

suburbs, Romulus lay in ambush for them, and, having killed many of

their men, took the city; but, nevertheless, did not raze or demolish

it, but made it a Roman colony, and sent thither, on the Ides of April,

two thousand five hundred inhabitants.

Soon after a plague broke out, causing sudden death without any previous

sickness; it infected also the corn with unfruitfulness, and cattle with

barrenness; there rained blood, too, in the city; so that, to their

actual sufferings, fear of the wrath of the gods was added.  But when

the same mischiefs fell upon Laurentum, then everybody judged it was

divine vengeance that fell upon both cities, for the neglect of

executing justice upon the murder of Tatius and the ambassadors.  But

the murderers on both sides being delivered up and punished, the

pestilence visibly abated; and Romulus purified the cities with

lustrations, which, they say, even now are performed at the wood called

Ferentina.  But before the plague ceased, the Camertines invaded the

Romans and overran the country, thinking them, by reason of the

distemper, unable to resist; but Romulus at once made head against them,

and gained the victory, with the slaughter of six thousand men; then

took their city, and brought half of those he found there to Rome;

sending from Rome to Camerium double the number he left there.  This was

done the first of August.  So many citizens had he to spare, in sixteen

years' time from his first founding Rome.  Among other spoils, he took a

brazen four-horse chariot from Camerium, which he placed in the temple

of Vulcan, setting on it his own statue,

with a figure of Victory crowning him.

The Roman cause thus daily gathering strength, their weaker neighbors

shrunk away, and were thankful to be left untouched; but the stronger,

out of fear or envy, thought they ought not to give way to Romulus, but

to curb and put a stop to his growing greatness.  The first were the

Veientes, a people of Tuscany, who had large possessions, and dwelt in a

spacious city; they took occasion to commence a war, by claiming Fidenae

as belonging to them; a thing not only very unreasonable, but very

ridiculous, that they, who did not assist them in the greatest

extremities, but permitted them to be slain, should challenge their

lands and houses when in the hands of others.  But being scornfully

retorted upon by Romulus in his answers, they divided themselves into

two bodies; with one they attacked the garrison of Fidenae, the other

marched against Romulus; that which went against Fidenae got the

victory, and slew two thousand Romans; the other was worsted by Romulus,

with the loss of eight thousand men.  A fresh battle was fought near

Fidenae, and here all men acknowledge the day's success to have been

chiefly the work of Romulus himself, who showed the highest skill as

well as courage, and seemed to manifest a strength and swiftness more

than human.  But what some write, that, of fourteen thousand that fell

that day, above half were slain by Romulus's own hand, verges too near

to fable, and is, indeed, simply incredible; since even the Messenians

are thought to go too far in saying that Aristomenes three times offered

sacrifice for the death of a hundred enemies, Lacedaemonians, slain by

himself.  The army being thus routed, Romulus, suffering those that were

left to make their escape, led his forces against the city; they, having

suffered such great losses, did not venture to oppose, but, humbly suing

to him, made a league and friendship for an hundred years; surrendering

also a large district of land called Septempagium, that is, the seven

parts, as also their salt-works upon the river, and fifty noblemen for

hostages.  He made his triumph for this on the Ides of October, leading,

among the rest of his many captives, the general of the Veientes, an

elderly man, but who had not, it seemed, acted with the prudence of age;

whence even now, in sacrifices for victories, they lead an old man

through the market place to the Capitol, appareled in purple, with a

bulla, or child's toy, tied to it, and the crier cries, Sardians to be

sold; for the Tuscans are said to be a colony of the Sardians, and the

Veientes are a city of Tuscany.

This was the last battle Romulus ever fought; afterwards he, as most,

nay all men, very few excepted, do, who are raised by great and

miraculous good-haps of fortune to power and greatness, so, I say, did

he; relying upon his own great actions, and growing of an haughtier

mind, he forsook his popular behavior for kingly arrogance, odious to

the people; to whom in particular the state which he assumed was

hateful.  For he dressed in scarlet, with the purple-bordered robe over

it; he gave audience on a couch of state, having always about him some

young men called Celeres, from their swiftness in doing commissions;

there went before him others with staves, to make room, with leather

thongs tied on their bodies, to bind on the moment whomever he

commanded.  The Latins formerly used ligare in the same sense as now

alligare, to bind, whence the name lictors, for these officers, and

bacula, or staves, for their rods, because staves were then used.  It is

probable, however, they were first called litores, afterwards, by

putting in a c, lictores, or, in Greek, liturgi, or people's officers,

for leitos is still Greek for the commons,

and laos for the people in general.

But when, after the death of his grandfather Numitor in Alba, the throne

devolving upon Romulus, he, to court the people, put the government into

their own hands, and appointed an annual magistrate over the Albans,

this taught the great men of Rome to seek after a free and anti-

monarchical state, wherein all might in turn be subjects and rulers.

For neither were the patricians any longer admitted to state affairs,

only had the name and title left them, convening in council rather for

fashion's sake than advice, where they heard in silence the king's

commands, and so departed, exceeding the commonalty only in hearing

first what was done.  These and the like were matters of small moment;

but when he of his own accord parted among his soldiers what lands were

acquired by war, and restored the Veientes their hostages, the senate

neither consenting nor approving of it, then, indeed, he seemed to put a

great affront upon them; so that, on his sudden and strange

disappearance a short while after, the senate fell under suspicion and

calumny.  He disappeared on the Nones of July, as they now call the month

which was then Quintilis, leaving nothing of certainty to be related of

his death; only the time, as just mentioned, for on that day many

ceremonies are still performed in representation of what happened.

Neither is this uncertainty to be thought strange, seeing the manner of

the death of Scipio Africanus, who died at his own home after supper,

has been found capable neither of proof or disproof; for some say he

died a natural death, being of a sickly habit; others, that he poisoned

himself; others again, that his enemies, breaking in upon him in the

night, stifled him.  Yet Scipio's dead body lay open to be seen of all,

and any one, from his own observation, might form his suspicions and

conjectures; whereas Romulus, when he vanished, left neither the least

part of his body, nor any remnant of his clothes to be seen.  So that

some fancied, the senators, having fallen upon him ill the temple of

Vulcan, cut his body into pieces, and took each a part away in his

bosom; others think his disappearance was neither in the temple of

Vulcan, nor with the senators only by, but that, it came to pass that,

as he was haranguing the people without the city, near a place called

the Goat's Marsh, on a sudden strange and unaccountable disorders and

alterations took place in the air; the face of the sun was darkened, and

the day turned into night, and that, too, no quiet, peaceable night, but

with terrible thunderings, and boisterous winds from all quarters;

during which the common people dispersed and fled, but the senators kept

close together.  The tempest being over and the light breaking out, when

the people gathered again, they missed and inquired for their king; the

senators suffered them not to search, or busy themselves about the

matter, but commanded them to honor and worship Romulus as one taken up

to the gods, and about to be to them, in the place of a good prince, now

a propitious god.  The multitude, hearing this, went away believing and

rejoicing in hopes of good things from him; but there were some, who,

canvassing the matter in a hostile temper, accused and aspersed the

patricians, as men that persuaded the people to believe ridiculous

tales, when they themselves were the murderers of the king.

Things being in this disorder, one, they say, of the patricians, of

noble family and approved good character, and a faithful and familiar

friend of Romulus himself, having come with him from Alba, Julius

Proculus by name, presented himself in the forum; and, taking a most

sacred oath, protested before them all, that, as he was traveling on the

road, he had seen Romulus coming to meet him, looking taller and

comelier than ever, dressed in shining and faming armor; and he, being

affrighted at the apparition, said, "Why, O king, or for what purpose

have you abandoned us to unjust and wicked surmises, and the whole city

to bereavement and endless sorrow?" and that he made answer, "It

pleased the gods, O Proculus, that we, who came from them, should remain

so long a time amongst men as we did; and, having built a city to be the

greatest in the world for empire and glory, should again return to

heaven.  But farewell; and tell the Romans, that, by the exercise of

temperance and fortitude, they shall attain the height of human power;

we will be to you the propitious god Quirinus." This seemed credible to

the Romans, upon the honesty and oath of the relater, and indeed, too,

there mingled with it a certain divine passion, some preternatural

influence similar to possession by a divinity; nobody contradicted it,

but, laying aside all jealousies and detractions, they prayed to

Quirinus and saluted him as a god.

This is like some of the Greek fables of Aristeas the Proconnesian, and

Cleomedes the Astypalaean; for they say Aristeas died in a fuller's

work-shop, and his friends, coming to look for him, found his body

vanished; and that some presently after, coming from abroad, said they

met him traveling towards Croton.  And that Cleomedes, being an

extraordinarily strong and gigantic man, but also wild and mad,

committed many desperate freaks; and at last, in a school-house,

striking a pillar that sustained the roof with his fist, broke it in the

middle, so that the house fell and destroyed the children in it; and

being pursued, he fled into a great chest, and, shutting to the lid,

held it so fast, that many men, with their united strength, could not

force it open; afterwards, breaking the chest to pieces, they found no

man in it alive or dead; in astonishment at which, they sent to consult

the oracle at Delphi; to whom the prophetess made this answer,

Of all the heroes, Cleomede is last.

They say, too, the body of Alcmena, as they were carrying her to her

grave, vanished, and a stone was found lying on the bier.  And many such

improbabilities do your fabulous writers relate, deifying creatures

naturally mortal; for though altogether to disown a divine nature in

human virtue were impious and base, so again to mix heaven with earth is

ridiculous.  Let us believe with Pindar, that

All human bodies yield to Death's decree,

The soul survives to all eternity.

For that alone is derived from the gods, thence comes, and thither

returns; not with the body, but when most disengaged and separated from

it, and when most entirely pure and clean and free from the flesh; for

the most perfect soul, says Heraclitus, is a dry light, which flies out

of the body as lightning breaks from a cloud; but that which is clogged

and surfeited with body is like gross and humid incense, slow to kindle

and ascend.  We must not, therefore, contrary to nature, send the

bodies, too, of good men to heaven; but we must really believe that,

according to their divine nature and law, their virtue and their souls

are translated out of men into heroes, out of heroes into demi-gods, out

of demi-gods, after passing, as in the rite of initiation, through a

final cleansing and sanctification, and so freeing themselves from all

that pertains to mortality and sense, are thus, not by human decree, but

really and according to right reason, elevated into gods, admitted thus

to the greatest and most blessed perfection.

Romulus's surname Quirinus, some say, is equivalent to Mars; others,

that he was so called because the citizens were called Quirites; others,

because the ancients called a dart or spear Quiris; thus, the statue of

Juno resting on a spear is called Quiritis, and the dart in the Regia is

addressed as Mars, and those that were distinguished in war were usually

presented with a dart; that, therefore, Romulus, being a martial god, or

a god of darts, was called Quirinus.  A temple is certainly built to his

honor on the mount called from him Quirinalis.

The day he vanished on is called the Flight of the People, and the Nones

of the Goats, because they go then out of the city, and sacrifice at

the Goat's Marsh, and, as they go, they shout out some of the Roman

names, as Marcus, Lucius, Caius, imitating the way in which they then

fled and called upon one another in that fright and hurry.  Some,

however, say, this was not in imitation of a flight, but of a quick and

hasty onset, referring it to the following occasion: after the Gauls who

had taken Rome were driven out by Camillus, and the city was scarcely as

yet recovering her strength, many of the Latins, under the command of

Livius Postumius, took this time to march against her.  Postumius,

halting not far from Rome, sent a herald, signifying that the Latins

were desirous to renew their former alliance and affinity (that was now

almost decayed) by contracting new marriages between both nations; if,

therefore, they would send forth a good number of their virgins and

widows, they should have peace and friendship, such as the Sabines had

formerly had on the like conditions.  The Romans, hearing this, dreaded

a war, yet thought a surrender of their women little better than mere

captivity.  Being in this doubt, a servant-maid called Philotis (or, as

some say, Tutola), advised them to do neither, but, by a stratagem,

avoid both fighting and the giving up of such pledges.  The stratagem

was this, that they should send herself, with other well-looking

servant-maids, to the enemy, in the dress of free-born virgins, and she

should in the night light up a fire-signal, at which the Romans should

come armed and surprise them asleep.  The Latins were thus deceived, and

accordingly Philotis set up a torch in a wild fig-tree, screening it

behind with curtains and coverlets from the sight of the enemy, while

visible to the Romans.  They, when they saw it, eagerly ran out of the

gates, calling in their haste to each other as they went out, and so,

falling in unexpectedly upon the enemy, they defeated them, and upon

that made a feast of triumph, called the Nones of the Goats, because of

the wild fig-tree, called by the Romans Caprificus, or the goat-fig.

They feast the women without the city in arbors made of fig-tree boughs

and the maid-servants gather together and run about playing; afterwards

they fight in sport, and throw stones one at another, in memory that

they then aided and assisted the Roman men in fight.  This only a few

authors admit for true; For the calling upon one another's names by day

and the going out to the Goat's Marsh to do sacrifice seem to agree more

with the former story, unless, indeed, we shall say that both the

actions might have happened on the same day in different years.  It was

in the fifty-fourth year of his age and the thirty-eighth of his reign

that Romulus, they tell us, left the world.

COMPARISON OF ROMULUS WITH THESEUS

This is what I have learnt of Romulus and Theseus, worthy of memory.  It

seems, first of all, that Theseus, out of his own free-will, without any

compulsion, when he might have reigned in security at Troezen in the

enjoyment of no inglorious empire, of his own motion affected great

actions, whereas the other, to escape present servitude and a punishment

that threatened him, (according to Plato's phrase) grew valiant purely

out of fear, and dreading the extremest inflictions, attempted great

enterprises out of mere necessity.  Again, his greatest action was only

the killing of one king of Alba; while, as mere by-adventures and

preludes, the other can name Sciron, Sinnis, Procrustes, and Corynetes;

by reducing and killing of whom, he rid Greece of terrible oppressors,

before any of them that were relieved knew who did it; moreover, he

might without any trouble as well have gone to Athens by sea,

considering he himself never was in the least injured by those robbers;

where as Romulus could not but be in trouble whilst Amulius lived.  Add

to this the fact that Theseus, for no wrong done to himself, but for the

sake of others, fell upon these villains; but Romulus and Remus, as long

as they themselves suffered no ill by the tyrant, permitted him to

oppress all others.  And if it be a great thing to have been wounded in

battle by the Sabines, to have killed king Acron, and to have conquered

many enemies, we may oppose to these actions the battle with the

Centaurs and the feats done against the Amazons.  But what Theseus

adventured, in offering himself voluntarily with young boys and virgins,

as part of the tribute unto Crete, either to be a prey to a monster or a

victim upon the tomb of Androgeus, or, according to the mildest form of

the story, to live vilely and dishonorably in slavery to insulting and

cruel men; it is not to be expressed what an act of courage,

magnanimity, or justice to the public, or of love for honor and bravery,

that was.  So that methinks the philosophers did not ill define love to

be the provision of the gods for the care and preservation of the young;

for the love of Ariadne, above all, seems to have been the proper work

and design of some god in order to preserve Theseus; and, indeed, we

ought not to blame her for loving him, but rather wonder all men and

women were not alike affected towards him; and if she alone were so.

truly I dare pronounce her worthy of the love of a god, who was herself

so great a lover of virtue and goodness, and the bravest man.

Both Theseus and Romulus were by nature meant for governors; yet neither

lived up to the true character of a king, but fell off, and ran, the one

into popularity, the other into tyranny, falling both into the same

fault out of different passions.  For a ruler's first end is to maintain

his office, which is done no less by avoiding what is unfit than by

observing what is suitable.  Whoever is either too remiss or too strict

is no more a king or a governor, but either a demagogue or a despot, and

so becomes either odious or contemptible to his subjects.  Though

certainly the one seems to be the fault of easiness and good-nature, the

other of pride and severity.

If men's calamities, again, are not to be wholly imputed to fortune, but

refer themselves to differences of character, who will acquit either

Theseus of rash and unreasonable anger against his son, or Romulus

against his brother?  Looking at motives, we more easily excuse the

anger which a stronger cause, like a severer blow, provoked.  Romulus,

having disagreed with his brother advisedly and deliberately on public

matters, one would think could not on a sudden have been put into so

great a passion; but love and jealousy and the complaints of his wife,

which few men can avoid being moved by, seduced Theseus to commit that

outrage upon his son.  And what is more, Romulus, in his anger,

committed an action of unfortunate consequence; but that of Theseus

ended only in words, some evil speaking, and an old man's curse; the

rest of the youth's disasters seem to have proceeded from fortune; so

that, so far, a man would give his vote on Theseus's part.

But Romulus has, first of all, one great plea, that his performances

proceeded from very small beginnings; for both the brothers being

thought servants and the sons of swineherds, before becoming freemen

themselves, gave liberty to almost all the Latins, obtaining at once all

the most honorable titles, as destroyers of their country's enemies,

preservers of their friends and kindred, princes of the people, founders

of cities, not removers, like Theseus, who raised and compiled only one

house out of many, demolishing many cities bearing the names of ancient

kings and heroes.  Romulus, indeed, did the same afterwards, forcing his

enemies to deface and ruin their own dwellings, and to sojourn with

their conquerors; but at first, not by removal, or increase of an

existing city, but by foundation of a new one, he obtained himself

lands, a country, a kingdom, wives, children, and relations.  And, in so

doing, he killed or destroyed nobody, but benefited those that wanted

houses and homes and were willing to be of a society and become

citizens.  Robbers and malefactors he slew not; but he subdued nations,

he overthrew cities, he triumphed over kings and commanders.  As to

Remus, it is doubtful by whose hand he fell; it is generally imputed to

others.  His mother he clearly retrieved from death, and placed his

grandfather who was brought under base and dishonorable vassalage, on

the ancient throne of Aeneas, to whom he did voluntarily many good

offices, but never did him harm even inadvertently.  But Theseus, in his

forgetfulness and neglect of the command concerning the flag, can

scarcely, methinks, by any excuses, or before the most indulgent judges,

avoid the imputation of parricide.  And, indeed, one of the Attic

writers, perceiving it to be very hard to make an excuse for this,

feigns that Aegeus, at the approach of the ship, running hastily to the

Acropolis to see what news, slipped and fell down, as if he had no

servants, or none would attend him on his way to the shore.

And, indeed, the faults committed in the rapes of women admit of no

plausible excuse in Theseus.  First, because of the often repetition of

the crime; for he stole Ariadne, Antiope, Anaxo the Troezenian, at last

Helen, when he was an old man, and she not marriageable; she a child,

and he at an age past even lawful wedlock.  Then, on account of the

cause; for the Troezenian, Lacedaemonian, and Amazonian virgins, beside

that they were not betrothed to him, were not worthier to raise children

by than the Athenian women, derived from Erechtheus and Cecrops; but it

is to be suspected these things were done out of wantonness and lust.

Romulus, when he had taken near eight hundred women, chose not all, but

only Hersilia, as they say, for himself; the rest he divided among the

chief of the city; and afterwards, by the respect and tenderness and

justice shown towards them, he made it clear that this violence and

injury was a commendable and politic exploit to establish a society; by

which he intermixed and united both nations, and made it the fountain of

after friendship and public stability.  And to the reverence and love

and constancy he established in matrimony, time can witness; for in two

hundred and thirty years, neither any husband deserted his wife, nor any

wife her husband; but, as the curious among the Greeks can name the

first case of parricide or matricide, so the Romans all well know that

Spurius Carvilius was the first who put away his wife, accusing her of

barrenness.  The immediate results were similar; for upon those

marriages the two princes shared in the dominion, and both nations fell

under the same government.  But from the marriages of Theseus proceeded

nothing of friendship or correspondence for the advantage of commerce,

but enmities and wars and the slaughter of citizens, and, at last, the

loss of the city Aphidnae, when only out of the compassion of the enemy,

whom they entreated and caressed like gods, they escaped suffering what

Troy did by Paris.  Theseus's mother, however, was not only in danger,

but suffered actually what Hecuba did, deserted and neglected by her

son, unless her captivity be not a fiction, as I could wish both that

and other things were.  The circumstances of the divine intervention,

said to have preceded or accompanied their births, are also in contrast;

for Romulus was preserved by the special favor of the gods; but the

oracle given to Aegeus, commanding him to abstain, seems to demonstrate

that the birth of Theseus was not agreeable to the will of the gods.

LYCURGUS

There is so much uncertainty in the accounts which historians have left

us of Lycurgus, the lawgiver of Sparta, that scarcely anything is

asserted by one of them which is not called into question or

contradicted by the rest.  Their sentiments are quite different as to

the family he came of, the voyages he undertook, the place and manner of

his death, but most of all when they speak of the laws he made and the

commonwealth which he founded.  They cannot, by any means, be brought to

an agreement as to the very age in which he lived; for some of them say

that he flourished in the time of Iphitus, and that they two jointly

contrived the ordinance for the cessation of arms during the solemnity

of the Olympic games.  Of this opinion was Aristotle; and for

confirmation of it, he alleges an inscription upon one of the copper

quoits used in those sports, upon which the name of Lycurgus continued

uneffaced to his time.  But Eratosthenes and Apollodorus and other

chronologers, computing the time by the successions of the Spartan

kings, pretend to demonstrate that he was much more ancient than the

institution of the Olympic games.  Timaeus conjectures that there were

two of this name, and in diverse times, but that the one of them being

much more famous than the other, men gave to him the glory of the

exploits of both; the elder of the two, according to him, was not long

after Homer; and some are so particular as to say that he had seen him.

But that he was of great antiquity may be gathered from a passage in

Xenophon, where he makes him contemporary with the Heraclidae.  By

descent, indeed, the very last kings of Sparta were Heraclidae too; but

he seems in that place to speak of the first and more immediate

successors of Hercules.  But notwithstanding this confusion and

obscurity, we shall endeavor to compose the history of his life,

adhering to those statements which are least contradicted, and depending

upon those authors who are most worthy of credit.

The poet Simonides will have it that Lycurgus was the son of Prytanis,

and not of Eunomus; but in this opinion he is singular, for all the rest

deduce the genealogy of them both as follows:—

Aristodemus

Patrocles

Sous

Eurypon

Eunomus

—————————————————————

Polydectes by his first wife           Lycurgus by Dionassa his second.

Dieuchidas says he was the sixth from Patrocles and the eleventh from

Hercules.  Be this as it will, Sous certainly was the most renowned of

all his ancestors, under whose conduct the Spartans made slaves of the

Helots, and added to their dominions, by conquest, a good part of

Arcadia, There goes a story of this king Sous, that, being besieged by

the Clitorians in a dry and stony place so that he could come at no

water, he was at last constrained to agree with them upon these terms,

that he would restore to them all his conquests, provided that himself

and all his men should drink of the nearest spring.  After the usual

oaths and ratifications, he called his soldiers together, and offered to

him that would forbear drinking, his kingdom for a reward; and when not

a man of them was able to forbear, in short, when they had all drunk

their fill, at last comes king Sous himself to the spring, and, having

sprinkled his face only, without swallowing one drop, marches off in the

face of his enemies, refusing to yield up his conquests, because himself

and all his men had not, according to the articles,

drunk of their water.

Although he was justly had in admiration on this account, yet his family

was not surnamed from him, but from his son Eurypon (of whom they were

called Eurypontids); the reason of which was that Eurypon relaxed the

rigor of the monarchy, seeking favor and popularity with the many.

They, after this first step, grew bolder; and the succeeding kings

partly incurred hatred with their people by trying to use force, or, for

popularity's sake and through weakness, gave way; and anarchy and

confusion long prevailed in Sparta, causing, moreover, the death of the

father of Lycurgus.  For as he was endeavoring to quell a riot, he was

stabbed with a butcher's knife, and left the title of king

to his eldest son Polydectes.

He, too, dying soon after, the right of succession (as every one

thought) rested in Lycurgus; and reign he did, until it was found that

the queen, his sister-in-law, was with child; upon which he immediately

declared that the kingdom belonged to her issue, provided it were male,

and that he himself exercised the regal jurisdiction only as his

guardian; the Spartan name for which office is prodicus.  Soon after, an

overture was made to him by the queen, that she would herself in some

way destroy the infant, upon condition that he would marry her when he

came to the crown.  Abhorring the woman's wickedness, he nevertheless

did not reject her proposal, but, making show of closing with her,

dispatched the messenger with thanks and expressions of joy, but

dissuaded her earnestly from procuring herself to miscarry, which would

impair her health, if not endanger her life; he himself, he said, would

see to it, that the child, as soon as born, should be taken out of the

way.  By such artifices having drawn on the woman to the time of her

lying-in, as soon as he heard that she was in labor, he sent persons to

be by and observe all that passed, with orders that if it were a girl

they should deliver it to the women, but if a boy, should bring it to

him wheresoever he were, and whatsoever doing.  It so fell out that when

he was at supper with the principal magistrates the queen was brought to

bed of a boy, who was soon after presented to him as he was at the

table; he, taking him into his arms, said to those about him, "Men of

Sparta, here is a king born unto us;" this said, he laid him down in

the king's place, and named him Charilaus, that is, the joy of the

people; because that all were transported with joy and with wonder at

his noble and just spirit.  His reign had lasted only eight months, but

he was honored on other accounts by the citizens, and there were more

who obeyed him because of his eminent virtues, than because he was

regent to the king and had the royal power in his hands.  Some, however,

envied and sought to impede his growing influence while he was still

young; chiefly the kindred and friends of the queen mother, who

pretended to have been dealt with injuriously.  Her brother Leonidas, in

a warm debate which fell out betwixt him and Lycurgus, went so far as to

tell him to his face that he was well assured that ere long he should

see him king; suggesting suspicions and preparing the way for an

accusation of him, as though he had made away with his nephew, if the

child should chance to fail though by a natural death.  Words of the

like import were designedly cast abroad by the queen-mother

and her adherents.

Troubled at this, and not knowing what it might come to, he thought it

his wisest course to avoid their envy by a voluntary exile, and to

travel from place to place until his nephew came to marriageable years,

and, by having a son, had secured the succession; setting sail,

therefore, with this resolution, he first arrived at Crete, where,

having considered their several forms of government, and got an

acquaintance with the principal men amongst them, some of their laws he

very much approved of, and resolved to make use of them in his own

country; a good part he rejected as useless.  Amongst the persons there

the most renowned for their learning all their wisdom in state matters

was one Thales, whom Lycurgus, by importunities and assurances of

friendship, persuaded to go over to Lacedaemon; where, though by his

outward appearance and his own profession he seemed to be no other than

a lyric poet, in reality he performed the part of one of the ablest

lawgivers in the world.  The very songs which he composed were

exhortations to obedience and concord, and the very measure and cadence

of the verse, conveying impressions of order and tranquility, had so

great an influence on the minds of the listeners, that they were

insensibly softened and civilized, insomuch that they renounced their

private feuds and animosities, and were reunited in a common admiration

of virtue.  So that it may truly be said that Thales prepared the way

for the discipline introduced by Lycurgus.

From Crete he sailed to Asia, with design, as is said, to examine the

difference betwixt the manners and rules of life of the Cretans, which

were very sober and temperate, and those of the Ionians, a people of

sumptuous and delicate habits, and so to form a judgment; just as

physicians do by comparing healthy and diseased bodies.  Here he had the

first sight of Homer's works, in the hands, we may suppose, of the

posterity of Creophylus; and, having observed that the few loose

expressions and actions of ill example which are to be found in his

poems were much outweighed by serious lessons of state and rules of

morality, he set himself eagerly to transcribe and digest them into

order, as thinking they would be of good use in his own country.  They

had, indeed, already obtained some slight repute amongst the Greeks, and

scattered portions, as chance conveyed them, were in the hands of

individuals; but Lycurgus first made them really known.

The Egyptians say that he took a voyage into Egypt, and that, being much

taken with their way of separating the soldiery from the rest of the

nation, he transferred it from them to Sparta, a removal from contact

with those employed in low and mechanical occupations giving high

refinement and beauty to the state.  Some Greek writers also record

this.  But as for his voyages into Spain, Africa, and the Indies, and

his conferences there with the Gymnosophists, the whole relation, as far

as I can find, rests on the single credit of the Spartan Aristocrates,

the son of Hipparchus.

Lycurgus was much missed at Sparta, and often sent for, "for kings

indeed we have," they said, "who wear the marks and assume the titles of

royalty, but as for the qualities of their minds, they have nothing by

which they are to be distinguished from their subjects;" adding, that in

him alone was the true foundation of sovereignty to be seen, a nature

made to rule, and a genius to gain obedience.  Nor were the kings

themselves averse to see him back, for they looked upon his presence as

a bulwark against the insolencies of the people.

Things being in this posture at his return, he applied himself, without

loss of time, to a thorough reformation and resolved to change the whole

face of the commonwealth; for what could a few particular laws and a

partial alteration avail?  He must act as wise physicians do, in the

case of one who labors under a complication of diseases, by force of

medicines reduce and exhaust him, change his whole temperament, and then

set him upon a totally new regimen of diet.  Having thus projected

things, away he goes to Delphi to consult Apollo there; which having

done, and offered his sacrifice, he returned with that renowned oracle,

in which he is called beloved of God, and rather God than man; that his

prayers were heard, that his laws should be the best, and the

commonwealth which observed them the most famous in the world.

Encouraged by these things, he set himself to bring over to his side the

leading men of Sparta, exhorting them to give him a helping hand in his

great undertaking; he broke it first to his particular friends, and then

by degrees gained others, and animated them all to put his design in

execution.  When things were ripe for action, he gave order to thirty of

the principal men of Sparta to be ready armed at the market-place by

break of day, to the end that he might strike a terror into the opposite

party.  Hermippus hath set down the names of twenty of the most eminent

of them; but the name of him whom Lycurgus most confided in, and who was

of most use to him, both in making his laws and putting them in

execution, was Arthmiadas.  Things growing to a tumult, king Charilaus,

apprehending that it was a conspiracy against his person, took sanctuary

in the temple of Minerva of the Brazen House; but, being soon after

undeceived, and having taken an oath of them that they had no designs

against him, he quitted his refuge, and himself also entered into the

confederacy with them; of so gentle and flexible a disposition he was,

to which Archelaus, his brother-king, alluded, when, hearing him

extolled for his goodness, he said, "Who can say he is anything but

good? he is so even to the bad."

Amongst the many changes and alterations which Lycurgus made, the first

and of greatest importance was the establishment of the senate, which,

having a power equal to the kings' in matters of great consequence, and,

as Plato expresses it, allaying and qualifying the fiery genius of the

royal office, gave steadiness and safety to the commonwealth.  For the

state, which before had no firm basis to stand upon, but leaned one

while towards an absolute monarchy, when the kings had the upper hand,

and another while towards a pure democracy, when the people had the

better, found in this establishment of the senate a central weight, like

ballast in a ship, which always kept things in a just equilibrium; the

twenty-eight always adhering to the kings so far as to resist democracy,

and, on the other hand, supporting the people against the establishment

of absolute monarchy.  As for the determinate number of twenty-eight,

Aristotle states, that it so fell out because two of the original

associates, for want of courage, fell off from the enterprise; but

Sphaerus assures us that there were but twenty-eight of the confederates

at first; perhaps there is some mystery in the number, which consists of

seven multiplied by four, and is the first of perfect numbers after six,

being, as that is, equal to all its parts.  For my part, I believe

Lycurgus fixed upon the number of twenty-eight, that, the two kings

being reckoned amongst them, they might be thirty in all.  So eagerly

set was he upon this establishment, that he took the trouble to obtain

an oracle about it from Delphi, the Rhetra, which runs thus: "After that

you have built a temple to Jupiter Hellanius, and to Minerva Hellania,

and after that you have phyle'd the people phyles, and obe'd them into

obes, you shall establish a council of thirty elders, the leaders

included, and shall, from time to time, apellazein the people betwixt

Babyca and Cnacion, there propound and put to the vote.  The commons

have the final voice and decision. " By phyles and obes are meant the

divisions of the people; by the leaders, the two kings; apellazein,

referring to the Pythian Apollo, signifies to assemble; Babyca and

Cnacion they now call Oenus; Aristotle says Cnacion is a river, and

Babyca a bridge.  Betwixt this Babyca and Cnacion, their assemblies were

held, for they had no council-house or building, to meet in.  Lycurgus

was of opinion that ornaments were so far from advantaging them in their

counsels, that they were rather an hindrance, by diverting their

attention from the business before them to statues and pictures, and

roofs curiously fretted, the usual embellishments of such places amongst

the other Greeks.  The people then being thus assembled in the open air,

it was not allowed to any one of their order to give his advice, but

only either to ratify or reject what should be propounded to them by

the king or senate.  But because it fell out afterwards that the people,

by adding or omitting words, distorted and perverted the sense of

propositions, kings Polydorus and Theopompus inserted into the Rhetra,

or grand covenant, the following clause: "That if the people decide

crookedly, it should be lawful for the elders and leaders to dissolve;"

that is to say, refuse ratification, and dismiss the people as depravers

and perverters of their counsel.  It passed among the people, by their

management, as being equally authentic with the rest of the Rhetra, as

appears by these verses of Tyrtaeus,—

These oracles they from Apollo heard,

And brought from Pytho home the perfect word:

The heaven-appointed kings, who love the land,

Shall foremost in the nation's council stand;

The elders next to them; the commons last;

Let a straight Rhetra among all be passed.

Although Lycurgus had, in this manner, used all the qualifications

possible in the constitution of his commonwealth, yet those who

succeeded him found the oligarchical element still too strong and

dominant, and, to check its high temper and its violence, put, as Plato

says, a bit in its mouth, which was the power of the ephori, established

one hundred and thirty years after the death of Lycurgus.  Elatus and his

colleagues were the first who had this dignity conferred upon them, in

the reign of king Theopompus, who, when his queen upbraided him one day

that he would leave the regal power to his children less than he had

received it from his ancestors, said, in answer, "No, greater; for it

will last longer."  For, indeed, their prerogative being thus reduced

within reasonable bounds, the Spartan kings were at once freed from all

further jealousies and consequent danger, and never experienced the

calamities of their neighbors at Messene and Argos, who, by maintaining

their prerogative too strictly, for want of yielding a little to the

populace, lost it all.

Indeed, whosoever shall look at the sedition and misgovernment which

befell these bordering nations to whom they were as near related in

blood as situation, will find in them the best reason to admire the

wisdom and foresight of Lycurgus.  For these three states, in their

first rise, were equal, or, if there were any odds, they lay on the side

of the Messenians and Argives, who, in the first allotment, were thought

to have been luckier than the Spartans; yet was their happiness but of

small continuance, partly the tyrannical temper of their kings and

partly the ungovernableness of the people quickly bringing upon them

such disorders, and so complete an overthrow of all existing

institutions, as clearly to show how truly divine a blessing the

Spartans had had in that wise lawgiver who gave their government its

happy balance and temper.

But of this I shall say more in its due place.

After the creation of the thirty senators, his next task, and, indeed,

the most hazardous he ever undertook, was the making a new division of

their lands.  For there was an extreme inequality amongst them, and

their state was overloaded with a multitude of indigent and necessitous

persons, while its whole wealth had centered upon a very few.  To the

end, therefore, that he might expel from the state arrogance and envy,

luxury and crime, and those yet more inveterate diseases of want and

superfluity, he obtained of them to renounce their properties, and to

consent to a new division of the land, and that they should live all

together on an equal footing; merit to be their only road to eminence,

and the disgrace of evil, and credit of worthy acts, their one measure

of difference between man and man.

Upon their consent to these proposals, proceeding at once to put them

into execution, he divided the country of Laconia in general into thirty

thousand equal shares, and the part attached to the city of Sparta into

nine thousand; these he distributed among the Spartans, as he did the

others to the country citizens.  Some authors say that he made but six

thousand lots for the citizens of Sparta, and that king Polydorus added

three thousand more.  Others say that Polydorus doubled the number

Lycurgus had made, which, according to them, was but four thousand five

hundred.  A lot was so much as to yield, one year with another, about

seventy bushels of grain for the master of the family, and twelve for

his wife, with a suitable proportion of oil and wine.  And this he

thought sufficient to keep their bodies in good health and strength;

superfluities they were better without.  It is reported, that, as he

returned from a journey shortly after the division of the lands, in

harvest time, the ground being newly reaped, seeing the stacks all

standing equal and alike, he smiled, and said to those about him,

"Methinks all Laconia looks like one family estate just divided among a

number of brothers."

Not contented with this, he resolved to make a division of their

movables too, that there might be no odious distinction or inequality

left amongst them; but finding that it would be very dangerous to go

about it openly, he took another course, and defeated their avarice by

the following stratagem: he commanded that all gold and silver coin

should be called in, and that only a sort of money made of iron should

be current, a great weight and quantity of which was but very little

worth; so that to lay up twenty or thirty pounds there was required a

pretty large closet, and, to remove it, nothing less than a yoke of

oxen.  With the diffusion of this money, at once a number of vices were

banished from Lacedaemon; for who would rob another of such a coin?  Who

would unjustly detain or take by force, or accept as a bribe, a thing

which it was not easy to hide, nor a credit to have, nor indeed of any

use to cut in pieces?  For when it was just red hot, they quenched it in

vinegar, and by that means spoilt it,

and made it almost incapable of being worked.

In the next place, he declared an outlawry of all needless and

superfluous arts; but here he might almost have spared his proclamation;

for they of themselves would have gone after the gold and silver, the

money which remained being not so proper payment for curious work; for,

being of iron, it was scarcely portable, neither, if they should take

the pains to export it, would it pass amongst the other Greeks, who

ridiculed it.  So there was now no more means of purchasing foreign

goods and small wares; merchants sent no shiploads into Laconian ports;

no rhetoric-master, no itinerant fortune-teller, no harlot-monger or

gold or silversmith, engraver, or jeweler, set foot in a country which

had no money; so that luxury, deprived little by little of that which

fed and fomented it, wasted to nothing, and died away of itself.  For

the rich had no advantage here over the poor, as their wealth and

abundance had no road to come abroad by, but were shut up at home doing

nothing.  And in this way they became excellent artists in common,

necessary things; bedsteads, chairs, and tables, and such like staple

utensils in a family, were admirably well made there; their cup,

particularly, was very much in fashion, and eagerly bought up by

soldiers, as Critias reports; for its color was such as to prevent

water, drunk upon necessity and disagreeable to look at, from being

noticed; and the shape of it was such that the mud stuck to the sides,

so that only the purer part came to the drinker's mouth.  For this,

also, they had to thank their lawgiver, who, by relieving the artisans

of the trouble of making useless things, set them to show their skill in

giving beauty to those of daily and indispensable use.

The third and most masterly stroke of this great lawgiver, by which he

struck a yet more effectual blow against luxury and the desire of

riches, was the ordinance he made, that they should all eat in common,

of the same bread and same meat, and of kinds that were specified, and

should not spend their lives at home, laid on costly couches at splendid

tables, delivering themselves up into the hands of their tradesmen and

cooks, to fatten them in corners, like greedy brutes, and to ruin not

their minds only but their very bodies, which, enfeebled by indulgence

and excess, would stand in need of long sleep, warm bathing, freedom

from work, and, in a word, of as much care and attendance as if they

were continually sick.  It was certainly an extraordinary thing to have

brought about such a result as this, but a greater yet to have taken

away from wealth, as Theophrastus observes, not merely the property of

being coveted, but its very nature of being wealth.  For the rich, being

obliged to go to the same table with the poor, could not make use of or

enjoy their abundance, nor so much as please their vanity by looking at

or displaying it.  So that the common proverb, that Plutus, the god of

riches, is blind, was nowhere in all the world literally verified but in

Sparta.  There, indeed, he was not only blind, but like a picture,

without either life or motion.  Nor were they allowed to take food at

home first, and then attend the public tables, for every one had an eye

upon those who did not eat and drink like the rest, and reproached them

with being dainty and effeminate.

This last ordinance in particular exasperated the wealthier men.  They

collected in a body against Lycurgus, and from ill words came to

throwing stones, so that at length he was forced to run out of the

marketplace, and make to sanctuary to save his life; by good-hap he

outran all excepting one Alcander, a young man otherwise not ill

accomplished, but hasty and violent, who came up so close to him, that,

when he turned to see who was near him, he struck him upon the face with

his stick, and put out one of his eyes.  Lycurgus, so far from being

daunted and discouraged by this accident, stopped short, and showed his

disfigured face and eye beat out to his countrymen; they, dismayed and

ashamed at the sight, delivered Alcander into his hands to be punished,

and escorted him home, with expressions of great concern for his ill

usage.  Lycurgus, having thanked them for their care of his person,

dismissed them all, excepting only Alcander; and, taking him with him

into his house, neither did nor said anything severely to him, but,

dismissing those whose place it was bade Alcander to wait upon him at

table.  The young man who was of an ingenuous temper, without murmuring

did as he was commanded; and, being thus admitted to live with Lycurgus,

he had an opportunity to observe in him, besides his gentleness and

calmness of temper, an extraordinary sobriety and an indefatigable

industry, and so, from an enemy, became one of his most zealous

admirers, and told his friends and relations that Lycurgus was not that

morose and ill-natured man they had formerly taken him for, but the one

mild and gentle character of the world.  And thus did Lycurgus, for

chastisement of his fault, make of a wild and passionate young man one

of the discreetest citizens of Sparta.

In memory of this accident, Lycurgus built a temple to Minerva, surnamed

Optiletis; optilus being the Doric of these parts for ophthalmus, the

eye.  Some authors, however, of whom Dioscorides is one (who wrote a

treatise on the commonwealth of Sparta), say that he was wounded indeed,

but did not lose his eye with the blow; and that he built the temple in

gratitude for the cure.  Be this as it will, certain it is, that, after

this misadventure, the Lacedaemonians made it a rule never to carry so

much as a staff into their public assemblies.

But to return to their public repasts;—these had several names in

Greek; the Cretans called them andria, because the men only came to

them.  The Lacedaemonians called them phiditia, that is, by changing l

into d, the same as philitia, love feasts, because that, by eating and

drinking together, they had opportunity of making friends.  Or perhaps

from phido, parsimony, because they were so many schools of sobriety; or

perhaps the first letter is an addition, and the word at first was

editia, from edode, eating.  They met by companies of fifteen, more or

less, and each of them stood bound to bring in monthly a bushel of meal,

eight gallons of wine, five pounds of cheese, two pounds and a half of

figs, and some very small sum of money to buy flesh or fish with.

Besides this, when any of them made sacrifice to the gods, they always

sent a dole to the common hall; and, likewise, when any of them had been

a hunting, he sent thither a part of the venison he had killed; for

these two occasions were the only excuses allowed for supping at home.

The custom of eating together was observed strictly for a great while

afterwards; insomuch that king Agis himself, after having vanquished the

Athenians, sending for his commons at his return home, because he

desired to eat privately with his queen, was refused them by the

polemarchs; which refusal when he resented so much as to omit next day

the sacrifice due for a war happily ended, they made him pay a fine.

They used to send their children to these tables as to schools of

temperance; here they were instructed in state affairs by listening to

experienced statesmen; here they learnt to converse with pleasantry, to

make jests without scurrility, and take them without ill humor.  In this

point of good breeding, the Lacedaemonians excelled particularly, but if

any man were uneasy under it, upon the least hint given there was no

more to be said to him.  It was customary also for the eldest man in the

company to say to each of them, as they came in, "Through this"

(pointing to the door), "no words go out."  When any one had a desire to

be admitted into any of these little societies; he was to go through the

following probation, each man in the company took a little ball of soft

bread, which they were to throw into a deep basin, which a waiter

carried round upon his head; those that liked the person to be chosen

dropped their ball into the basin without altering its figure, and those

who disliked him pressed it between their fingers, and made it flat; and

this signified as much as a negative voice.  And if there were but one

of these pieces in the basin, the suitor was rejected, so desirous were

they that all the members of the company should be agreeable to each

other.  The basin was called caddichus, and the rejected candidate had a

name thence derived.  Their most famous dish was the black broth, which

was so much valued that the elderly men fed only upon that, leaving what

flesh there was to the younger.

They say that a certain king of Pontus, having heard much of this black

broth of theirs, sent for a Lacedaemonian cook on purpose to make him

some, but had no sooner tasted it than he found it extremely bad, which

the cook observing, told him, "Sir, to make this broth relish, you

should have bathed yourself first in the river Eurotas."

After drinking moderately, every man went to his home without lights,

for the use of them was, on all occasions, forbid, to the end that they

might accustom themselves to march boldly in the dark.  Such was the

common fashion of their meals.

Lycurgus would never reduce his laws into writing; nay, there is a

Rhetra expressly to forbid it.  For he thought that the most material

points, and such as most directly tended to the public welfare, being

imprinted on the hearts of their youth by a good discipline, would be

sure to remain, and would find a stronger security, than any compulsion

would be, in the principles of action formed in them by their best

lawgiver, education.  And as for things of lesser importance, as

pecuniary contracts, and such like, the forms of which have to be

changed as occasion requires, he thought it the best way to prescribe no

positive rule or inviolable usage in such cases, willing that their

manner and form should be altered according to the circumstances of

time, and determinations of men of sound judgment.  Every end and object

of law and enactment it was his design education should effect.

One, then, of the Rhetras was, that their laws should not be written;

another is particularly leveled against luxury and expensiveness, for by

it it was ordained that the ceilings of their houses should only be

wrought by the axe, and their gates and doors smoothed only by the saw.

Epaminondas's famous dictum about his own table, that "Treason and a

dinner like this do not keep company together," may be said to have been

anticipated by Lycurgus.  Luxury and a house of this kind could not well

be companions.  For a man must have a less than ordinary share of sense

that would furnish such plain and common rooms with silver-footed

couches and purple coverlets and gold and silver plate.  Doubtless he

had good reason to think that they would proportion their beds to their

houses, and their coverlets to their beds, and the rest of their goods

and furniture to these.  It is reported that king Leotychides, the first

of that name, was so little used to the sight of any other kind of work,

that, being entertained at Corinth in a stately room, he was much

surprised to see the timber and ceiling so finely carved and paneled,

and asked his host whether the trees grew so in his country.

A third ordinance or Rhetra was, that they should not make war often, or

long, with the same enemy, lest that they should train and instruct them

in war, by habituating them to defend themselves.  And this is what

Agesilaus was much blamed for, a long time after; it being thought,

that, by his continual incursions into Boeotia, he made the Thebans a

match for the Lacedaemonians; and therefore Antalcidas, seeing him

wounded one day, said to him, that he was very well paid for taking such

pains to make the Thebans good soldiers, whether they would or no.

These laws were called the Rhetras, to intimate that they were divine

sanctions and revelations.

In order to the good education of their youth (which, as I said before,

he thought the most important and noblest work of a lawgiver), he went

so far back as to take into consideration their very conception and

birth, by regulating their marriages.  For Aristotle is wrong in saying,

that, after he had tried all ways to reduce the women to more modesty

and sobriety, he was at last forced to leave them as they were, because

that, in the absence of their husbands, who spent the best part of their

lives in the wars, their wives, whom they were obliged to leave absolute

mistresses at home, took great liberties and assumed the superiority;

and were treated with overmuch respect and called by the title of lady

or queen.  The truth is, he took in their case, also, all the care that

was possible; he ordered the maidens to exercise themselves with

wrestling, running, throwing the quoit, and casting the dart, to the end

that the fruit they conceived might, in strong and healthy bodies, take

firmer root and find better growth, and withal that they, with this

greater vigor, might be the more able to undergo the pains of child-

bearing.  And to the end he might take away their over-great tenderness

and fear of exposure to the air, and all acquired womanishness, he

ordered that the young women should go naked in the processions, as well

as the young men, and dance, too, in that condition, at certain solemn

feasts, singing certain songs, whilst the young men stood around, seeing

and hearing them.  On these occasions, they now and then made, by jests,

a befitting reflection upon those who had misbehaved themselves in the

wars; and again sang encomiums upon those who had done any gallant

action, and by these means inspired the younger sort with an emulation

of their glory.  Those that were thus commended went away proud, elated,

and gratified with their honor among the maidens; and those who were

rallied were as sensibly touched with it as if they had been formally

reprimanded; and so much the more, because the kings and the elders, as

well as the rest of the city, saw and heard all that passed.  Nor was

there any thing shameful in this nakedness of the young women; modesty

attended them, and all wantonness was excluded.  It taught them

simplicity and a care for good health, and gave them some taste of

higher feelings, admitted as they thus were to the field of noble action

and glory.  Hence it was natural for them to think and speak as Gorgo,

for example, the wife of Leonidas, is said to have done, when some

foreign lady, as it would seem, told her that the women of Lacedaemon

were the only women of the world who could rule men; "With good

reason," she said, "for we are the only women who bring forth men."

These public processions of the maidens, and their appearing naked in

their exercises and dancings, were incitements to marriage, operating

upon the young with the rigor and certainty, as Plato says, of love, if

not of mathematics.  But besides all this, to promote it yet more

effectually, those who continued bachelors were in a degree

disfranchised by law; for they were excluded from the sight of those

public processions in which the young men and maidens danced naked, and,

in wintertime, the officers compelled them to march naked themselves

round the market-place, singing as they went a certain song to their own

disgrace, that they justly suffered this punishment for disobeying the

laws.  Moreover, they were denied that respect and observance which the

younger men paid their elders; and no man, for example, found fault with

what was said to Dercyllidas, though so eminent a commander; upon whose

approach one day, a young man, instead of rising, retained his seat,

remarking, "No child of yours will make room for me. "

In their marriages, the husband carried off his bride by a sort of

force; nor were their brides ever small and of tender years, but in

their full bloom and ripeness.  After this, she who superintended the

wedding comes and clips the hair of the bride close round her head,

dresses her up in man's clothes, and leaves her upon a mattress in the

dark; afterwards comes the bridegroom, in his every-day clothes, sober

and composed, as having supped at the common table, and, entering

privately into the room where the bride lies, unties her virgin zone,

and takes her to himself; and, after staying some time together, he

returns composedly to his own apartment, to sleep as usual with the

other young men.  And so he continues to do, spending his days, and,

indeed, his nights with them, visiting his bride in fear and shame, and

with circumspection, when he thought he should not be observed; she,

also, on her part, using her wit to help and find favorable

opportunities for their meeting, when company was out of the way.  In

this manner they lived a long time, insomuch that they sometimes had

children by their wives before ever they saw their faces by daylight.

Their interviews, being thus difficult and rare, served not only for

continual exercise of their self-control, but brought them together with

their bodies healthy and vigorous, and their affections fresh and

lively, unsated and undulled by easy access and long continuance with

each other; while their partings were always early enough to leave

behind unextinguished in each of them some remainder fire of longing and

mutual delight.  After guarding marriage with this modesty and reserve,

he was equally careful to banish empty and womanish jealousy.  For this

object, excluding all licentious disorders, he made it, nevertheless,

honorable for men to give the use of their wives to those whom they

should think fit, that so they might have children by them; ridiculing

those in whose opinion such favors are so unfit for participation as to

fight and shed blood and go to war about it.  Lycurgus allowed a man who

was advanced in years and had a young wife to recommend some virtuous

and approved young man, that she might have a child by him, who might

inherit the good qualities of the father, and be a son to himself.  On

the other side, an honest man who had love for a married woman upon

account of her modesty and the wellfavoredness of her children, might,

without formality, beg her company of her husband, that he might raise,

as it were, from this plot of good ground, worthy and well-allied

children for himself.  And, indeed, Lycurgus was of a persuasion that

children were not so much the property of their parents as of the whole

commonwealth, and, therefore, would not have his citizens begot by the

first comers, but by the best men that could be found; the laws of other

nations seemed to him very absurd and inconsistent, where people would

be so solicitous for their dogs and horses as to exert interest and pay

money to procure fine breeding, and yet kept their wives shut up, to be

made mothers only by themselves, who might be foolish, infirm, or

diseased; as if it were not apparent that children of a bad breed would

prove their bad qualities first upon those who kept and were rearing

them, and well-born children, in like manner, their good qualities.

These regulations, founded on natural and social grounds, were certainly

so far from that scandalous liberty which was afterwards charged upon

their women, that they knew not what adultery meant.  It is told, for

instance, of Geradas, a very ancient, Spartan, that, being asked by a

stranger what punishment their law had appointed for adulterers, he

answered, "There are no adulterers in our country."  "But," replied the

stranger, "suppose there were ?"  "Then," answered he, "the offender

would have to give the plaintiff a bull with a neck so long as that he

might drink from the top of Taygetus of the Eurotas river below it."

The man, surprised at this, said, "Why, 'tis impossible to find such a

bull."  Geradas smilingly replied, "'Tis as possible as to find an

adulterer in Sparta."  So much I had to say of their marriages.

Nor was it in the power of the father to dispose of the child as he

thought fit; he was obliged to carry it before certain triers at a place

called Lesche; these were some of the elders of the tribe to which the

child belonged; their business it was carefully to view the infant, and,

if they found it stout and well made, they gave order for its rearing,

and allotted to it one of the nine thousand shares of land above

mentioned for its maintenance, but, if they found it puny and ill-

shaped, ordered it to be taken to what was called the Apothetae, a sort

of chasm under Taygetus; as thinking it neither for the good of the

child itself, nor for the public interest, that it should be brought up,

if it did not, from the very outset, appear made to be healthy and

vigorous.  Upon the same account, the women did not bathe the new-born

children with water, as is the custom in all other countries, but with

wine, to prove the temper and complexion of their bodies; from a notion

they had that epileptic and weakly children faint and waste away upon

their being thus bathed, while, on the contrary, those of a strong and

vigorous habit acquire firmness and get a temper by it, like steel.

There was much care and art, too, used by the nurses; they had no

swaddling bands; the children grew up free and unconstrained in limb and

form, and not dainty and fanciful about their food; not afraid in the

dark, or of being left alone; without any peevishness or ill humor or

crying.  Upon this account, Spartan nurses were often bought up, or

hired by people of other countries; and it is recorded that she who

suckled Alcibiades was a Spartan; who, however, if fortunate in his

nurse, was not so in his preceptor; his guardian, Pericles, as Plato

tells us, chose a servant for that office called Zopyrus,

no better than any common slave.

Lycurgus was of another mind; he would not have masters bought out of

the market for his young Spartans, nor such as should sell their pains;

nor was it lawful, indeed, for the father himself to breed up the

children after his own fancy; but as soon as they were seven years old

they were to be enrolled in certain companies and classes, where they

all lived under the same order and discipline, doing their exercises and

taking their play together.  Of these, he who showed the most conduct

and courage was made captain; they had their eyes always upon him,

obeyed his orders, and underwent patiently whatsoever punishment he

inflicted; so that the whole course of their education was one continued

exercise of a ready and perfect obedience.  The old men, too, were

spectators of their performances, and often raised quarrels and disputes

among them, to have a good opportunity of finding out their different

characters, and of seeing which would be valiant, which a coward, when

they should come to more dangerous encounters.  Reading and writing they

gave them, just enough to serve their turn; their chief care was to make

them good subjects, and to teach them to endure pain and conquer in

battle.  To this end, as they grew in years, their discipline was

proportionably increased; their heads were close-clipped, they were

accustomed to go bare-foot, and for the most part to play naked.

After they were twelve years old, they were no longer allowed to wear

any under-garment; they had one coat to serve them a year; their bodies

were hard and dry, with but little acquaintance of baths and unguents;

these human indulgences they were allowed only on some few particular

days in the year.  They lodged together in little bands upon beds made

of the rushes which grew by the banks of the river Eurotas, which they

were to break off with their hands without a knife; if it were winter,

they mingled some thistle-down with their rushes, which it was thought

had the property of giving warmth.  By the time they were come to this

age, there was not any of the more hopeful boys who had not a lover to

bear him company.  The old men, too, had an eye upon them, coming often

to the grounds to hear and see them contend either in wit or strength

with one another, and this as seriously and with as much concern as if

they were their fathers, their tutors, or their magistrates; so that

there scarcely was any time or place without someone present to put

them in mind of their duty, and punish them if they had neglected it.

Besides all this, there was always one of the best and honestest men in

the city appointed to undertake the charge and governance of them; he

again arranged them into their several bands, and set over each of them

for their captain the most temperate and boldest of those they called

Irens, who were usually twenty years old, two years out of the boys; and

the eldest of the boys, again, were Mell-Irens, as much as to say, who

would shortly be men.  This young man, therefore, was their captain when

they fought, and their master at home, using them for the offices of his

house; sending the oldest of them to fetch wood, and the weaker and less

able, to gather salads and herbs, and these they must either go without

or steal; which they did by creeping into the gardens, or conveying

themselves cunningly and closely into the eating-houses; if they were

taken in the fact, they were whipped without mercy, for thieving so ill

and awkwardly.  They stole, too, all other meat they could lay their

hands on, looking out and watching all opportunities, when people were

asleep or more careless than usual.  If they were caught, they were not

only punished with whipping, but hunger, too, being reduced to their

ordinary allowance, which was but very slender, and so contrived on

purpose, that they might set about to help themselves, and be forced to

exercise their energy and address.  This was the principal design of

their hard fare; there was another not inconsiderable, that they might

grow taller; for the vital spirits, not being overburdened and oppressed

by too great a quantity of nourishment; which necessarily discharges

itself into thickness and breadth, do, by their natural lightness, rise;

and the body, giving and yielding because it is pliant, grows in height.

The same thing seems, also, to conduce to beauty of shape; a dry and

lean habit is a better subject for nature's configuration, which the

gross and over-fed are too heavy to submit to properly.  Just as we find

that women who take physic whilst they are with child, bear leaner and

smaller but better-shaped and prettier children; the material they come

of having been more pliable and easily molded.  The reason, however, I

leave others to determine.

To return from whence we have digressed.  So seriously did the

Lacedaemonian children go about their stealing, that a youth, having

stolen a young fox and hid it under his coat, suffered it to tear out

his very bowels with its teeth and claws, and died upon the place,

rather than let it be seen.  What is practiced to this very day in

Lacedaemon is enough to gain credit to this story, for I myself have

seen several of the youths endure whipping to death at the foot of the

altar of Diana surnamed Orthia.

The Iren, or under-master, used to stay a little with them after supper,

and one of them he bade to sing a song, to another he put a question

which required an advised and deliberate answer; for example, Who was

the best man in the city?  What he thought of such an action of such a

man?  They used them thus early to pass a right judgment upon persons and

things, and to inform themselves of the abilities or defects of their

countrymen.  If they had not an answer ready to the question Who was a

good or who an ill-reputed citizen, they were looked upon as of a dull

and careless disposition, and to have little or no sense of virtue and

honor; besides this, they were to give a good reason for what they said,

and in as few words and as comprehensive as might be; he that failed of

this, or answered not to the purpose, had his thumb bit by his master.

Sometimes the Iren did this in the presence of the old men and

magistrates, that they might see whether he punished them justly and in

due measure or not; and when he did amiss, they would not reprove him

before the boys, but, when they were gone, he was called to an account

and underwent correction, if he had run far into either of the extremes

of indulgence or severity.

Their lovers and favorers, too, had a share in the young boy's honor or

disgrace; and there goes a story that one of them was fined by the

magistrates, because the lad whom he loved cried out effeminately as he

was fighting.  And though this sort of love was so approved among them,

that the most virtuous matrons would make professions of it to young

girls, yet rivalry did not exist, and if several men's fancies met in

one person, it was rather the beginning of an intimate friendship,

whilst they all jointly conspired to render the object of their

affection as accomplished as possible.

They taught them, also, to speak with a natural and graceful raillery,

and to comprehend much matter of thought in few words.  For Lycurgus,

who ordered, as we saw, that a great piece of money should be but of an

inconsiderable value, on the contrary would allow no discourse to be

current which did not contain in few words a great deal of useful and

curious sense; children in Sparta, by a habit of long silence, came to

give just and sententious answers; for, indeed, as loose and incontinent

livers are seldom fathers of many children, so loose and incontinent

talkers seldom originate many sensible words.  King Agis, when some

Athenian laughed at their short swords, and said that the jugglers on

the stage swallowed them with ease, answered him, "We find them long

enough to reach our enemies with;" and as their swords were short and

sharp, so, it seems to me, were their sayings.  They reach the point and

arrest the attention of the hearers better than any.  Lycurgus himself

seems to have been short and sententious, if we may trust the anecdotes

of him; as appears by his answer to one who by all means would set up

democracy in Lacedaemon.  "Begin, friend," said he, "and set it up in

your family."  Another asked him why he allowed of such mean and trivial

sacrifices to the gods.  He replied, "That we may always have something

to offer to them."  Being asked what sort of martial exercises or

combats he approved of, he answered, "All sorts, except that in which

you stretch out your hands."  Similar answers, addressed to his

countrymen by letter, are ascribed to him; as, being consulted how they

might best oppose an invasion of their enemies, he returned this answer,

"By continuing poor, and not coveting each man to be greater than his

fellow."  Being consulted again whether it were requisite to enclose the

city with a wall, he sent them word, "The city is well fortified which

hath a wall of men instead of brick."  But whether these letters are

counterfeit or not is not easy to determine.

Of their dislike to talkativeness, the following apothegms are evidence.

King Leonidas said to one who held him in discourse upon some useful

matter, but not in due time and place, "Much to the purpose, Sir,

elsewhere."  King Charilaus, the nephew of Lycurgus, being asked why his

uncle had made so few laws, answered, "Men of few words require but few

laws."  When one blamed Hecataeus the sophist because that, being

invited to the public table, he had not spoken one word all supper-time,

Archidamidas answered in his vindication, "He who knows how to speak,

knows also when. "

The sharp and yet not ungraceful retorts which I mentioned may be

instanced as follows.  Demaratus, being asked in a troublesome manner by

an importunate fellow, Who was the best man in Lacedaemon? answered at

last, "He, Sir, that is the least like you."  Some, in company where

Agis was, much extolled the Eleans for their just and honorable

management of the Olympic tames; "Indeed," said Agis, "they are highly

to be commended if they can do justice one day in five years."

Theopompus answered a stranger who talked much of his affection to the

Lacedaemonians, and said that his countrymen called him Philolacon (a

lover of the Lacedaemonians), that it had been more for his honor if

they had called him Philopolites (a lover of his own countrymen).  And

Plistoanax, the son of Pausanias, when an orator of Athens said the

Lacedaemonians had no learning, told him, "You say true, Sir; we alone

of all the Greeks have learned none of your bad qualities."  One asked

Archidamidas what number there might, be of the Spartans; he answered,

"Enough, Sir, to keep out wicked men."

We may see their character, too, in their very jests.  For they did not

throw them out at random, but the very wit of them was grounded upon

something or other worth thinking about.  For instance, one, being asked

to go hear a man who exactly counterfeited the voice of a nightingale,

answered, "Sir, I have heard the nightingale itself."  Another, having

read the following inscription upon a tomb,

Seeking to quench a cruel tyranny,

They, at Selinus, did in battle die,

said, it served them right; for instead of trying to quench the tyranny

they should have let it burn out.  A lad, being offered some game-cocks

that would die upon the spot, said that he cared not for cocks that

would die, but for such that would live and kill others.  Another,

seeing people easing themselves on seats, said, "God forbid I should

sit where I could not get up to salute my elders."  In short, their

answers were so sententious and pertinent, that one said well that

intellectual much more truly than athletic exercise

was the Spartan characteristic.

Nor was their instruction in music and verse less carefully attended to

than their habits of grace and good breeding in conversation.  And their

very songs had a life and spirit in them that inflamed and possessed

men's minds with an enthusiasm and ardor for action; the style of them

was plain and without affectation; the subject always serious and moral;

most usually, it was in praise of such men as had died in defense of

their country, or in derision of those that had been cowards; the former

they declared happy and glorified; the life of the latter they described

as most miserable and abject.  There were also vaunts of what they would

do, and boasts of what they had done, varying with the various ages, as,

for example, they had three choirs in their solemn festivals, the first

of the old men, the second of the young men, and the last of the

children; the old men began thus:

We once were young, and brave and strong;

the young men answered them, singing,

And we're so now, come on and try;

the children came last and said,

But we'll be strongest by and by.

Indeed, if we will take the pains to consider their compositions, some

of which were still extant in our days, and the airs on the flute to

which they marched when going to battle, we shall find that Terpander

and Pindar had reason to say that music and valor were allied.  The

first says of Lacedaemon—

The spear and song in her do meet,

And Justice walks about her street;

and Pindar—

Councils of wise elders here,

And the young men's conquering spear,

And dance, and song, and joy appear;

both describing the Spartans as no less musical than warlike; in the

words of one of their own poets—

With the iron stern and sharp

Comes the playing on the harp.

For, indeed, before they engaged in battle, the king first did sacrifice

to the Muses, in all likelihood to put them in mind of the manner of

their education, and of the judgment that would be passed upon their

actions, and thereby to animate them to the performance of exploits that

should deserve a record.  At such times, too, the Lacedaemonians abated

a little the severity of their manners in favor of their young men,

suffering them to curl and adorn their hair, and to have costly arms,

and fine clothes; and were well pleased to see them, like proud horses,

neighing and pressing to the course.  And therefore, as soon as they

came to be well-grown, they took a great deal of care of their hair, to

have it parted and trimmed, especially against a day of battle, pursuant

to a saying recorded of their lawgiver, that a large head of hair added

beauty to a good face, and terror to an ugly one.

When they were in the field, their exercises were generally more

moderate, their fare not so hard, nor so strict a hand held over them by

their officers, so that they were the only people in the world to whom

war gave repose.  When their army was drawn up in battle array and the

enemy near, the king sacrificed a goat, commanded the soldiers to set

their garlands upon their heads, and the pipers to play the tune of the

hymn to Castor, and himself began the paean of advance.  It was at once

a magnificent and a terrible sight to see them march on to the tune of

their flutes, without any disorder in their ranks, any discomposure in

their minds or change in their countenance, calmly and cheerfully moving

with the music to the deadly fight.  Men, in this temper, were not

likely to be possessed with fear or any transport of fury, but with the

deliberate valor of hope and assurance, as if some divinity were

attending and conducting them.  The king had always about his person

some one who had been crowned in the Olympic games; and upon this

account a Lacedaemonian is said to have refused a considerable present,

which was offered to him upon condition that he would not come into the

lists; and when he had with much to-do thrown his antagonist, some of

the spectators saying to him, "And now, Sir Lacedaemonian, what are you

the better for your victory?" he answered smiling, "I shall fight next

the king."  After they had routed an enemy, they pursued him till they

were well assured of the victory, and then they sounded a retreat,

thinking it base and unworthy of a Grecian people to cut men in pieces,

who had given up and abandoned all resistance.  This manner of dealing

with their enemies did not only show magnanimity, but was politic too;

for, knowing that they killed only those who made resistance, and gave

quarter to the rest, men generally thought it their best way to consult

their safety by flight.

Hippias the sophist says that Lycurgus himself was a great soldier and

an experienced commander.  Philostephanus attributes to him the first

division of the cavalry into troops of fifties in a square body; but

Demetrius the Phalerian says quite the contrary, and that he made all

his laws in a continued peace.  And, indeed, the Olympic holy truce, or

cessation of arms, that was procured by his means and management,

inclines me to think him a kind-natured man, and one that loved

quietness and peace.  Notwithstanding all this, Hermippus tells us that

he had no hand in the ordinance; that Iphitus made it, and Lycurgus came

only as a spectator, and that by mere accident too.  Being there, he

heard as it were a man's voice behind him, blaming and wondering at him

that he did not encourage his countrymen to resort to the assembly, and,

turning about and seeing no man, concluded that it was a voice from

heaven, and upon this immediately went to Iphitus, and assisted him in

ordering the ceremonies of that feast, which, by his means, were better

established, and with more repute than before.

To return to the Lacedaemonians.  Their discipline continued still after

they were full-grown men.  No one was allowed to live after his own

fancy; but the city was a sort of camp, in which every man had his share

of provisions and business set out, and looked upon himself not so much

born to serve his own ends as the interest of his country.  Therefore,

if they were commanded nothing else, they went to see the boys perform

their exercises, to teach them something useful, or to learn it

themselves of those who knew better.  And, indeed, one of the greatest

and highest blessings Lycurgus procured his people was the abundance of

leisure, which proceeded from his forbidding to them the exercise of any

mean and mechanical trade.  Of the money-making that depends on

troublesome going about and seeing people and doing business, they had

no need at all in a state where wealth obtained no honor or respect.

The Helots tilled their ground for them, and paid them yearly in kind

the appointed quantity, without any trouble of theirs.  To this purpose

there goes a story of a Lacedaemonian who, happening to be at Athens

when the courts were sitting, was told of a citizen that had been fined

for living an idle life, and was being escorted home in much distress of

mind by his condoling friends; the Lacedaemonian was much surprised at

it, and desired his friend to show him the man who was condemned for

living like a freeman.  So much beneath them did they esteem the

frivolous devotion of time and attention to the mechanical arts

and to money-making.

It need not be said, that, upon the prohibition of gold and silver, all

lawsuits immediately ceased, for there was now neither avarice nor

poverty amongst them, but equality, where every one's wants were

supplied, and independence, because those wants were so small.  All

their time, except when they were in the field, was taken up by the

choral dances and the festivals, in hunting, and in attendance on the

exercise-grounds and the places of public conversation.  Those who were

under thirty years of age were not allowed to go into the marketplace,

but had the necessaries of their family supplied by the care of their

relations and lovers; nor was it for the credit of elderly men to be

seen too often in the marketplace; it was esteemed more suitable for

them to frequent the exercise-grounds and places of conversation, where

they spent their leisure rationally in conversation, not on money-making

and market-prices, but for the most part in passing judgment on some

action worth considering; extolling the good, and censuring those who

were otherwise, and that in a light and sportive manner, conveying,

without too much gravity, lessons of advice and improvement.  Nor was

Lycurgus himself unduly austere; it was he who dedicated, says Sosibius,

the little statue of Laughter.  Mirth, introduced seasonably at their

suppers and places of common entertainment, was to serve as a sort of

sweetmeat to accompany their strict and hard life.  To conclude, he bred

up his citizens in such a way that they neither would nor could live by

themselves; they were to make themselves one with the public good, and,

clustering like bees around their commander, be by their zeal and public

spirit carried all but out of themselves, and devoted wholly to their

country.  What their sentiments were will better appear by a few of

their sayings.  Paedaretus, not being admitted into the list of the

three hundred, returned home with a joyful face, well pleased to find

that there were in Sparta three hundred better men than himself.  And

Polycratidas, being sent with some others ambassador to the lieutenants

of the king of Persia, being asked by them whether they came in a

private or in a public character, answered, "In a public, if we

succeed; if not, in a private character."  Argileonis, asking some who

came from Amphipolis if her son Brasidas died courageously and as became

a Spartan, on their beginning to praise him to a high degree, and saying

there was not such another left in Sparta, answered, "Do not say so;

Brasidas was a good and brave man,

but there are in Sparta many better than he."

The senate, as I said before, consisted of those who were Lycurgus's

chief aiders and assistants in his plans.  The vacancies he ordered to be

supplied out of the best and most deserving men past sixty years old;

and we need not wonder if there was much striving for it; for what more

glorious competition could there be amongst men, than one in which it

was not contested who was swiftest among the swift or strongest of the

strong, but who of many wise and good was wisest and best, and fittest

to be entrusted for ever after, as the reward of his merits, with the

supreme authority of the commonwealth, and with power over the lives,

franchises, and highest interests of all his countrymen?  The manner of

their election was as follows: the people being called together, some

selected persons were locked up in a room near the place of election, so

contrived that they could neither see nor be seen, but could only hear

the noise of the assembly without; for they decided this, as most other

affairs of moment, by the shouts of the people.  This done, the

competitors were not brought in and presented all together, but one

after another by lot, and passed in order through the assembly without

speaking a word.  Those who were locked up had writing-tables with them,

in which they recorded and marked each shout by its loudness, without

knowing in favor of which candidate each of them was made, but merely

that they came first, second, third, and so forth.  He who was found to

have the most and loudest acclamations was declared senator duly

elected.  Upon this he had a garland set upon his head, and went in

procession to all the temples to give thanks to the gods; a great number

of young men followed him with applauses, and women, also, singing verses

in his honor, and extolling the virtue and happiness of his life.  As he

went round the city in this manner, each of his relations and friends

set a table before him, saying, "The city honors you with this

banquet;" but he, instead of accepting, passed round to the common table

where he formerly used to eat; and was served as before, excepting that

now he had a second allowance, which he took and put by.  By the time

supper was ended, the women who were of kin to him had come about the

door; and he, beckoning to her whom he most esteemed, presented to her

the portion he had saved, saying, that it had been a mark of esteem to

him, and was so now to her; upon which she was triumphantly waited upon

home by the women.

Touching burials, Lycurgus made very wise regulations; for, first of

all, to cut of all superstition, he allowed them to bury their dead

within the city, and even round about their temples, to the end that

their youth might be accustomed to such spectacles, and not be afraid to

see a dead body, or imagine that to touch a corpse or to tread upon a

grave would defile a man.  In the next place, he commanded them to put

nothing into the ground with them, except, if they pleased, a few olive

leaves, and the scarlet cloth that they were wrapped in.  He would not

suffer the names to be inscribed, except only of men who fell in the

wars, or women who died in a sacred office.  The time, too, appointed

for mourning, was very short, eleven days; on the twelfth, they were to

do sacrifice to Ceres, and leave it off; so that we may see, that as he

cut off all superfluity, so in things necessary there was nothing so

small and trivial which did not express some homage of virtue or scorn

of vice.  He filled Lacedaemon all through with proofs and examples of

good conduct; with the constant sight of which from their youth up, the

people would hardly fail to be gradually formed and advanced in virtue.

And this was the reason why he forbade them to travel abroad, and go

about acquainting themselves with foreign rules of morality, the habits

of ill-educated people, and different views of government.  Withal he

banished from Lacedaemon all strangers who could not give a very good

reason for their coming thither; not because he was afraid lest they

should inform themselves of and imitate his manner of government (as

Thucydides says), or learn any thing to their good; but rather lest they

should introduce something contrary to good manners.  With strange

people, strange words must be admitted; these novelties produce

novelties in thought; and on these follow views and feelings whose

discordant character destroys the harmony of the state.  He was as

careful to save his city from the infection of foreign bad habits, as

men usually are to prevent the introduction of a pestilence.

Hitherto I, for my part, see no sign of injustice or want of equity in

the laws of Lycurgus, though some who admit them to be well contrived to

make good soldiers, pronounce them defective in point of justice.  The

Cryptia, perhaps (if it were one of Lycurgus's ordinances, as Aristotle

says it was), Gave both him and Plato, too, this opinion alike of the

lawgiver and his government.  By this ordinance, the magistrates

dispatched privately some of the ablest of the young men into the

country, from time to time, armed only with their daggers, and taking a

little necessary provision with them; in the daytime, they hid

themselves in out-of-the-way places, and there lay close, but, in the

night, issued out into the highways, and killed all the Helots they

could light upon; sometimes they set upon them by day, as they were at

work in the fields, and murdered them.  As, also, Thucydides, in his

history of the Peloponnesian war, tells us, that a good number of them,

after being singled out for their bravery by the Spartans, garlanded, as

enfranchised persons, and led about to all the temples in token of

honors, shortly after disappeared all of a sudden, being about the

number of two thousand; and no man either then or since could give an

account how they came by their deaths.  And Aristotle, in particular,

adds, that the ephori, so soon as they were entered into their office,

used to declare war against them, that they might be massacred without a

breach of religion.  It is confessed, on all hands, that the Spartans

dealt with them very hardly; for it was a common thing to force them to

drink to excess, and to lead them in that condition into their public

halls, that the children might see what a sight a drunken man is; they

made them to dance low dances, and sing ridiculous songs, forbidding

them expressly to meddle with any of a better kind.  And, accordingly,

when the Thebans made their invasion into Laconia, and took a great

number of the Helots, they could by no means persuade them to sing the

verses of Terpander, Alcman, or Spendon, "For," said they, "the masters

do not like it."  So that it was truly observed by one, that in Sparta

he who was free was most so, and he that was a slave there, the greatest

slave in the world.  For my part, I am of opinion that these outrages

and cruelties began to be exercised in Sparta at a later time,

especially after the great earthquake, when the Helots made a general

insurrection, and, joining with the Messenians, laid the country waste,

and brought the greatest danger upon the city.  For I cannot persuade

myself to ascribe to Lycurgus so wicked and barbarous a course, judging

of him from the gentleness of his disposition and justice upon all other

occasions; to which the oracle also testified.

When he perceived that his more important institutions had taken root in

the minds of his countrymen, that custom had rendered them familiar and

easy, that his commonwealth was now grown up and able to go alone, then,

as, Plato somewhere tells us, the Maker of the world, when first he saw

it existing and beginning its motion, felt joy, even so Lycurgus,

viewing with joy and satisfaction the greatness and beauty of his

political structure, now fairly at work and in motion, conceived the

thought to make it immortal too, and, as far as human forecast could

reach, to deliver it down unchangeable to posterity.  He called an

extraordinary assembly of all the people, and told them that he now

thought every thing reasonably well established, both for the happiness

and the virtue of the state; but that there was one thing still behind,

of the greatest importance, which he thought not fit to impart until he

had consulted the oracle; in the meantime, his desire was that they

would observe the laws without any the least alteration until his

return, and then he would do as the god should direct him.  They all

consented readily, and bade him hasten his journey; but, before he

departed, he administered an oath to the two kings, the senate, and the

whole commons, to abide by and maintain the established form of polity

until Lycurgus should be come back.  This done, he set out for Delphi,

and, having sacrificed to Apollo, asked him whether the laws he had

established were good, and sufficient for a people's happiness and

virtue.  The oracle answered that the laws were excellent, and that the

people, while it observed them, should live in the height of renown.

Lycurgus took the oracle in writing, and sent it over to Sparta; and,

having sacrificed the second time to Apollo, and taken leave of his

friends and his son, he resolved that the Spartans should not be

released from the oath they had taken, and that he would, of his own

act, close his life where he was.  He was now about that age in which

life was still tolerable, and yet might be quitted without regret.

Every thing, moreover, about him was in a sufficiently prosperous

condition.  He, therefore, made an end of himself by a total abstinence

from food; thinking it a statesman's duty to make his very death, if

possible, an act of service to the state, and even in the end of his

life to give some example of virtue and effect some useful purpose.  He

would, on the one hand, crown and consummate his own happiness by a

death suitable to so honorable a life, and, on the other, would secure

to his countrymen the enjoyment of the advantages he had spent his life

in obtaining for them, since they had solemnly sworn the maintenance of

his institutions until his return.  Nor was he deceived in his

expectations, for the city of Lacedaemon continued the chief city of all

Greece for the space of five hundred years, in strict observance of

Lycurgus's laws; in all which time there was no manner of alteration

made, during the reign of fourteen kings, down to the time of Agis, the

son of Archidamus.  For the new creation of the ephori, though thought

to be in favor of the people, was so far from diminishing, that it very

much heightened, the aristocratical character of the government.

In the time of Agis, gold and silver first flowed into Sparta, and with

them all those mischiefs which attend the immoderate desire of riches.

Lysander promoted this disorder; for, by bringing in rich spoils from

the wars, although himself incorrupt, he yet by this means filled his

country with avarice and luxury, and subverted the laws and ordinances

of Lycurgus; so long as which were in force, the aspect presented by

Sparta was rather that of a rule of life followed by one wise and

temperate man, than of the political government of a nation.  And as the

poets feign of Hercules, that, with his lion's skin and his club, he

went over the world, punishing lawless and cruel tyrants, so may it be

said of the Lacedaemonians, that, with a common staff and a coarse

coat, they gained the willing and joyful obedience of Greece, through

whose whole extent they suppressed unjust usurpations and despotisms,

arbitrated in war, and composed civil dissensions; and this often

without so much as taking down one buckler, but barely by sending some

one single deputy, to whose direction all at once submitted, like bees

swarming and taking their places around their prince.  Such a fund of

order and equity, enough and to spare for others,

existed in their state.

And therefore I cannot but wonder at those who say that the Spartans

were good subjects, but bad governors, and for proof of it allege a

saying of king Theopompus, who, when one said that Sparta held up so

long because their kings could command so well, replied, "Nay, rather

because the people know so well how to obey."  For people do not obey,

unless rulers know how to command; obedience is a lesson taught by

commanders.  A true leader himself creates the obedience of his own

followers; as it is the last attainment in the art of riding to make a

horse gentle and tractable, so is it of the science of government, to

inspire men with a willingness to obey.  The Lacedaemonians inspired men

not with a mere willingness, but with an absolute desire, to be their

subjects.  For they did not send petitions to them for ships or money,

or a supply of armed men, but only for a Spartan commander; and, having

obtained one, used him with honor and reverence; so the Sicilians

behaved to Gylippus, the Chalcidians to Brasidas, and all the Greeks in

Asia to Lysander, Callicratidas, and Agesilaus; they styled them the

composers and chasteners of each people or prince they were sent to, and

had their eyes always fixed upon the city of Sparta itself, as the

perfect model of good manners and wise government.  The rest seemed as

scholars, they the masters of Greece; and to this Stratonicus pleasantly

alluded, when in jest he pretended to make a law that the Athenians

should conduct religious processions and the mysteries, the Eleans

should preside at the Olympic games, and, if either did amiss, the

Lacedaemonians be beaten.  Antisthenes, too, one of the scholars of

Socrates, said, in earnest, of the Thebans, when they were elated by

their victory at Leuctra, that they looked like schoolboys who had

beaten their master.

However, it was not the design of Lycurgus that his city should govern a

great many others; he thought rather that the happiness of a state, as

of a private man, consisted chiefly in the exercise of virtue, and in

the concord of the inhabitants; his aim, therefore, in all his

arrangements, was to make and keep them free-minded, self-dependent, and

temperate.  And therefore all those who have written well on politics,

as Plato, Diogenes, and Zeno, have taken Lycurgus for their model,

leaving behind them, however, mere projects and words; whereas Lycurgus

was the author, not in writing but in reality, of a government which

none else could so much as copy; and while men in general have treated

the individual philosophic character as unattainable, he, by the example

of a complete philosophic state, raised himself high above all other

lawgivers of Greece.  And so Aristotle says they did him less honor at

Lacedaemon after his death than he deserved, although he has a temple

there, and they offer sacrifices yearly to him as to a god.

It is reported that when his bones were brought home to Sparta his tomb

was struck with lightning; an accident which befell no eminent person

but himself, and Euripides, who was buried at Arethusa in Macedonia;

and it may serve that poet's admirers as a testimony in his favor, that

he had in this the same fate with that holy man and favorite of the

gods.  Some say Lycurgus died in Cirrha; Apollothemis says, after he had

come to Elis; Timaeus and Aristoxenus, that he ended his life in Crete;

Aristoxenus adds that his tomb is shown by the Cretans in the district

of Pergamus, near the strangers' road.  He left an only son, Antiorus,

on whose death without issue, his family became extinct.  But his

relations and friends kept up an annual commemoration of him down to a

long time after; and the days of the meeting were called Lycurgides.

Aristocrates, the son of Hipparchus, says that he died in Crete, and

that his Cretan friends, in accordance with his own request, when they

had burned his body, scattered the ashes into the sea; for fear lest, if

his relics should be transported to Lacedaemon, the people might pretend

to be released from their oaths, and make innovations in the government.

Thus much may suffice for the life and actions of Lycurgus.

NUMA POMPILIUS

Though the pedigrees of noble families of Rome go back in exact form as

far as Numa Pompilius, yet there is great diversity amongst historians

concerning the time in which he reigned; a certain writer called

Clodius, in a book of his entitled Strictures on Chronology, avers that

the ancient registers of Rome were lost when the city was sacked by the

Gauls, and that those which are now extant were counterfeited, to

flatter and serve the humor of some men who wished to have themselves

derived from some ancient and noble lineage, though in reality with no

claim to it.  And though it be commonly reported that Numa was a scholar

and a familiar acquaintance of Pythagoras, yet it is again contradicted

by others, who affirm, that he was acquainted with neither the Greek

language nor learning, and that he was a person of that natural talent

and ability as of himself to attain to virtue, or else that he found

some barbarian instructor superior to Pythagoras.  Some affirm, also,

that Pythagoras was not contemporary with Numa, but lived at least five

generations after him; and that some other Pythagoras, a native of

Sparta, who, in the sixteenth Olympiad, in the third year of which Numa

became king, won a prize at the Olympic race, might, in his travel

through Italy, have gained acquaintance with Numa, and assisted him in

the constitution of his kingdom; whence it comes that many Laconian laws

and customs appear amongst the Roman institutions.  Yet, in any case,

Numa was descended of the Sabines, who declare themselves to be a colony

of the Lacedaemonians.  And chronology, in general, is uncertain;

especially when fixed by the lists of victors in the Olympic games,

which were published at a late period by Hippias the Elean, and rest on

no positive authority.  Commencing, however, at a convenient point, we

will proceed to give the most noticeable events that are recorded of the

life of Numa.

It was the thirty-seventh year, counted from the foundation of Rome,

when Romulus, then reigning, did, on the fifth day of the month of July,

called the Caprotine Nones, offer a public sacrifice at the Goat's

Marsh, in presence of the senate and people of Rome.  Suddenly the sky

was darkened, a thick cloud of storm and rain settled on the earth; the

common people fled in affright, and were dispersed; and in this

whirlwind Romulus disappeared, his body being never found either living

or dead.  A foul suspicion presently attached to the patricians, and

rumors were current among the people as if that they, weary of kingly

government, and exasperated of late by the imperious deportment of

Romulus towards them, had plotted against his life and made him away,

that so they might assume the authority and government into their own

hands.  This suspicion they sought to turn aside by decreeing divine

honors to Romulus, as to one not dead but translated to a higher

condition.  And Proculus, a man of note, took oath that he saw Romulus

caught up into heaven in his arms and vestments, and heard him, as he

ascended, cry out that they should hereafter style him

by the name of Quirinus.

This trouble, being appeased, was followed by another, about the

election of a new king: for the minds of the original Romans and the new

inhabitants were not as yet grown into that perfect unity of temper, but

that there were diversities of factions amongst the commonalty, and

jealousies and emulations amongst the senators; for though all agreed

that it was necessary to have a king.  yet what person or of which

nation, was matter of dispute.  For those who had been builders of the

city with Romulus, and had already yielded a share of their lands and

dwellings to the Sabines, were indignant at any pretension on their part

to rule over their benefactors.  On the other side, the Sabines could

plausibly allege, that, at their king Tatius's decease, they had

peaceably submitted to the sole command of Romulus; so now their turn

was come to have a king chosen out of their own nation; nor did they

esteem themselves to have combined with the Romans as inferiors, nor to

have contributed less than they to the increase of Rome, which, without

their numbers and association, could scarcely have merited the name of a

city.

Thus did both parties argue and dispute their cause; but lest meanwhile

discord, in the absence of all command, should occasion general

confusion, it was agreed that the hundred and fifty senators should

interchangeably execute the office of supreme magistrate, and each in

succession, with the ensigns of royalty, should offer the solemn

sacrifices and dispatch public business for the space of six hours by

day and six by night; which vicissitude and equal distribution of power

would preclude all rivalry amongst the senators and envy from the

people, when they should behold one, elevated to the degree of a king,

leveled within the space of a day to the condition of a private citizen.

This form of government is termed, by the Romans, interregnum.  Nor yet

could they, by this plausible and modest way of rule, escape suspicion

and clamor of the vulgar, as though they were changing the form of

government to an oligarchy, and designing to keep the supreme power in a

sort of wardship under themselves, without ever proceeding to choose a

king.  Both parties came at length to the conclusion that the one should

choose a king out of the body of the other; the Romans make choice of a

Sabine, or the Sabines name a Roman; this was esteemed the best

expedient to put an end to all party spirit, and the prince who should

be chosen would have an equal affection to the one party as his electors

and to the other as his kinsmen.  The Sabines remitted the choice to the

original Romans, and they, too, on their part, were more inclinable to

receive a Sabine king elected by themselves than to see a Roman exalted

by the Sabines.  Consultations being accordingly held, they named Numa

Pompilius, of the Sabine race, a person of that high reputation for

excellence, that, though he were not actually residing at Rome, yet he

was no sooner nominated than accepted by the Sabines, with acclamation

almost greater than that of the electors themselves.

The choice being declared and made known to the people, principal men

of both parties were appointed to visit and entreat him, that he would

accept the administration of the government.  Numa resided at a famous

city of the Sabines called Cures, whence the Romans and Sabines gave

themselves the joint name of Quirites.  Pomponius, an illustrious

person, was his father, and he the youngest of his four sons, being (as

it had been divinely ordered) born on the twenty-first day of April, the

day of the foundation of Rome.  He was endued with a soul rarely

tempered by nature, and disposed to virtue, which he had yet more

subdued by discipline, a severe life, and the study of philosophy; means

which had not only succeeded in expelling the baser passions, but also

the violent and rapacious temper which barbarians are apt to think

highly of; true bravery, in his judgment, was regarded as consisting in

the subjugation of our passions by reason.

He banished all luxury and softness from his own home, and, while

citizens alike and strangers found in him an incorruptible judge and

counselor, in private he devoted himself not to amusement or lucre, but

to the worship of the immortal gods, and the rational contemplation of

their divine power and nature.  So famous was he, that Tatius, the

colleague of Romulus, chose him for his son-in-law, and gave him his

only daughter, which, however, did not stimulate his vanity to desire to

dwell with his father-in-law at Rome; he rather chose to inhabit with

his Sabines, and cherish his own father in his old age; and Tatia, also,

preferred the private condition of her husband before the honors and

splendor she might have enjoyed with her father.  She is said to have

died after she had been married thirteen years, and then Numa, leaving

the conversation of the town, betook himself to a country life, and in a

solitary manner frequented the groves and fields consecrated to the

gods, passing his life in desert places.  And this in particular gave

occasion to the story about the goddess, namely, that Numa did not

retire from human society out of any melancholy or disorder of mind.

but because he had tasted the joys of more elevated intercourse, and,

admitted to celestial wedlock in the love and converse of the goddess

Egeria, had attained to blessedness, and to a divine wisdom.

The story evidently resembles those very ancient fables which the

Phrygians have received and still recount of Attis, the Bithynians of

Herodotus, the Arcadians of Endymion, not to mention several others who

were thought blessed and beloved of the gods; nor does it seem strange

if God, a lover, not of horses or birds, but men, should not disdain to

dwell with the virtuous and converse with the wise and temperate soul,

though it be altogether hard, indeed, to believe, that any god or daemon

is capable of a sensual or bodily love and passion for any human form or

beauty.  Though, indeed, the wise Egyptians do not unplausibly make the

distinction, that it may be possible for a divine spirit so to apply

itself to the nature of a woman, as to imbreed in her the first

beginnings of generation, while on the other side they conclude it

impossible for the male kind to have any intercourse or mixture by the

body with any divinity, not considering, however, that what takes place

on the one side, must also take place on the other; intermixture, by

force of terms, is reciprocal.  Not that it is otherwise than befitting

to suppose that the gods feel towards men affection, and love, in the

sense of affection, and in the form of care and solicitude for their

virtue and their good dispositions.  And, therefore, it was no error of

those who feigned, that Phorbas, Hyacinthus, and Admetus were beloved by

Apollo; or that Hippolytus the Sicyonian was so much in his favor, that,

as often as he sailed from Sicyon to Cirrha, the Pythian prophetess

uttered this heroic verse, expressive of the god's attention and joy:

Now doth Hippolytus return again,

And venture his dear life upon the main.

It is reported, also, that Pan became enamored of Pindar for his verses,

and the divine power rendered honor to Hesiod and Archilochus after

their death for the sake of the Muses; there is a statement, also, that

Aesculapius sojourned with Sophocles in his lifetime, of which many

proofs still exist, and that, when he was dead, another deity took care

for his funeral rites.  And so if any credit may be given to these

instances, why should we judge it incongruous, that a like spirit of the

gods should visit Zaleucus, Minos, Zoroaster, Lycurgus, and Numa, the

controllers of kingdoms, and the legislators for commonwealths?  Nay, it

may be reasonable to believe, that the gods, with a serious purpose,

assist at the councils and serious debates of such men, to inspire and

direct them; and visit poets and musicians, if at all, in their more

sportive moods; but, for difference of opinion here, as Bacchylides

said, "the road is broad."  For there is no absurdity in the account

also given, that Lycurgus and Numa, and other famous lawgivers, having

the task of subduing perverse and refractory multitudes, and of

introducing great innovations, themselves made this pretension to divine

authority, which, if not true, assuredly was expedient for the interests

of those it imposed upon.

Numa was about forty years of age when the ambassadors came to make him

offers of the kingdom; the speakers were Proculus and Velesus, one or

other of whom it had been thought the people would elect as their new

king; the original Romans being for Proculus, and the Sabines for

Velesus.  Their speech was very short, supposing that, when they came to

tender a kingdom, there needed little to persuade to an acceptance; but,

contrary to their expectation, they found that they had to use many

reasons and entreaties to induce one, that lived in peace and quietness,

to accept the government of a city whose foundation and increase had

been made, in a manner, in war.  In presence of his father and his

kinsman Marcius, he returned answer that "Every alteration of a man's

life is dangerous to him; but madness only could induce one who needs

nothing and is satisfied with everything to quit a life he is

accustomed to; which, whatever else it is deficient in, at any rate has

the advantage of certainty over one wholly doubtful and unknown.

Though, indeed, the difficulties of this government cannot even be

called unknown; Romulus, who first held it, did not escape the suspicion

of having plotted against the life of his colleague Tatius; nor the

senate the like accusation, of having treasonably murdered Romulus.  Yet

Romulus had the advantage to be thought divinely born and miraculously

preserved and nurtured.  My birth was mortal; I was reared and

instructed by men that are known to you.  The very points of my

character that are most commended mark me as unfit to reign,—love of

retirement and of studies inconsistent with business, a passion that has

become inveterate in me for peace, for unwarlike occupations, and for

the society of men whose meetings are but those of worship and of kindly

intercourse, whose lives in general are spent upon their farms and their

pastures.  I should but be, methinks, a laughing-stock, while I should

go about to inculcate the worship of the gods, and give lessons in the

love of justice and the abhorrence of violence and war, to a city whose

needs are rather for a captain than for a king."

The Romans, perceiving by these words that he was declining to accept

the kingdom, were the more instant and urgent with him that he would not

forsake and desert them in this condition, and suffer them to relapse,

as they must, into their former sedition and civil discord, there being

no person on whom both parties could accord but on himself.  And, at

length, his father and Marcius, taking him aside, persuaded him to

accept a gift so noble in itself, and tendered to him rather from heaven

than from men.  "Though," said they, "you neither desire riches, being

content with what you have, nor court the fame of authority, as having

already the more valuable fame of virtue, yet you will consider that

government itself is a service of God, who now calls out into action

your qualities of justice and wisdom, which were not meant to be left

useless and unemployed.  Cease, therefore, to avoid and turn your back

upon an office which, to a wise man, is a field for great and honorable

actions, for the magnificent worship of the gods, and for the

introduction of habits of piety, which authority alone can effect

amongst a people.  Tatius, though a foreigner, was beloved, and the

memory of Romulus has received divine honors; and who knows but that

this people, being victorious, may be satiated with war, and, content

with the trophies and spoils they have acquired, may be, above all

things, desirous to have a pacific and justice-loving prince, to lead

them to good order and quiet?  But if, indeed, their desires are

uncontrollably and madly set on war, were it not better, then, to have

the reins held by such a moderating hand as is able to divert the fury

another way, and that your native city and the whole Sabine nation

should possess in you a bond of good-will and friendship with this young

and growing power?"

With these reasons and persuasions several auspicious omens are said to

have concurred, and the zeal, also, of his fellow-citizens, who, on

understanding what message the Roman ambassadors had brought him,

entreated him to accompany them, and to accept the kingdom as a means to

unanimity and concord between the nations.

Numa, yielding to these inducements, having first performed divine

sacrifice, proceeded to Rome, being met in his way by the senate and

people, who, with an impatient desire, came forth to receive him; the

women, also, welcomed him with joyful acclamations, and sacrifices were

offered for him in all the temples, and so universal was the joy, that

they seemed to be receiving, not a new king, but a new kingdom.  In this

manner he descended into the forum, where Spurius Vettius, whose turn it

was to be interrex at that hour, put it to the vote; and all declared

him king.  Then the regalities and robes of authority were brought to

him; but he refused to be invested with them until he had first

consulted and been confirmed by the gods; so, being accompanied by the

priests and augurs, he ascended the Capitol, which at that time the

Romans called the Tarpeian Hill.  Then the chief of the augurs covered

Numa's head, and turned his face towards the south, and, standing behind

him, laid his right hand on his head, and prayed, turning his eyes every

way, in expectation of some auspicious signal from the gods.  It was

wonderful, meantime, with what silence and devotion the multitude stood

assembled in the forum in similar expectation and suspense, till

auspicious birds appeared and passed on the right.  Then Numa,

appareling himself in his royal robes, descended from the hill to the

people, by whom he was received and congratulated with shouts and

acclamations of welcome, as a holy king, and beloved of all the gods.

The first thing he did at his entrance into government was to dismiss

the band of three hundred men which had been Romulus's life-guard,

called by him Celeres, saying, that he would not distrust those who put

confidence in him, nor rule over a people that distrusted him.  The next

thing he did was to add to the two priests of Jupiter and Mars a third

in honor of Romulus, whom he called the Flamen Quirinalis.  The Romans

anciently called their priests Flamines, by corruption of the word

Pilamines, from a certain cap which they wore, called Pileus.  In those

times, Greek words were more mixed with the Latin than at present; thus

also the royal robe, which is called Laena, Juba says, is the same as

the Greek Chlaena; and that the name of Camillus, given to the boy with

both his parents living, who serves in the temple of Jupiter, was taken

from the name given by some Greeks to Mercury, denoting his office of

attendance on the gods.

When Numa had, by such measures, won the favor and affection of the

people, he set himself, without delay, to the task of bringing the hard

and iron Roman temper to somewhat more of gentleness and equity.

Plato's expression of a city in high fever was never more applicable

than to Rome at that time; in its origin formed by daring and warlike

spirits, whom bold and desperate adventure brought thither from every

quarter, it had found in perpetual wars and incursions on its neighbors

its after sustenance and means of growth and in conflict with danger the

source of new strength; like piles, which the blows of the rammer serve

to fix into the ground.  Wherefore Numa, judging it no slight

undertaking to mollify and bend to peace the presumptuous and stubborn

spirits of this people, began to operate upon them with the sanctions of

religion.  He sacrificed often, and used processions and religious

dances, in which most commonly he officiated in person; by such

combinations of solemnity with refined and humanizing pleasures, seeking

to win over and mitigate their fiery and warlike tempers.  At times,

also, he filled their imaginations with religious terrors, professing

that strange apparitions had been seen, and dreadful voices heard; thus

subduing and humbling their minds by a sense of supernatural fears.

This method which Numa used made it believed that he had been much

conversant with Pythagoras; for in the philosophy of the one, as in the

policy of the other, man's relations to the deity occupy a great place.

It is said, also, that the solemnity of his exterior garb and gestures

was adopted by him from the same feeling with Pythagoras.  For it is

said of Pythagoras, that he had taught an eagle to come at his call, and

stoop down to him in its flight; and that, as he passed among the people

assembled at the Olympic games, he showed them his golden thigh; besides

many other strange and miraculous seeming practices, on which Timon the

Phliasian wrote the distich,—

Who, of the glory of a juggler proud,

With solemn talk imposed upon the crowd.

In like manner Numa spoke of a certain goddess or mountain nymph that

was in love with him, and met him in secret, as before related; and

professed that he entertained familiar conversation with the Muses, to

whose teaching he ascribed the greatest part of his revelations; and

amongst them, above all, he recommended to the veneration of the Romans

one in particular, whom he named Tacita, the Silent; which he did

perhaps in imitation and honor of the Pythagorean silence.  His opinion,

also, of images is very agreeable to the doctrine of Pythagoras; who

conceived of the first principle of being as transcending sense and

passion, invisible and incorrupt, and only to be apprehended by abstract

intelligence.  So Numa forbade the Romans to represent God in the form

of man or beast, nor was there any painted or graven image of a deity

admitted amongst them for the space of the first hundred and seventy

years, all which time their temples and chapels were kept free and pure

from images; to such baser objects they deemed it impious to liken the

highest, and all access to God impossible, except by the pure act of the

intellect.  His sacrifices, also, had great similitude to the ceremonial

of Pythagoras, for they were not celebrated with effusion of blood, but

consisted of flour, wine, and the least costly offerings.  Other

external proofs, too, are urged to show the connection Numa had with

Pythagoras.  The comic writer Epicharmus, an ancient author, and of the

school of Pythagoras, in a book of his dedicated to Antenor, records

that Pythagoras was made a freeman of Rome.  Again, Numa gave to one of

his four sons the name of Mamercus, which was the name of one of the

sons of Pythagoras; from whence, as they say sprang that ancient

patrician family of the Aemilii, for that the king gave him in sport the

surname of Aemilius, for his engaging and graceful manner in speaking.

I remember, too, that when I was at Rome, I heard many say, that, when

the oracle directed two statues to be raised, one to the wisest, and

another to the most valiant man of Greece, they erected two of brass,

one representing Alcibiades, and the other Pythagoras.

But to pass by these matters, which are full of uncertainty, and not so

important as to be worth our time to insist on them, the original

constitution of the priests, called Pontifices, is ascribed unto Numa,

and he himself was, it is said, the first of them; and that they have

the name of Pontifices from potens, powerful, because they attend the

service of the gods, who have power and command over all.  Others make

the word refer to exceptions of impossible cases; the priests were to

perform all the duties possible to them; if any thing lay beyond their

power, the exception was not to be cavilled at.  The most common opinion

is the most absurd, which derives this word from pons, and assigns the

priests the title of bridge-makers.  The sacrifices performed on the

bridge were amongst the most sacred and ancient, and the keeping and

repairing of the bridge attached, like any other public sacred office,

to the priesthood.  It was accounted not simply unlawful, but a positive

sacrilege, to pull down the wooden bridge; which moreover is said, in

obedience to an oracle, to have been built entirely of timber and

fastened with wooden pins, without nails or cramps of iron.  The stone

bridge was built a very long time after, when Aemilius was quaestor, and

they do, indeed, say also that the wooden bridge was not so old as

Numa's time, but was finished by Ancus Marcius, when he was king, who

was the grandson of Numa by his daughter.

The office of Pontifex Maximus, or chief priest, was to declare and

interpret the divine law, or, rather, to preside over sacred rites; he

not only prescribed rules for public ceremony, but regulated the

sacrifices of private persons, not suffering them to vary from

established custom, and giving information to every one of what was

requisite for purposes of worship or supplication.  He was also guardian

of the vestal virgins, the institution of whom, and of their perpetual

fire, was attributed to Numa, who, perhaps fancied the charge of pure

and uncorrupted flames would be fitly entrusted to chaste and unpolluted

persons, or that fire, which consumes, but produces nothing, bears all

analogy to the virgin estate.  In Greece, wherever a perpetual holy fire

is kept, as at Delphi and Athens, the charge of it is committed, not to

virgins, but widows past the time of marriage.  And in case by any

accident it should happen that this fire became extinct, as the holy

lamp was at Athens under the tyranny of Aristion, and at Delphi, when

that temple was burnt by the Medes, as also in the time of the

Mithridatic and Roman civil war, when not only the fire was

extinguished, but the altar demolished, then, afterwards, in kindling

this fire again, it was esteemed an impiety to light it from common

sparks or flame, or from any thing but the pure and unpolluted rays of

the sun, which they usually effect by concave mirrors, of a figure

formed by the revolution of an isoceles rectangular triangle, all the

lines from the circumference of which meeting in a center, by holding it

in the light of the sun they can collect and concentrate all its rays

at this one point of convergence; where the air will now become

rarefied, and any light, dry, combustible matter will kindle as soon as

applied, under the effect of the rays, which here acquire the substance

and active force of fire.  Some are of opinion that these vestals had no

other business than the preservation of this fire; but others conceive

that they were keepers of other divine secrets, concealed from all but

themselves, of which we have told all that may lawfully be asked or

told, in the life of Camillus.  Gegania and Verenia, it is recorded,

were the names of the first two virgins consecrated and ordained by

Numa; Canuleia and Tarpeia succeeded; Servius afterwards added two, and

the number of four has continued to the present time.

The statutes prescribed by Numa for the vestals were these:  that they

should take a vow of virginity for the space of thirty years, the first

ten of which they were to spend in learning their duties, the second ten

in performing them, and the remaining ten in teaching and instructing

others.  Thus the whole term being completed, it was lawful for them to

marry, and, leaving the sacred order, to choose any condition of life

that pleased them; but this permission few, as they say, made use of;

and in cases where they did so, it was observed that their change was

not a happy one, but accompanied ever after with regret and melancholy;

so that the greater number, from religious fears and scruples, forbore,

and continued to old age and death in the strict observance

of a single life.

For this condition he compensated by great privileges and prerogatives;

as that they had power to make a will in the lifetime of their father;

that they had a free administration of their own affairs without

guardian or tutor, which was the privilege of women who were the mothers

of three children; when they go abroad, they have the fasces carried

before them; and if in their walks they chance to meet a criminal on his

way to execution, it saves his life, upon oath made that the meeting was

an accidental one, and not concerted or of set purpose.  Any one who

presses upon the chair on which they are carried, is put to death.  If

these vestals commit any minor fault, they are punishable by the high-

priest only, who scourges the offender, sometimes with her clothes off,

in a dark place, with a curtain drawn between; but she that has broken

her vow is buried alive near the gate called Collina, where a little

mound of earth stands, inside the city, reaching some little distance,

called in Latin agger; under it a narrow room is constructed, to which a

descent is made by stairs; here they prepare a bed, and light a lamp,

and leave a small quantity of victuals, such as bread, water, a pail of

milk, and some oil; that so that body which had been consecrated and

devoted to the most sacred service of religion might not be said to

perish by such a death as famine.  The culprit herself is put in a

litter, which they cover over, and tie her down with cords on it, so

that nothing she utters may be heard.  They then take her to the forum;

all people silently go out of the way as she passes, and such as follow

accompany the bier with solemn and speechless sorrow; and, indeed, there

is not any spectacle more appalling, nor any day observed by the city

with greater appearance of gloom and sadness.  When they come to the

place of execution, the officers loose the cords, and then the high-

priest, lifting his hands to heaven, pronounces certain prayers to

himself before the act; then he brings out the prisoner, being still

covered, and placing her upon the steps that lead down to the cell,

turns away his face with the rest of the priests; the stairs are drawn

up after she has gone down, and a quantity of earth is heaped up over

the entrance to the cell, so as to prevent it from being distinguished

from the rest of the mound.  This is the punishment of those who break

their vow of virginity.

It is said, also, that Numa built the temple of Vesta, which was

intended for a repository of the holy fire, of a circular form, not to

represent the figure of the earth, as if that were the same as Vesta,

but that of the general universe, in the center of which the

Pythagoreans place the element of fire, and give it the name of Vesta

and the unit; and do not hold that the earth is immovable, or that it is

situated in the center of the globe, but that it keeps a circular motion

about the seat of fire, and is not in the number of the primary

elements; in this agreeing with the opinion of Plato, who, they say, in

his later life, conceived that the earth held a lateral position, and

that the central and sovereign space was reserved for some nobler body.

There was yet a farther use of the priests, and that was to give people

directions in the national usages at funeral rites.  Numa taught them to

regard these offices, not as a pollution, but as a duty paid to the gods

below, into whose hands the better part of us is transmitted; especially

they were to worship the goddess Libitina, who presided over all the

ceremonies performed at burials; whether they meant hereby Proserpina,

or, as the most learned of the Romans conceive, Venus, not inaptly

attributing the beginning and end of man's life to the agency of one and

the same deity.  Numa also prescribed rules for regulating the days of

mourning, according to certain times and ages.  As, for example, a child

of three years was not to be mourned for at all; one older, up to ten

years, for as many months as it was years old; and the longest time of

mourning for any person whatsoever was not to exceed the term of ten

months; which was the time appointed for women that lost their husbands

to continue in widowhood.  If any married again before that time, by the

laws of Numa she was to sacrifice a cow big with calf.

Numa, also, was founder of several other orders of priests, two of which

I shall mention, the Salii and the Feciales, which are among the

clearest proofs of the devoutness and sanctity of his character.  These

Fecials, or guardians of peace, seem to have had their name from their

office, which was to put a stop to disputes by conference and speech;

for it was not allowable to take up arms until they had declared all

hopes of accommodation to be at an end, for in Greek, too, we call it

peace when disputes are settled by words, and not by force.  The Romans

commonly dispatched the Fecials, or heralds, to those who had offered

them injury, requesting satisfaction; and, in case they refused, they

then called the gods to witness, and, with imprecations upon themselves

and their country should they be acting unjustly, so declared war;

against their will, or without their consent, it was lawful neither for

soldier nor king to take up arms; the war was begun with them, and, when

they had first handed it over to the commander as a just quarrel, then

his business was to deliberate of the manner and ways to carry it on.

It is believed that the slaughter and destruction which the Gauls made

of the Romans was a judgment on the city for neglect of this religious

proceeding; for that when these barbarians besieged the Clusinians,

Fabius Ambustus was dispatched to their camp to negotiate peace for the

besieged; and, on their returning a rude refusal, Fabius imagined that

his office of ambassador was at an end, and, rashly engaging on the side

of the Clusinians, challenged the bravest of the enemy to a single

combat.  It was the fortune of Fabius to kill his adversary, and to take

his spoils; but when the Gauls discovered it, they sent a herald to Rome

to complain against him; since, before war was declared, he had, against

the law of nations, made a breach of the peace.  The matter being

debated in the senate, the Fecials were of opinion that Fabius ought to

be consigned into the hands of the Gauls; but he, being forewarned of

their judgment, fled to the people, by whose protection and favor he

escaped the sentence.  On this, the Gauls marched with their army to

Rome, where, having taken the Capitol, they sacked the city.  The

particulars of all which are fully given in the history of Caminus.

The origin of the Salii is this.  In the eighth year of the reign of

Numa, a terrible pestilence, which traversed all Italy, ravaged likewise

the city of Rome; and the citizens being in distress and despondent, a

brazen target, they say, fell from heaven into the hands of Numa who

gave them this marvelous account of it: that Egeria and the Muses had

assured him it was sent from heaven for the cure and safety of the city,

and that, to keep it secure, he was ordered by them to make eleven

others, so like in dimension and form to the original that no thief

should be able to distinguish the true from the counterfeit.  He farther

declared, that he was commanded to consecrate to the Muses the place,

and the fields about it, where they had been chiefly wont to meet with

him, and that the spring which watered the field should be hallowed for

the use of the vestal virgins, who were to wash and cleanse the

penetralia of their sanctuary with those holy waters.  The truth of all

which was speedily verified by the cessation of the pestilence.  Numa

displayed the target to the artificers and bade them show their skill in

making others like it; all despaired, until at length one Mamurius

Veturius, an excellent workman, happily hit upon it, and made all so

exactly the same that Numa himself was at a loss, and could not

distinguish.  The keeping of these targets was committed to the charge

of certain priests, called Salii, who did not receive their name, as

some tell the story, from Salius, a dancing-master born in Samothrace,

or at Mantinea, who taught the way of dancing in arms; but more truly

from that jumping dance which the Salii themselves use, when in the

month of March they carry the sacred targets through the city; at which

procession they are habited in short frocks of purple, girt with a broad

belt studded with brass; on their heads they wear a brass helmet, and

carry in their hands short daggers, which they clash every now and then

against the targets.  But the chief thing is the dance itself.  They

move with much grace, performing, in quick time and close order, various

intricate figures, with a great display of strength and agility.  The

targets were called Ancilia from their form; for they are not made

round, nor like proper targets, of a complete circumference, but are cut

out into a wavy line, the ends of which are rounded off and turned in at

the thickest part towards each other; so that their shape is

curvilinear, or, in Greek, ancylon; or the name may come from ancon, the

elbow, on which they are carried.  Thus Juba writes, who is eager to

make it Greek.  But it might be, for that matter, from its having come

down anecathen, from above; or from its akesis, or cure of diseases; or

auchmon Iysis, because it put an end to a drought; or from its

anaschesis, or relief from calamities, which is the origin of the

Athenian name Anaces, given to Castor and Pollux; if we must, that is,

reduce it to Greek.  The reward which Mamurius received for his art was

to be mentioned and commemorated in the verses which the Salii sang, as

they danced in their arms through the city; though some will have it

that they do not say Veturium Mamurium, but Veterem Memoriam, ancient

remembrance.

After Numa had in this manner instituted these several orders of

priests, he erected, near the temple of Vesta, what is called to this

day Regia, or king's house, where he spent the most part of his time,

performing divine service, instructing the priests, or conversing with

them on sacred subjects.  He had another house upon the Mount

Quirinalis, the site of which they show to this day.  In all public

processions and solemn prayers, criers were sent before to give notice

to the people that they should forbear their work, and rest.  They say

that the Pythagoreans did not allow people to worship and pray to their

gods by the way, but would have them go out from their houses direct,

with their minds set upon the duty, and so Numa, in like manner, wished

that his citizens should neither see nor hear any religious service in a

perfunctory and inattentive manner, but, laying aside all other

occupations, should apply their minds to religion as to a most serious

business; and that the streets should be free from all noises and cries

that accompany manual labor, and clear for the sacred solemnity.  Some

traces of this custom remain at Rome to this day, for, when the consul

begins to take auspices or do sacrifice, they call out to the people,

Hoc age, Attend to this, whereby the auditors then present are

admonished to compose and recollect themselves.  Many other of his

precepts resemble those of the Pythagoreans.  The Pythagoreans said, for

example, "Thou shalt not make a peck-measure thy seat to sit on.  Thou

shalt not stir the fire with a sword.  When thou goest out upon a

journey, look not behind thee.  When thou sacrificest to the celestial

gods, let it be with an odd number, and when to the terrestrial, with

even."  The significance of each of which precepts they would not

commonly disclose.  So some of Numa's traditions have no obvious

meaning.  "Thou shalt not make libation to the gods of wine from an

unpruned vine.  No sacrifices shall be performed without meal.  Turn

round to pay adoration to the gods; sit after you have worshipped."  The

first two directions seem to denote the cultivation and subduing of the

earth as a part of religion; and as to the turning which the worshipers

are to use in divine adoration, it is said to represent the rotatory

motion of the world.  But, in my opinion, the meaning rather is, that

the worshiper, since the temples front the east, enters with his back to

the rising sun; there, faces round to the east, and so turns back to the

god of the temple, by this circular movement referring the fulfillment

of his prayer to both divinities.  Unless, indeed, this change of

posture may have a mystical meaning, like the Egyptian wheels, and

signify to us the instability of human fortune, and that, in whatever

way God changes and turns our lot and condition, we should rest

contented, and accept it as right and fitting.  They say, also, that the

sitting after worship was to be by way of omen of their petitions being

granted, and the blessing they asked assured to them.  Again, as

different courses of actions are divided by intervals of rest, they

might seat themselves after the completion of what they had done, to

seek favor of the gods for beginning something else.  And this would

very well suit with what we had before; the lawgiver wants to habituate

us to make our petitions to the deity not by the way, and as it were, in

a hurry, when we have other things to do, but with time and leisure to

attend to it.  By such discipline and schooling in religion, the city

passed insensibly into such a submissiveness of temper, and stood in

such awe and reverence of the virtue of Numa, that they received, with

an undoubted assurance, whatever he delivered, though never so fabulous,

and thought nothing incredible or impossible from him.

There goes a story that he once invited a great number of citizens to an

entertainment, at which the dishes in which the meat was served were

very homely and plain, and the repast itself poor and ordinary fare; the

guests seated, he began to tell them that the goddess that consulted

with him was then at that time come to him; when on a sudden the room

was furnished with all sorts of costly drinking-vessels, and the tables

loaded with rich meats, and a most sumptuous entertainment.  But the

dialogue which is reported to have passed between him and Jupiter

surpasses all the fabulous legends that were ever invented.  They say

that before Mount Aventine was inhabited or enclosed within the walls of

the city, two demi-gods, Picus and Faunus, frequented the Springs and

thick shades of that place; which might be two satyrs, or Pans, except

that they went about Italy playing the same sorts of tricks, by skill in

drugs and magic, as are ascribed by the Greeks to the Dactyli of Mount

Ida.  Numa contrived one day to surprise these demi-gods, by mixing wine

and honey in the waters of the spring of which they usually drank.  On

finding themselves ensnared, they changed themselves into various

shapes, dropping their own form and assuming every kind of unusual and

hideous appearance; but when they saw they were safely entrapped, and in

no possibility of getting free, they revealed to him many secrets and

future events; and particularly a charm for thunder and lightning, still

in use, performed with onions and hair and pilchards.  Some say they did

not tell him the charm, but by their magic brought down Jupiter out of

heaven; and that he then, in an angry manner answering the inquiries,

told Numa, that, if he would charm the thunder and lightning, he must do

it with heads.  "How," said Numa, "with the heads of onions?"  "No,"

replied Jupiter, "of men."  But Numa, willing to elude the cruelty of

this receipt, turned it another way, saying, "Your meaning is, the hairs

of men's heads."  "No," replied Jupiter, "with living"—"pilchards,"

said Numa, interrupting him.  These answers he had learnt from Egeria.

Jupiter returned again to heaven, pacified and ilcos, or propitious.

The place was, in remembrance of him, called Ilicium, from this Greek

word; and the spell in this manner effected.

These stories, laughable as they are, show us the feelings which people

then, by force of habit, entertained towards the deity.  And Numa's own

thoughts are said to have been fixed to that degree on divine objects,

that he once, when a message was brought to him that "Enemies are

approaching," answered with a smile, "And I am sacrificing."  It was he,

also, that built the temples of Faith and Terminus and taught the Romans

that the name of Faith was the most solemn oath that they could swear.

They still use it; and to the god Terminus, or Boundary, they offer to

this day both public and private sacrifices, upon the borders and stone-

marks of their land; living victims now, though anciently those

sacrifices were solemnized without blood; for Numa reasoned that the god

of boundaries, who watched over peace, and testified to fair dealing,

should have no concern with blood.  It is very clear that it was this

king who first prescribed bounds to the territory of Rome; for Romulus

would but have openly betrayed how much he had encroached on his

neighbors' lands, had he ever set limits to his own; for boundaries are,

indeed, a defense to those who choose to observe them, but are only a

testimony against the dishonesty of those who break through them.  The

truth is, the portion of lands which the Romans possessed at the

beginning was very narrow, until Romulus enlarged them by war; all whose

acquisitions Numa now divided amongst the indigent commonalty, wishing

to do away with that extreme want which is a compulsion to dishonesty,

and, by turning the people to husbandry, to bring them, as well as their

lands, into better order.  For there is no employment that gives so keen

and quick a relish for peace as husbandry and a country life, which

leave in men all that kind of courage that makes them ready to fight in

defense of their own, while it destroys the license that breaks out into

acts of injustice and rapacity.  Numa, therefore, hoping agriculture

would be a sort of charm to captivate the affections of his people to

peace, and viewing it rather as a means to moral than to economical

profit, divided all the lands into several parcels, to which he gave the

name of pagus, or parish, and over every one of them he ordained chief

overseers; and, taking a delight sometimes to inspect his colonies in

person, he formed his judgment of every man's habits by the results; of

which being witness himself, he preferred those to honors and

employments who had done well, and by rebukes and reproaches incited the

indolent and careless to improvement.  But of all his measures the most

commended was his distribution of the people by their trades into

companies or guilds; for as the city consisted, or rather did not

consist of, but was divided into, two different tribes, the diversity

between which could not be effaced and in the mean time prevented all

unity and caused perpetual tumult and ill-blood, reflecting how hard

substances that do not readily mix when in the lump may, by being beaten

into powder, in that minute form be combined, he resolved to divide the

whole population into a number of small divisions, and thus hoped, by

introducing other distinctions, to obliterate the original and great

distinction, which would be lost among the smaller.  So, distinguishing

the whole people by the several arts and trades, he formed the companies

of musicians, goldsmiths, carpenters, dyers, shoemakers, skinners,

braziers, and potters; and all other handicraftsmen he composed and

reduced into a single company, appointing every one their proper courts,

councils, and religious observances.  In this manner all factious

distinctions began, for the first time, to pass out of use, no person

any longer being either thought of or spoken of under the notion of a

Sabine or a Roman, a Romulian or a Tatian; and the new division became a

source of general harmony and intermixture.

He is also much to be commended for the repeal, or rather amendment, of

that law which gives power to fathers to sell their children; he

exempted such as were married, conditionally that it had been with the

liking and consent of their parents; for it seemed a hard thing that a

woman who had given herself in marriage to a man whom she judged free

should afterwards find herself living with a slave.

He attempted, also, the formation of a calendar, not with absolute

exactness, yet not without some scientific knowledge.  During the reign

of Romulus, they had let their months run on without any certain or

equal term; some of them contained twenty days, others thirty-five,

others more; they had no sort of knowledge of the inequality in the

motions of the sun and moon; they only kept to the one rule that the

whole course of the year contained three hundred and sixty days.  Numa,

calculating the difference between the lunar and the solar' year at

eleven days, for that the moon completed her anniversary course in three

hundred and fifty-four days, and the sun in three hundred and sixty-

five, to remedy this incongruity doubled the eleven days, and every

other year added an intercalary month, to follow February, consisting of

twenty-two days, and called by the Romans the month Mercedinus.  This

amendment, however, itself, in course of time, came to need other

amendments.  He also altered the order of the months; for March, which

was reckoned the first, he put into the third place; and January, which

was the eleventh, he made the first; and February, which was the twelfth

and last, the second.  Many will have it, that it was Numa, also, who

added the two months of January and February; for in the beginning they

had had a year of ten months; as there are barbarians who count only

three; the Arcadians, in Greece, had but four; the Acarnanians, six.

The Egyptian year at first, they say, was of one month; afterwards, of

four; and so, though they live in the newest of all countries, they have

the credit of being a more ancient nation than any; and reckon, in their

genealogies, a prodigious number of years, counting months, that is, as

years.  That the Romans, at first, comprehended the whole year within

ten, and not twelve months, plainly appears by the name of the last,

December, meaning the tenth month; and that March was the first is

likewise evident, for the fifth month after it was called Quintilis, and

the sixth Sextilis, and so the rest; whereas, if January and February

had, in this account, preceded March, Quintilis would have been fifth in

name and seventh in reckoning.  It was also natural, that March,

dedicated to Mars, should be Romulus's first, and April, named from

Venus, or Aphrodite, his second month; in it they sacrifice to Venus,

and the women bathe on the calends, or first day of it, with myrtle

garlands on their heads.  But others, because of its being p and not ph,

will not allow of the derivation of this word from Aphrodite, but

say it is called April from aperio, Latin for to open, because that this

month is high spring, and opens and discloses the buds and flowers.  The

next is called May, from Maia, the mother of Mercury, to whom it is

sacred; then June follows, so called from Juno; some, however, derive

them from the two ages, old and young, majores being their name for

older, and juniores for younger men.  To the other months they gave

denominations according to their order; so the fifth was called

Quintilis, Sextilis the sixth, and the rest, September, October,

November, and December.  Afterwards Quintilis received the name of

Julius, from Caesar who defeated Pompey; as also Sextilis that of

Augustus, from the second Caesar, who had that title.  Domitian, also,

in imitation, gave the two other following months his own names, of

Germanicus and Domitianus; but, on his being slain, they recovered their

ancient denominations of September and October.  The two last are the

only ones that have kept their names throughout without any alteration.

Of the months which were added or transposed in their order by Numa,

February comes from februa; and is as much as Purification month; in it

they make offerings to the dead, and celebrate the Lupercalia, which, in

most points, resembles a purification.  January was so called from

Janus, and precedence given to it by Numa before March, which was

dedicated to the god Mars; because, as I conceive, he wished to take

every opportunity of intimating that the arts and studies of peace are

to be preferred before those of war.  For this Janus, whether in remote

antiquity he were a demi-god or a king, was certainly a great lover of

civil and social unity, and one who reclaimed men from brutal and savage

living; for which reason they figure him with two faces, to represent

the two states and conditions out of the one of which he brought

mankind, to lead them into the other.  His temple at Rome has two gates,

which they call the gates of war, because they stand open in the time of

war, and shut in the times of peace; of which latter there was very

seldom an example, for, as the Roman empire was enlarged and extended,

it was so encompassed with barbarous nations and enemies to be resisted,

that it was seldom or never at peace.  Only in the time of Augustus

Caesar, after he had overcome Antony, this temple was shut; as likewise

once before, when Marcus Atilius and Titus Manlius were consuls; but

then it was not long before, wars breaking out, the gates were again

opened.  But, during the reign of Numa, those gates were never seen open

a single day, but continued constantly shut for a space of forty-three

years together; such an entire and universal cessation of war existed.

For not only had the people of Rome itself been softened and charmed

into a peaceful temper by the just and mild rule of a pacific prince,

but even the neighboring cities, as if some salubrious and gentle air

had blown from Rome upon them, began to experience a change of feeling,

and partook in the general longing for the sweets of peace and order,

and for life employed in the quiet tillage of soil, bringing up of

children, and worship of the gods.  Festival days and sports, and the

secure and peaceful interchange of friendly visits and hospitalities

prevailed all through the whole of Italy.  The love of virtue and

justice flowed from Numa's wisdom as from a fountain, and the serenity

of his spirit diffused itself, like a calm, on all sides; so that the

hyperboles of poets were flat and tame to express what then existed;

as that

Over the iron shield the spiders hang their threads,

or that

Rust eats the pointed spear and double-edged sword.

No more is heard the trumpet's brazen roar,

Sweet sleep is banished from our eyes no more.

For, during the whole reign of Numa, there was neither war, nor

sedition, nor innovation in the state, nor any envy or ill-will to his

person, nor plot or conspiracy from views of ambition.  Either fear of

the gods that were thought to watch over him, or reverence for his

virtue, or a divine felicity of fortune that in his days preserved human

innocence, made his reign, by whatever means, a living example and

verification of that saying which Plato, long afterwards, ventured to

pronounce, that the sole and only hope of respite or remedy for human

evils was in some happy conjunction of events, which should unite in a

single person the power of a king and the wisdom of a philosopher, so as

to elevate virtue to control and mastery over vice.  The wise man is

blessed in himself, and blessed also are the auditors who can hear and

receive those words which flow from his mouth; and perhaps, too, there

is no need of compulsion or menaces to affect the multitude, for the

mere sight itself of a shining and conspicuous example of virtue in the

life of their prince will bring them spontaneously to virtue, and to a

conformity with that blameless and blessed life of good will and mutual

concord, supported by temperance and justice, which is the highest

benefit that human means can confer; and he is the truest ruler who can

best introduce it into the hearts and practice of his subjects.  It is

the praise of Numa that no one seems ever to have discerned this so

clearly as he.

As to his children and wives, there is a diversity of reports by several

authors; some will have it that he never had any other wife than Tatia,

nor more children than one daughter called Pompilia; others will have it

that he left also four sons, namely, Pompo, Pinus, Calpus, and Mamercus,

every one of whom had issue, and from them descended the noble and

illustrious families of Pomponii, Pinarii, Calpurnii, and Mamerci, which

for this reason took also the surname of Rex, or King.  But there is a

third set of writers who say that these pedigrees are but a piece of

flattery used by writers, who, to gain favor with these great

families, made them fictitious genealogies from the lineage of Numa; and

that Pompilia was not the daughter of Tatia, but Lucretia, another wife

whom he married after he came to his kingdom; however, all of them agree

in opinion that she was married to the son of that Marcius who persuaded

him to accept the government, and accompanied him to Rome where, as a

mark of honor, he was chosen into the senate, and, after the death of

Numa, standing in competition with Tullus Hostilius for the kingdom, and

being disappointed of the election, in discontent killed himself; his

son Marcius, however, who had married Pompilia, continuing at Rome, was

the father of Ancus Marcius, who succeeded Tullus Hostilius in the

kingdom, and was but five years of age when Numa died.

Numa lived something above eighty years, and then, as Piso writes, was

not taken out of the world by a sudden or acute disease, but died of old

age and by a gradual and gentle decline.  At his funeral all the glories

of his life were consummated, when all the neighboring states in

alliance and amity with Rome met to honor and grace the rites of his

interment with garlands and public presents; the senators carried the

bier on which his corpse was laid, and the priests followed and

accompanied the solemn procession; while a general crowd, in which women

and children took part, followed with such cries and weeping as if they

had bewailed the death and loss of some most dear relation taken away in

the flower of age, and not of an old and worn-out king.  It is said that

his body, by his particular command, was not burnt, but that they made,

in conformity with his order, two stone coffins, and buried both under

the hill Janiculum, in one of which his body was laid, and in the other

his sacred books, which, as the Greek legislators their tables, he had

written out for himself, but had so long inculcated the contents of

them, whilst he lived, into the minds and hearts of the priests, that

their understandings became fully possessed with the whole spirit and

purpose of them; and he, therefore, bade that they should be buried with

his body, as though such holy precepts could not without irreverence be

left to circulate in mere lifeless writings.  For this very reason, they

say, the Pythagoreans bade that their precepts should not be committed

to paper, but rather preserved in the living memories of those who were

worthy to receive them; and when some of their out-of-the-way and

abstruse geometrical processes had been divulged to an unworthy person,

they said the gods threatened to punish this wickedness and profanity by

a signal and wide-spreading calamity.  With these several instances,

concurring to show a similarity in the lives of Numa and Pythagoras, we

may easily pardon those who seek to establish the fact of a real

acquaintance between them.

Valerius Antias writes that the books which were buried in the aforesaid

chest or coffin of stone were twelve volumes of holy writ and twelve

others of Greek philosophy, and that about four hundred years

afterwards, when P. Cornelius and M. Baebius were consuls, in a time of

heavy rains, a violent torrent washed away the earth, and dislodged the

chests of stone; and, their covers falling off, one of them was found

wholly empty, without the least relic of any human body; in the other

were the books before mentioned, which the praetor Petilius having read

and perused, made oath in the senate, that, in his opinion, it was not

fit for their contents to be made public to the people; whereupon the

volumes were all carried to the Comitium, and there burnt.

It is the fortune of all good men that their virtue rises in glory after

their deaths, and that the envy which evil men conceive against them

never outlives them long; some have the happiness even to see it die

before them; but in Numa's case, also, the fortunes of the succeeding

kings served as foils to set off the brightness of his reputation.  For

after him there were five kings, the last of whom ended his old age in

banishment, being deposed from his crown; of the other four, three were

assassinated and murdered by treason; the other, who was Tullus

Hostilius, that immediately succeeded Numa, derided his virtues, and

especially his devotion to religious worship, as a cowardly and mean-

spirited occupation, and diverted the minds of the people to war; but

was checked in these youthful insolences, and was himself driven by an

acute and tormenting disease into superstitions wholly different from

Numa's piety, and left others also to participate in these terrors when

he died by the stroke of a thunderbolt.

COMPARISON OF NUMA WITH LYCURGUS

Having thus finished the lives of Lycurgus and Numa, we shall now,

though the work be difficult, put together their points of difference as

they lie here before our view.  Their points of likeness are obvious;

their moderation, their religion, their capacity of government and

discipline, their both deriving their laws and constitutions from the

gods.  Yet in their common glories there are circumstances of diversity;

for, first, Numa accepted and Lycurgus resigned a kingdom; Numa received

without desiring it, Lycurgus had it and gave it up; the one from a

private person and a stranger was raised by others to be their king, the

other from the condition of a prince voluntarily descended to the state

of privacy.  It was glorious to acquire a throne by justice, yet more

glorious to prefer justice before a throne; the same virtue which made

the one appear worthy of regal power exalted the other to the disregard

of it.  Lastly, as musicians tune their harps, so the one let down the

high-flown spirits of the people at Rome to a lower key, as the other

screwed them up at Sparta to a higher note, when they were sunken low by

dissoluteness and riot.  The harder task was that of Lycurgus; for it

was not so much his business to persuade his citizens to put off their

armor or ungird their swords, as to cast away their gold or silver, and

abandon costly furniture and rich tables; nor was it necessary to preach

to them, that, laying aside their arms, they should observe the

festivals, and sacrifice to the gods, but rather, that, giving up

feasting and drinking, they should employ their time in laborious and

martial exercises; so that while the one effected all by persuasions and

his people's love for him, the other, with danger and hazard of his

person, scarcely in the end succeeded.  Numa's muse was a gentle and

loving inspiration, fitting him well to turn and soothe his people into

peace and justice out of their violent and fiery tempers; whereas, if we

must admit the treatment of the Helots to be a part of Lycurgus's

legislations, a most cruel and iniquitous proceeding, we must own that

Numa was by a great deal the more humane and Greek-like legislator,

granting even to actual slaves a license to sit at meat with their

masters at the feast of Saturn, that they, also, might have some taste

and relish of the sweets of liberty.  For this custom, too, is ascribed

to Numa, whose wish was, they conceive, to give a place in the enjoyment

of the yearly fruits of the soil to those who had helped to produce

them.  Others will have it to be in remembrance of the age of Saturn,

when there was no distinction between master and slave, but all lived as

brothers and as equals in a condition of equality.

In general, it seems that both aimed at the same design and intent,

which was to bring their people to moderation and frugality; but, of

other virtues, the one set his affection most on fortitude, and the

other on justice; unless we will attribute their different ways to the

different habits and temperaments which they had to work upon by their

enactments; for Numa did not out of cowardice or fear affect peace, but

because he would not be guilty of injustice; nor did Lycurgus promote a

spirit of war in his people that they might do injustice to others, but

that they might protect themselves by it.

In bringing the habits they formed in their people to a just and happy

mean, mitigating them where they exceeded, and strengthening them where

they were deficient, both were compelled to make great innovations.  The

frame of government which Numa formed was democratic and popular to the

last extreme, goldsmiths and flute-players and shoemakers constituting

his promiscuous, many-colored commonalty.  Lycurgus was rigid and

aristocratical, banishing all the base and mechanic arts to the company

of servants and strangers, and allowing the true citizens no implements

but the spear and shield, the trade of war only, and the service of

Mars, and no other knowledge or study but that of obedience to their

commanding officers, and victory over their enemies.  Every sort of

money-making was forbid them as freemen; and to make them thoroughly so

and to keep them so through their whole lives, every conceivable concern

with money was handed over, with the cooking and the waiting at table,

to slaves and helots.  But Numa made none of these distinctions; he only

suppressed military rapacity, allowing free scope to every other means

of obtaining wealth; nor did he endeavor to do away with inequality in

this respect, but permitted riches to be amassed to any extent, and paid

no attention to the gradual and continual augmentation and influx of

poverty; which it was his business at the outset, whilst there was as

yet no great disparity in the estates of men, and whilst people still

lived much in one manner, to obviate, as Lycurgus did, and take measures

of precaution against the mischiefs of avarice, mischiefs not of small

importance, but the real seed and first beginning of all the great and

extensive evils of after times.  The re-division of estates, Lycurgus is

not, it seems to me, to be blamed for making, nor Numa for omitting;

this equality was the basis and foundation of the one commonwealth; but

at Rome, where the lands had been lately divided, there was nothing to

urge any re-division or any disturbance of the first arrangement, which

was probably still in existence.

With respect to wives and children, and that community which both, with

a sound policy, appointed, to prevent all jealousy, their methods,

however, were different.  For when a Roman thought himself to have a

sufficient number of children, in case his neighbor who had none should

come and request his wife of him, he had a lawful power to give her up

to him who desired her, either for a certain time, or for good.  The

Lacedaemonian husband on the other hand, might allow the use of his wife

to any other that desired to have children by her, and yet still keep

her in his house, the original marriage obligation still subsisting as

at first.  Nay, many husbands, as we have said, would invite men whom

they thought like]y to procure them fine and good-looking children into

their houses.  What is the difference, then, between the two customs?

Shall we say that the Lacedaemonian system is one of an extreme and

entire unconcern about their wives, and would cause most people endless

disquiet and annoyance with pangs and jealousies?  The Roman course

wears an air of a more delicate acquiescence, draws the veil of a new

contract over the change, and concedes the general insupportableness of

mere community?  Numa's directions, too, for the care of young women are

better adapted to the female sex and to propriety; Lycurgus's are

altogether unreserved and unfeminine, and have given a great handle to

the poets, who call them (Ibycus, for example) Phaenomerides, bare-

thighed; and give them the character (as does Euripides) of being

wild after husbands;

These with the young men from the house go out,

With thighs that show, and robes that fly about.

For in fact the skirts of the frock worn by unmarried girls were not

sewn together at the lower part, but used to fly back and show the whole

thigh bare as they walked.  The thing is most distinctly given

by Sophocles.

—She, also, the young maid,

Whose frock, no robe yet o'er it laid,

Folding back, leaves her bare thigh free,

Hermione.

And so their women, it is said, were bold and masculine, overbearing to

their husbands in the first place, absolute mistresses in their houses,

giving their opinions about public matters freely, and speaking openly

even on the most important subjects.  But the matrons, under the

government of Numa, still indeed received from their husbands all that

high respect and honor which had been paid them under Romulus as a sort

of atonement for the violence done to them; nevertheless, great modesty

was enjoined upon them; all busy intermeddling forbidden, sobriety

insisted on, and silence made habitual.  Wine they were not to touch at

all, nor to speak, except in their husband's company, even on the most

ordinary subjects.  So that once when a woman had the confidence to

plead her own cause in a court of judicature, the senate, it is said,

sent to inquire of the oracle what the prodigy did portend; and, indeed,

their general good behavior and submissiveness is justly proved by the

record of those that were otherwise; for as the Greek historians record

in their annals the names of those who first unsheathed the sword of

civil war, or murdered their brothers, or were parricides, or killed

their mothers, so the Roman writers report it as the first example, that

Spurius Carvilius divorced his wife, being a case that never before

happened, in the space of two hundred and thirty years from the

foundation of the city; and that one Thalaea, the wife of Pinarius, had

a quarrel (the first instance of the kind) with her mother-in-law,

Gegania, in the reign of Tarquinius Superbus; so successful was the

legislator in securing order and good conduct in the marriage relation.

Their respective regulations for marrying the young women are in

accordance with those for their education.  Lycurgus made them brides

when they were of full age and inclination for it.  Intercourse, where

nature was thus consulted, would produce, he thought, love and

tenderness, instead of the dislike and fear attending an unnatural

compulsion; and their bodies, also, would be better able to bear the

trials of breeding and of bearing children, in his judgment

the one end of marriage.

Astolos chiton, the under garment, frock, or tunic, without anything,

either himation or peplus, over it.

The Romans, on the other hand, gave their daughters in marriage as early

as twelve years old, or even under; thus they thought their bodies alike

and minds would be delivered to the future husband pure and undefiled.

The way of Lycurgus seems the more natural with a view to the birth of

children; the other, looking to a life to be spent together, is more

moral.  However, the rules which Lycurgus drew up for superintendence of

children, their collection into companies, their discipline and

association, as also his exact regulations for their meals, exercises,

and sports, argue Numa no more than an ordinary lawgiver.  Numa left the

whole matter simply to be decided by the parent's wishes or necessities;

he might, if he pleased, make his son a husbandman or carpenter,

coppersmith or musician; as if it were of no importance for them to be

directed and trained up from the beginning to one and the same common

end, or as though it would do for them to be like passengers on

shipboard, brought thither each for his own ends and by his own choice,

uniting to act for the common good only in time of danger upon occasion

of their private fears, in general looking simply to their own interest.

We may forbear, indeed, to blame common legislators, who may be

deficient in power or knowledge.  But when a wise man like Numa had

received the sovereignty over a new and docile people, was there any

thing that would better deserve his attention than the education of

children, and the training up of the young, not to contrariety and

discordance of character, but to the unity of the common model of

virtue, to which from their cradle they should have been formed and

molded?  One benefit among many that Lycurgus obtained by his course was

the permanence which it secured to his laws.  The obligation of oaths to

preserve them would have availed but little, if he had not, by

discipline and education, infused them into the children's characters,

and imbued their whole early life with a love of his government.  The

result was that the main points and fundamentals of his legislation

continued for above five hundred years, like some deep and thoroughly

ingrained tincture, retaining their hold upon the nation.  But Numa's

whole design and aim, the continuance of peace and good-will, on his

death vanished with him; no sooner did he expire his last breath than

the gates of Janus's temple flew wide open, and, as if war had, indeed,

been kept and caged up within those walls, it rushed forth to fill all

Italy with blood and slaughter; and thus that best and justest fabric of

things was of no long continuance, because it wanted that cement which

should have kept all together, education.  What, then, some may say, has

not Rome been advanced and bettered by her wars?  A question that will

need a long answer, if it is to be one to satisfy men who take the

better to consist in riches, luxury, and dominion, rather than in

security, gentleness, and that independence which is accompanied by

justice.  However, it makes much for Lycurgus, that, after the Romans

deserted the doctrine and discipline of Numa, their empire grew and

their power increased so much; whereas so soon as the Lacedaemonians

fell from the institutions of Lycurgus, they sank from the highest to

the lowest state, and, after forfeiting their supremacy over the rest of

Greece, were themselves in danger of absolute extirpation.  Thus much,

meantime, was peculiarly signal and almost divine in the circumstances

of Numa, that he was an alien, and yet courted to come and accept a

kingdom, the frame of which though he entirely altered, yet he performed

it by mere persuasion, and ruled a city that as yet had scarce become

one city, without recurring to arms or any violence (such as Lycurgus

used, supporting himself by the aid of the nobler citizens against the

commonalty), but, by mere force of wisdom and justice, established union

and harmony amongst all.

SOLON

Didymus, the grammarian, in his answer to Asclepiades concerning Solon's

Tables of Law, mentions a passage of one Philocles, who states that

Solon's father's name was Euphorion, contrary to the opinion of all

others who have written concerning him; for they generally agree that he

was the son of Execestides, a man of moderate wealth and power in the

city, but of a most noble stock, being descended from Codrus; his mother,

as Heraclides Ponticus affirms, was cousin to Pisistratus's

mother, and the two at first were great friends, partly because they

were akin, and partly because of Pisistratus's noble qualities and

beauty.  And they say Solon loved him; and that is the reason, I

suppose, that when afterwards they differed about the government, their

enmity never produced any hot and violent passion, they remembered their

old kindnesses, and retained—

Still in its embers living the strong fire

of their love and dear affection.  For that Solon was not proof against

beauty, nor of courage to stand up to passion and meet it,

Hand to hand as in the ring—

we may conjecture by his poems, and one of his laws, in which there are

practices forbidden to slaves, which he would appear, therefore, to

recommend to freemen.  Pisistratus, it is stated, was similarly attached

to one Charmus; he it was who dedicated the figure of Love in the

Academy, where the runners in the sacred torch-race light their torches.

Solon, as Hermippus writes, when his father had ruined his estate in

doing benefits and kindnesses to other men, though he had friends enough

that were willing to contribute to his relief, yet was ashamed to be

beholden to others, since he was descended from a family who were

accustomed to do kindnesses rather than receive them; and therefore

applied himself to merchandise in his youth; though others assure us

that he traveled rather to get learning and experience than to make

money.  It is certain that he was a lover of knowledge, for when he was

old he would say, that he

Each day grew older, and learnt something new,

and yet no admirer of riches, esteeming as equally wealthy the man,—

Who hath both gold and silver in his hand,

Horses and mules, and acres of wheat-land,

And him whose all is decent food to eat,

Clothes to his back and shoes upon his feet,

And a young wife and child, since so 'twill be,

And no more years than will with that agree;—

and in another place,—

Wealth I would have, but wealth by wrong procure

I would not; justice, e'en if slow, is sure.

And it is perfectly possible for a good man and a statesman, without

being solicitous for superfluities, to show some concern for competent

necessaries.  In his time, as Hesiod says, —"Work was a shame to none,"

nor was any distinction made with respect to trade, but merchandise was

a noble calling, which brought home the good things which the barbarous

nations enjoyed, was the occasion of friendship with their kings, and a

great source of experience.  Some merchants have built great cities, as

Protis, the founder of Massilia, to whom the Gauls near the Rhine were

much attached.  Some report also that Thales and Hippocrates the

mathematician traded; and that Plato defrayed the charges of his travels

by selling oil in Egypt.  Solon's softness and profuseness, his popular

rather than philosophical tone about pleasure in his poems, have been

ascribed to his trading life; for, having suffered a thousand dangers,

it was natural they should be recompensed with some gratifications and

enjoyments; but that he accounted himself rather poor than rich is

evident from the lines,

Some wicked men are rich, some good are poor,

We will not change our virtue for their store;

Virtue's a thing that none call take away,

But money changes owners all the day.

At first he used his poetry only in trifles, not for any serious

purpose, but simply to pass away his idle hours; but afterwards he

introduced moral sentences and state matters, which he did, not to

record them merely as an historian, but to justify his own actions, and

sometimes to correct, chastise, and stir up the Athenians to noble

performances.  Some report that he designed to put his laws into heroic

verse, and that they began thus,—

We humbly beg a blessing on our laws

From mighty Jove, and honor, and applause.

In philosophy, as most of the wise men then, he chiefly

esteemed the political part of morals; in physics, he was very plain and

antiquated, as appears by this,—

It is the clouds that make the snow and hail,

And thunder comes from lightning without fail;

The sea is stormy when the winds have blown,

But it deals fairly when 'tis left alone.

And, indeed, it is probable that at that time Thales alone had raised

philosophy above mere practice into speculation; and the rest of the

wise men were so called from prudence in political concerns.  It is

said, that they had an interview at Delphi, and another at Corinth, by

the procurement of Periander, who made a meeting for them, and a supper.

But their reputation was chiefly raised by sending the tripod to them

all, by their modest refusal, and complaisant yielding to one another.

For, as the story goes, some of the Coans fishing with a net, some

strangers, Milesians, bought the draught at a venture; the net brought

up a golden tripod, which, they say, Helen, at her return from Troy,

upon the remembrance of an old prophecy, threw in there.  Now, the

strangers at first contesting with the fishers about the tripod, and the

cities espousing the quarrel so far as to engage themselves in a war,

Apollo decided the controversy by commanding to present it to the wisest

man; and first it was sent to Miletus to Thales, the Coans freely

presenting him with that for which they fought against the whole body of

the Milesians; but, Thales declaring Bias the wiser person, it was sent

to him; from him to another; and so, going round them all, it came to

Thales a second time; and, at last, being carried from Miletus to

Thebes, was there dedicated to Apollo Ismenius.  Theophrastus writes

that it was first presented to Bias at Priene; and next to Thales at

Miletus, and so through all it returned to Bias, and was afterwards sent

to Delphi.  This is the general report, only some, instead of a tripod,

say this present was a cup sent by Croesus; others, a piece of plate

that one Bathycles had left.  It is stated, that Anacharsis and Solon,

and Solon and Thales, were familiarly acquainted, and some have

delivered parts of their discourse; for, they say, Anacharsis, coming to

Athens, knocked at Solon's door, and told him, that he, being a

stranger, was come to be his guest, and contract a friendship with him;

and Solon replying, "It is better to make friends at home," Anacharsis

replied, "Then you that are at home make friendship with me."  Solon,

somewhat surprised at the readiness of the repartee, received him

kindly, and kept him some time with him, being already engaged in public

business and the compilation of his laws; which when Anacharsis

understood, he laughed at him for imagining the dishonesty and

covetousness of his countrymen could be restrained by written laws,

which were like spiders' webs, and would catch, it is true, the weak and

poor, but easily be broken by the mighty and rich.  To this Solon

rejoined that men keep their promises when neither side can get anything

by the breaking of them; and he would so fit his laws to the

citizens, that all should understand it was more eligible to be just

than to break the laws.  But the event rather agreed with the conjecture

of Anacharsis than Solon's hope.  Anacharsis, being once at the

assembly, expressed his wonder at the fact that in Greece wise men spoke

and fools decided.

Solon went, they say, to Thales at Miletus, and wondered that Thales

took no care to get him a wife and children.  To this, Thales made no

answer for the present; but, a few days after, procured a stranger to

pretend that he had left Athens ten days ago; and Solon inquiring what

news there, the man, according to his instructions, replied, "None but a

young man's funeral, which the whole city attended; for he was the son,

they said, of an honorable man, the most virtuous of the citizens, who

was not then at home, but had been traveling a long time."  Solon

replied, "What a miserable man is he!  But what was his name?"  "I have

heard it," says the man, "but have now forgotten it, only there was

great talk of his wisdom and his justice."  Thus Solon was drawn on by

every answer, and his fears heightened, till at last, being extremely

concerned, he mentioned his own name, and asked the stranger if that

young man was called Solon's son; and the stranger assenting, he began

to beat his head, and to do and say all that is usual with men in

transports of grief.  But Thales took his hand, and, with a smile, said,

"These things, Solon, keep me from marriage and rearing children, which

are too great for even your constancy to support; however, be not

concerned at the report, for it is a fiction."  This Hermippus relates,

from Pataecus, who boasted that he had Aesop's soul.

However, it is irrational and poor-spirited not to seek conveniences for

fear of losing them, for upon the same account we should not allow

ourselves to like wealth, glory, or wisdom, since we may fear to be

deprived of all these; nay, even virtue itself, than which there is no

greater nor more desirable possession, is often suspended by sickness or

drugs.  Now Thales, though unmarried, could not be free from solicitude,

unless he likewise felt no care for his friends, his kinsmen, or his

country; yet we are told he adopted Cybisthus, his sister's son.  For

the soul, having a principle of kindness in itself, and being born to

love, as well as perceive, think, or remember, inclines and fixes upon

some stranger, when a man has none of his own to embrace.  And alien or

illegitimate objects insinuate themselves into his affections, as into

some estate that lacks lawful heirs; and with affection come anxiety and

care; insomuch that you may see men that use the strongest language

against the marriage-bed and the fruit of it, when some servant's or

concubine's child is sick or dies, almost killed with grief, and

abjectly lamenting.  Some have given way to shameful and desperate

sorrow at the loss of a dog or horse; others have borne the deaths of

virtuous children without any extravagant or unbecoming grief; have

passed the rest of their lives like men, and according to the principles

of reason.  It is not affection, it is weakness, that brings men,

unarmed against fortune by reason, into these endless pains and terrors;

and they indeed have not even the present enjoyment of what they dote

upon, the possibility of the future loss causing them continual pangs,

tremors, and distresses.  We must not provide against the loss of wealth

by poverty, or of friends by refusing all acquaintance, or of children

by having none, but by morality and reason.  But of this too much.

Now, when the Athenians were tired with a tedious and difficult war that

they conducted against the Megarians for the island Salamis, and made a

law that it should be death for any man, by writing or speaking, to

assert that the city ought to endeavor to recover it, Solon, vexed at

the disgrace, and perceiving thousands of the youth wished for somebody

to begin, but did not dare to stir first for fear of the law,

counterfeited a distraction, and by his own family it was spread about

the city that he was mad.  He then secretly composed some elegiac

verses, and getting them by heart, that it might seem extempore, ran out

into the place with a cap upon his head, and, the people gathering about

him, got upon the herald's stand, and sang that elegy which begins

thus:—

I am a herald come from Salamis the fair,

My news from thence my verses shall declare.

The poem is called Salamis, it contains one hundred verses, very

elegantly written; when it had been sung, his friends commended it, and

especially Pisistratus exhorted the citizens to obey his directions;

insomuch that they recalled the law, and renewed the war under Solon's

conduct.  The popular tale is, that with Pisistratus he sailed to

Colias, and, finding the women, according to the custom of the country

there, sacrificing to Ceres, he sent a trusty friend to Salamis, who

should pretend himself a renegade, and advise them, if they desired to

seize the chief Athenian women, to come with him at once to Colias; the

Megarians presently sent of men in the vessel with him; and Solon,

seeing it put off from the island, commanded the women to be gone, and

some beardless youths, dressed in their clothes, their shoes, and caps,

and privately armed with daggers, to dance and play near the shore till

the enemies had landed and the vessel was in their power.  Things being

thus ordered, the Megarians were allured with the appearance, and,

coming to the shore, jumped out, eager who should first seize a prize,

so that not one of them escaped; and the Athenians set sail for the

island and took it.

Others say that it was not taken this way, but that he first received

this oracle from Delphi:

Those heroes that in fair Asopia rest,

All buried with their faces to the west,

Go and appease with offerings of the best;

and that Solon, sailing by night to the island, sacrificed to the heroes

Periphemus and Cychreus, and then, taking five hundred Athenian

volunteers (a law having passed that those that took the island should

be highest in the government), with a number of fisher-boats and one

thirty-oared ship, anchored in a bay of Salamis that looks towards

Nisaea; and the Megarians that were then in the island, hearing only an

uncertain report, hurried to their arms, and sent a ship to reconnoiter

the enemies.  This ship Solon took, and, securing the Megarians, manned

it with Athenians, and gave them orders to sail to the island with as

much privacy as possible; meantime he, with the other soldiers, marched

against the Megarians by land, and whilst they were fighting, those from

the ship took the city.  And this narrative is confirmed by the

following solemnity, that was afterwards observed: an Athenian ship used

to sail silently at first to the island, then, with noise and a great

shout, one leapt out armed, and with a loud cry ran to the promontory

Sciradium to meet those that approached upon the land.  And just by

there stands a temple which Solon dedicated to Mars.  For he beat the

Megarians, and as many as were not killed in the battle he sent away

upon conditions.

The Megarians, however, still contending, and both sides having received

considerable losses, they chose the Spartans for arbitrators.  Now, many

affirm that Homer's authority did Solon a considerable kindness, and

that, introducing a line into the Catalog of Ships, when the matter was

to be determined, he read the passage as follows:

Twelve ships from Salamis stout Ajax brought,

And ranked his men where the Athenians fought.

The Athenians, however, call this but an idle story, and report, that

Solon made it appear to the judges, that Philaeus and Eurysaces, the

sons of Ajax, being made citizens of Athens, gave them the island, and

that one of them dwelt at Brauron in Attica, the other at Melite; and

they have a township of Philaidae, to which Pisistratus belonged,

deriving its name from this Philaeus.  Solon took a farther argument

against the Megarians from the dead bodies, which, he said, were not

buried after their fashion but according to the Athenian; for the

Megarians turn the corpse to the east, the Athenians to the west.  But

Hereas the Megarian denies this, and affirms that they likewise turn the

body to the west, and also that the Athenians have a separate tomb for

every body, but the Megarians put two or three into one.  However, some

of Apollo's oracles, where he calls Salamis Ionian, made much for Solon.

This matter was determined by five Spartans, Critolaidas, Amompharetus,

Hypsechidas, Anaxilas, and Cleomenes.

For this, Solon grew famed and powerful; but his advice in favor of

defending the oracle at Delphi, to give aid, and not to suffer the

Cirrhaeans to profane it, but to maintain the honor of the god, got him

most repute among the Greeks: for upon his persuasion the Amphictyons

undertook the war, as, amongst others, Aristotle affirms, in his

enumeration of the victors at the Pythian games, where he makes Solon

the author of this counsel.  Solon, however, was not general in that

expedition, as Hermippus states, out of Evanthes the Samian; for

Aeschines the orator says no such thing, and, in the Delphian register,

Alcmaeon, not Solon, is named as commander of the Athenians.

Now the Cylonian pollution had a long while disturbed the commonwealth,

ever since the time when Megacles the archon persuaded the conspirators

with Cylon that took sanctuary in Minerva's temple to come down and

stand to a fair trial.  And they, tying a thread to the image, and

holding one end of it, went down to the tribunal; but when they came to

the temple of the Furies, the thread broke of its own accord, upon

which, as if the goddess had refused them protection, they were seized

by Megacles and the other magistrates; as many as were without the

temples were stoned, those that fled for sanctuary were butchered at the

altar, and only those escaped who made supplication to the wives of the

magistrates.  But they from that time were considered under pollution,

and regarded with hatred.  The remainder of the faction of Cylon grew

strong again, and had continual quarrels with the family of Megacles;

and now the quarrel being at its height, and the people divided, Solon,

being in reputation, interposed with the chiefest of the Athenians, and

by entreaty and admonition persuaded the polluted to submit to a trial

and the decision of three hundred noble citizens.  And Myron of Phlya

being their accuser, they were found guilty, and as many as were then

alive were banished, and the bodies of the dead were dug up, and

scattered beyond the confines of the country.  In the midst of these

distractions, the Megarians falling upon them, they lost Nisaea and

Salamis again; besides, the city was disturbed with superstitious fears

and strange appearances, and the priests declared that the sacrifices

intimated some villanies and pollutions that were to be expiated.  Upon

this, they sent for Epimenides the Phaestian from Crete, who is counted

the seventh wise man by those that will not admit Periander into the

number.  He seems to have been thought a favorite of heaven, possessed

of knowledge in all the supernatural and ritual parts of religion; and,

therefore, the men of his age called him a new Cures, and son of a

nymph named Balte.  When he came to Athens, and grew acquainted with

Solon, he served him in many instances, and prepared the way for his

legislation.  He made them moderate in their forms of worship, and

abated their mourning by ordering some sacrifices presently after the

funeral, and taking off those severe and barbarous ceremonies which the

women usually practiced; but the greatest benefit was his purifying and

sanctifying the city, by certain propitiatory and expiatory lustrations,

and foundation of sacred buildings; by that means making them more

submissive to justice, and more inclined to harmony.  It is reported

that, looking upon Munychia, and considering a long while, he said to

those that stood by, "How blind is man in future things! for did the

Athenians foresee what mischief this would do their city, they would

even eat it with their own teeth to be rid of it."  A similar

anticipation is ascribed to Thales; they say he commanded his friends to

bury him in an obscure and contemned quarter of the territory of

Miletus, saying that it should some day be the marketplace of the

Milesians.  Epimenides, being much honored, and receiving from the city

rich offers of large gifts and privileges, requested but one branch of

the sacred olive, and, on that being granted, returned.

The Athenians, now the Cylonian sedition was over and the polluted gone

into banishment, fell into their old quarrels about the government,

there being as many different parties as there were diversities in the

country. The Hill quarter favored democracy, the Plain, oligarchy, and

those that lived by the Sea-side stood for a mixed sort of government,

and so hindered either of the other parties from prevailing.  And the

disparity of fortune between the rich and the poor, at that time, also

reached its height; so that the city seemed to be in a truly dangerous

condition, and no other means for freeing it from disturbances and

settling it, to be possible but a despotic power.  All the people were

indebted to the rich; and either they tilled their land for their

creditors, paying them a sixth part of the increase, and were,

therefore, called Hectemorii and Thetes, or else they engaged their body

for the debt, and might be seized, and either sent into slavery at home,

or sold to strangers; some (for no law forbade it) were forced to sell

their children, or fly their country to avoid the cruelty of their

creditors; but the most part and the bravest of them began to combine

together and encourage one another to stand to it, to choose a leader,

to liberate the condemned debtors, divide the land,

and change the government.

Then the wisest of the Athenians, perceiving Solon was of all men the

only one not implicated in the troubles, that he had not joined in the

exactions of the rich, and was not involved in the necessities of the

poor, pressed him to succor the commonwealth and compose the

differences.  Though Phanias the Lesbian affirms, that Solon, to save

his country, put a trick upon both parties, and privately promised the

poor a division of the lands, and the rich, security for their debts.

Solon, however, himself, says that it was reluctantly at first that he

engaged in state affairs, being afraid of the pride of one party and the

greediness of the other; he was chosen archon, however, after

Philombrotus, and empowered to be an arbitrator and lawgiver; the rich

consenting because he was wealthy, the poor because he was honest.

There was a saying of his current before the election, that when things

are even there never can be war, and this pleased both parties, the

wealthy and the poor; the one conceiving him to mean, when all have

their fair proportion; the others, when all are absolutely equal.  Thus,

there being great hopes on both sides, the chief men pressed Solon to

take the government into his own hands, and, when he was once settled,

manage the business freely and according to his pleasure; and many of

the commons, perceiving it would be a difficult change to be effected by

law and reason, were willing to have one wise and just man set over the

affairs; and some say that Solon had this oracle from Apollo—

Take the mid-seat, and be the vessel's guide;

Many in Athens are upon your side.

But chiefly his familiar friends chid him for disaffecting monarchy only

because of the name, as if the virtue of the ruler could not make it a

lawful form; Euboea had made this experiment when it chose Tynnondas,

and Mitylene, which had made Pittacus its prince; yet this could not

shake Solon's resolution; but, as they say, he replied to his friends,

that it was true a tyranny was a very fair spot, but it had no way down

from it; and in a copy of verses to Phocus he writes.—

—that I spared my land,

And withheld from usurpation and from violence my hand,

And forbore to fix a stain and a disgrace on my good name,

I regret not; I believe that it will be my chiefest fame.

From which it is manifest that he was a man of great reputation before

he gave his laws.  The several mocks that were put upon him for refusing

the power, he records in these words,—

Solon surely was a dreamer, and a man of simple mind;

When the gods would give him fortune, he of his own will declined;

When the net was full of fishes, over-heavy thinking it,

He declined to haul it up, through want of heart and want of wit.

Had but I that chance of riches and of kingship, for one day,

I would give my skin for flaying, and my house to die away.

Thus he makes the many and the low people speak of him.  Yet, though he

refused the government, he was not too mild in the affair; he did not

show himself mean and submissive to the powerful, nor make his laws to

pleasure those that chose him.  For where it was well before, he applied

no remedy, nor altered anything, for fear lest,

Overthrowing altogether and disordering the state,

he should be too weak to new-model and recompose it to a tolerable

condition; but what he thought he could effect by persuasion upon the

pliable, and by force upon the stubborn, this he did,

as he himself says,

With force and justice working both one.

And, therefore, when he was afterwards asked if he had left the

Athenians the best laws that could be given, he replied, "The best they

could receive."  The way which, the moderns say, the Athenians have of

softening the badness of a thing, by ingeniously giving it some pretty

and innocent appellation, calling harlots, for example, mistresses,

tributes customs, a garrison a guard, and the jail the chamber, seems

originally to have been Solon's contrivance, who called canceling debts

Seisacthea, a relief, or disencumbrance.  For the first thing which he

settled was, that what debts remained should be forgiven, and no man,

for the future, should engage the body of his debtor for security.

Though some, as Androtion, affirm that the debts were not canceled, but

the interest only lessened, which sufficiently pleased the people; so

that they named this benefit the Seisacthea, together with the enlarging

their measures, and raising the value of their money; for he made a

pound, which before passed for seventy-three drachmas, go for a

hundred; so that, though the number of pieces in the payment was equal,

the value was less; which proved a considerable benefit to those that

were to discharge great debts, and no loss to the creditors.  But most

agree that it was the taking off the debts that was called Seisacthea,

which is confirmed by some places in his poem, where he takes honor to

himself, that

The mortgage-stones that covered her, by me

Removed, —the land that was a slave is free;

that some who had been seized for their debts he had brought back from

other countries, where

—so far their lot to roam,

They had forgot the language of their home;

and some he had set at liberty,—

Who here in shameful servitude were held.

While he was designing this, a most vexatious thing happened; for when

he had resolved to take off the debts, and was considering the proper

form and fit beginning for it, he told some of his friends, Conon,

Clinias, and Hipponicus, in whom he had a great deal of confidence, that

he would not meddle with the lands, but only free the people from their

debts; upon which, they, using their advantage, made haste and borrowed

some considerable sums of money, and purchased some large farms; and

when the law was enacted, they kept the possessions, and would not

return the money; which brought Solon into great suspicion and dislike,

as if he himself had not been abused, but was concerned in the

contrivance.  But he presently stopped this suspicion, by releasing his

debtors of five talents (for he had lent so much), according to the law;

others, as Polyzelus the Rhodian, say fifteen; his friends, however,

were ever afterward called Chreocopidae, repudiators.

In this he pleased neither party, for the rich were angry for their

money, and the poor that the land was not divided, and, as Lycurgus

ordered in his commonwealth, all men reduced to equality.  He, it is

true, being the eleventh from Hercules, and having reigned many years in

Lacedaemon, had got a great reputation and friends and power, which he

could use in modeling his state; and, applying force more than

persuasion, insomuch that he lost his eye in the scuffle, was able to

employ the most effectual means for the safety and harmony of a state,

by not permitting any to be poor or rich in his commonwealth.  Solon

could not rise to that in his polity, being but a citizen of the middle

classes; yet he acted fully up to the height of his power, having

nothing but the good-will and good opinion of his citizens to rely on;

and that he offended the most part, who looked for another result, he

declares in the words,

Formerly they boasted of me vainly; with averted eyes

Now they look askance upon me; friends no more, but enemies.

And yet had any other man, he says, received the same power,

He would not have forborne, nor let alone,

But made the fattest of the milk his own.

Soon, however, becoming sensible of the good that was done, they laid by

their grudges, made a public sacrifice, calling it Seisacthea, and chose

Solon to new-model and make laws for the commonwealth, giving him the

entire power over everything, their magistracies, their assemblies,

courts, and councils; that he should appoint the number, times of

meeting, and what estate they must have that could be capable of these,

and dissolve or continue any of the present constitutions,

according to his pleasure.

First, then, he repealed all Draco's laws, except those concerning

homicide, because they were too severe, and the punishments too great;

for death was appointed for almost all offenses, insomuch that those

that were convicted of idleness were to die, and those that stole a

cabbage or an apple to suffer even as villains that committed sacrilege

or murder.  So that Demades, in after time, was thought to have said

very happily, that Draco's laws were written not with ink, but blood;

and he himself, being once asked why he made death the punishment of

most offenses, replied, "Small ones deserve that, and I have no higher

for the greater crimes."

Next, Solon, being willing to continue the magistracies in the hands of

the rich men, and yet receive the people into the other part of the

government, took an account of the citizens' estates, and those that

were worth five hundred measures of fruits, dry and liquid, he placed in

the first rank, calling them Pentacosiomedimni; those that could keep an

horse, or were worth three hundred measures, were named Hippada

Teluntes, and made the second class; the Zeugitae, that had two hundred

measures, were in the third; and all the others were called Thetes, who

were not admitted to any office, but could come to the assembly, and act

as jurors; which at first seemed nothing, but afterwards was found an

enormous privilege, as almost every matter of dispute came before them

in this latter capacity.  Even in the cases which he assigned to the

archons' cognizance, he allowed an appeal to the courts.  Besides, it is

said that he was obscure and ambiguous in the wording of his laws, on

purpose to increase the honor of his courts; for since their differences

could not be adjusted by the letter, they would have to bring all their

causes to the judges, who thus were in a manner masters of the laws.  Of

this equalization he himself makes mention in this manner:

Such power I gave the people as might do,

Abridged not what they had, now lavished new.

Those that were great in wealth and high in place,

My counsel likewise kept from all disgrace.

Before them both I held my shield of might,

And let not either touch the other's right.

And for the greater security of the weak commons, he gave general

liberty of indicting for an act of injury; if any one was beaten,

maimed, or suffered any violence, any man that would and was able, might

prosecute the wrongdoer; intending by this to accustom the citizens,

like members of the same body, to resent and be sensible of one

another's injuries.  And there is a saying of his agreeable to this law,

for, being asked what city was best modeled, "That," said he, "where

those that are not injured try and punish the unjust as much as those

that are."

When he had constituted the Areopagus of those who had been yearly

archons, of which he himself was a member therefore, observing that the

people, now free from their debts, were unsettled and imperious, he

formed another council of four hundred, a hundred out of each of the

four tribes, which was to inspect all matters before they were

propounded to the people, and to take care that nothing but what had

been first examined should be brought before the general assembly.  The

upper council, or Areopagus, he made inspectors and keepers of the laws,

conceiving that the commonwealth, held by these two councils, like

anchors, would be less liable to be tossed by tumults, and the people be

more at quiet.  Such is the general statement, that Solon instituted the

Areopagus; which seems to be confirmed, because Draco makes no mention

of the Areopagites, but in all causes of blood refers to the Ephetae;

yet Solon's thirteenth table contains the eighth law set down in these

very words:  "Whoever before Solon's archonship were disfranchised, let

them be restored, except those that, being condemned by the Areopagus,

Ephetae, or in the Prytaneum by the kings, for homicide, murder, or

designs against the government, were in banishment when this law was

made;" and these words seem to show that the Areopagus existed before

Solon's laws, for who could be condemned by that council before his

time, if he was the first that instituted the court?  unless, which is

probable, there is some ellipsis, or want of precision, in the language,

and it should run thus, — "Those that are convicted of such offenses as

belong to the cognizance of the Areopagites, Ephetae, or the Prytanes,

when this law was made," shall remain still in disgrace, whilst others

are restored; of this the reader must judge.

Amongst his other laws, one is very peculiar and surprising, which

disfranchises all who stand neuter in a sedition; for it seems he would

not have any one remain insensible and regardless of the public good,

and, securing his private affairs, glory that he has no feeling of the

distempers of his country; but at once join with the good party and

those that have the right upon their side, assist and venture with them,

rather than keep out of harm's way and watch who would get the better.

It seems an absurd and foolish law which permits an heiress, if her

lawful husband fail her, to take his nearest kinsman; yet some say this

law was well contrived against those, who, conscious of their own

unfitness, yet, for the sake of the portion, would match with heiresses,

and make use of law to put a violence upon nature; for now, since she

can quit him for whom she pleases, they would either abstain from such

marriages, or continue them with disgrace, and suffer for their

covetousness and designed affront; it is well done, moreover, to confine

her to her husband's nearest kinsman, that the children may be of the

same family.  Agreeable to this is the law that the bride and bridegroom

shall be shut into a chamber, and eat a quince together; and that the

husband of an heiress shall consort with her thrice a month; for though

there be no children, yet it is an honor and due affection which an

husband ought to pay to a virtuous, chaste wife; it takes off all petty

differences, and will not permit their little quarrels

to proceed to a rupture.

In all other marriages he forbade dowries to be given; the wife was to

have three suits of clothes, a little inconsiderable household stuff,

and that was all; for he would not have marriages contracted for gain or

an estate, but for pure love, kind affection, and birth of children.

When the mother of Dionysius desired him to marry her to one of his

citizens, "Indeed," said he, "by my tyranny I have broken my country's

laws, but cannot put a violence upon those of nature by an unseasonable

marriage."  Such disorder is never to be suffered in a commonwealth, nor

such unseasonable and unloving and unperforming marriages, which attain

no due end or fruit; any provident governor or lawgiver might say to an

old man that takes a young wife what is said to Philoctetes

in the tragedy,—

Truly, in a fit state thou to marry!

and if he finds a young man, with a rich and elderly wife, growing fat

in his place, like the partridges, remove him to a young woman of proper

age.  And of this enough.

Another commendable law of Solon's is that which forbids men to speak

evil of the dead; for it is pious to think the deceased sacred, and

just, not to meddle with those that are gone, and politic, to prevent

the perpetuity of discord.  He likewise forbade them to speak evil of

the living in the temples, the courts of justice, the public offices, or

at the games, or else to pay three drachmas to the person, and two to

the public.  For never to be able to control passion shows a weak nature

and ill-breeding; and always to moderate it is very hard, and to some

impossible.  And laws must look to possibilities, if the maker designs

to punish few in order to their amendment, and not many to no purpose.

He is likewise much commended for his law concerning wills; for before

him none could be made, but all the wealth and estate of the deceased

belonged to his family; but he, by permitting them, if they had no

children, to bestow it on whom they pleased, showed that he esteemed

friendship a stronger tie than kindred, and affection than necessity;

and made every man's estate truly his own.  Yet he allowed not all sorts

of legacies, but those only which were not extorted by the frenzy of a

disease, charms, imprisonment, force, or the persuasions of a wife; with

good reason thinking that being seduced into wrong was as bad as being

forced, and that between deceit and necessity, flattery and compulsion,

there was little difference, since both may equally suspend

the exercise of reason.

He regulated the walks, feasts, and mourning of the women, and took away

everything that was either unbecoming or immodest; when they walked

abroad, no more than three articles of dress were allowed them; an

obol's worth of meat and drink; and no basket above a cubit high; and at

night they were not to go about unless in a chariot with a torch before

them.  Mourners tearing themselves to raise pity, and set wailings, and

at one man's funeral to lament for another, he forbade.  To offer an ox

at the grave was not permitted, nor to bury above three pieces of dress

with the body, or visit the tombs of any besides their own family,

unless at the very funeral; most of which are likewise forbidden by our

laws, but this is further added in ours, that those that are convicted

of extravagance in their mournings, are to be punished as soft and

effeminate by the censors of women.

Observing the city to be filled with persons that flocked from all parts

into Attica for security of living, and that most of the country was

barren and unfruitful, and that traders at sea import nothing to those

that could give them nothing in exchange, he turned his citizens to

trade, and made a law that no son should be obliged to relieve a father

who had not bred him up to any calling.  It is true, Lycurgus, having a

city free from all strangers, and land, according to Euripides,

Large for large hosts, for twice their number much,

and, above all, an abundance of laborers about Sparta, who should not be

left idle, but be kept down with continual toil and work, did well to

take off his citizens from laborious and mechanical occupations, and

keep them to their arms, and teach them only the art of war.  But Solon,

fitting his laws to the state of things, and not making things to suit

his laws, and finding the ground scarce rich enough to maintain the

husbandmen, and altogether incapable of feeding an unoccupied and

leisurely multitude, brought trades into credit, and ordered the

Areopagites to examine how every man got his living, and chastise the

idle.  But that law was yet more rigid which, as Heraclides Ponticus

delivers, declared the sons of unmarried mothers not obliged to relieve

their fathers; for he that avoids the honorable form of union shows that

he does not take a woman for children, but for pleasure, and thus gets

his just reward, and has taken away from himself every title to upbraid

his children, to whom he has made their very birth

a scandal and reproach.

Solon's laws in general about women are his strangest; for he permitted

any one to kill an adulterer that found him in the act; but if any one

forced a free woman, a hundred drachmas was the fine; if he enticed her,

twenty; except those that sell themselves openly, that is, harlots, who

go openly to those that hire them.  He made it unlawful to sell a

daughter or a sister, unless, being yet unmarried, she was found wanton.

Now it is irrational to punish the same crime sometimes very severely

and without remorse, and sometimes very lightly, and, as it were, in

sport, with a trivial fine; unless, there being little money then in

Athens, scarcity made those mulcts the more grievous punishment.  In the

valuation for sacrifices, a sheep and a bushel were both estimated at a

drachma; the victor in the Isthmian games was to have for reward a

hundred drachmas; the conqueror in the Olympian, five hundred; he that

brought a wolf, five drachmas; for a whelp, one; the former sum, as

Demetrius the Phalerian asserts, was the value of an ox, the latter, of

a sheep.  The prices which Solon, in his sixteenth table, sets on choice

victims, were naturally far greater; yet they, too, are very low in

comparison of the present.  The Athenians were, from the beginning, great

enemies to wolves, their fields being better for pasture than corn.

Some affirm their tribes did not take their names from the sons of Ion,

but from the different sorts of occupation that they followed; the

soldiers were called Hoplitae, the craftsmen Ergades, and, of the

remaining two, the farmers Gedeontes,

and the shepherds and graziers Aegicores.

Since the country has but few rivers, lakes, or large springs, and many

used wells which they had dug, there was a law made, that, where there

was a public well within a hippicon, that is, four furlongs, all should

draw at that; but, when it was farther off, they should try and procure

a well of their own; and, if they had dug ten fathom deep and could find

no water, they had liberty to fetch a pitcherful of four gallons and a

half in a day from their neighbors'; for he thought it prudent to make

provision against want, but not to supply laziness.  He showed skill in

his orders about planting, for any one that would plant another tree was

not to set it within five feet of his neighbor's field; but if a fig or

an olive, not within nine; for their roots spread farther, nor can they

be planted near all sorts of trees without damage, for they draw away

the nourishment, and in some cases are noxious by their effluvia.  He

that would dig a pit or a ditch was to dig it at the distance of its own

depth from his neighbor's ground; and he that would raise stocks of bees

was not to place them within three hundred feet of those which another

had already raised.

He permitted only oil to be exported, and those that exported any other

fruit, the archon was solemnly to curse, or else pay an hundred drachmas

himself; and this law was written in his first table, and, therefore,

let none think it incredible, as some affirm, that the exportation of

figs was once unlawful, and the informer against the delinquents called

a sycophant.  He made a law, also, concerning hurts and injuries from

beasts, in which he commands the master of any dog that bit a man to

deliver him up with a log about his neck, four and a half feet long; a

happy device for men's security.  The law concerning naturalizing

strangers is of doubtful character; he permitted only those to be made

free of Athens who were in perpetual exile from their own country, or

came with their whole family to trade there; this he did, not to

discourage strangers, but rather to invite them to a permanent

participation in the privileges of the government; and, besides, he

thought those would prove the more faithful citizens who had been forced

from their own country, or voluntarily forsook it.  The law of public

entertainment (parasitein is his name for it) is, also, peculiarly

Solon's, for if any man came often, or if he that was invited refused,

they were punished, for he concluded that one was greedy, the other a

contemner of the state.

All his laws he established for an hundred years, and wrote them on

wooden tables or rollers, named axones, which might be turned round in

oblong cases; some of their relics were in my time still to be seen in

the Prytaneum, or common hall, at Athens.  These, as Aristotle states,

were called cyrbes, and there is a passage of Cratinus the comedian,

By Solon, and by Draco, if you please,

Whose Cyrbes make the fires that parch our peas.

But some say those are properly cyrbes, which contain laws concerning

sacrifices and the rites of religion, and all the others axones.  The

council all jointly swore to confirm the laws, and every one of the

Thesmothetae vowed for himself at the stone in the marketplace, that, if

he broke any of the statutes, he would dedicate a golden statue, as big

as himself, at Delphi.

Observing the irregularity of the months, and that the moon does not

always rise and set with the sun, but often in the same day overtakes

and gets before him, he ordered the day should be named the Old and

New, attributing that part of it which was before the conjunction to

the old moon, and the rest to the new, he being the first, it seems,

that understood that verse of Homer,

The end and the beginning of the month,

and the following day he called the new moon.  After the twentieth he

did not count by addition, but, like the moon itself in its wane, by

subtraction; thus up to the thirtieth.

Now when these laws were enacted, and some came to Solon every day, to

commend or dispraise them, and to advise, if possible, to leave out, or

put in something, and many criticized, and desired him to explain, and

tell the meaning of such and such a passage, he, knowing that to do it

was useless, and not to do it would get him ill-will, and desirous to

bring himself out of all straits, and to escape all displeasure and

exceptions, it being a hard thing, as he himself says,

In great affairs to satisfy all sides,

as an excuse for traveling, bought a trading vessel, and, having

obtained leave for ten years' absence, departed, hoping that by that

time his laws would have become familiar.

His first voyage was for Egypt, and he lived, as he himself says,

Near Nilus' mouth, by fair Canopus' shore,

and spent some time in study with Psenophis of Heliopolis, and Sonchis

the Saite, the most learned of all the priests; from whom, as Plato

says, getting knowledge of the Atlantic story, he put it into a poem,

and proposed to bring it to the knowledge of the Greeks.  From thence he

sailed to Cyprus, where he was made much of by Philocyprus, one of the

kings there, who had a small city built by Demophon, Theseus's son, near

the river Clarius, in a strong situation, but incommodious and uneasy of

access.  Solon persuaded him, since there lay a fair plain below, to

remove, and build there a pleasanter and more spacious city.  And he

stayed himself, and assisted in gathering inhabitants, and in fitting it

both for defense and convenience of living; insomuch that many flocked

to Philocyprus, and the other kings imitated the design; and, therefore,

to honor Solon, he called the city Soli, which was formerly named Aepea.

And Solon himself, in his Elegies, addressing Philocyprus, mentions this

foundation in these words—

Long may you live, and fill the Solian throne,

Succeeded still by children of your own;

And from your happy island while I sail,

Let Cyprus send for me a favoring gale;

May she advance, and bless your new command,

Prosper your town, and send me safe to land.

That Solon should discourse with Croesus, some think not agreeable with

chronology; but I cannot reject so famous and well-attested a narrative,

and, what is more, so agreeable to Solon's temper, and so worthy his

wisdom and greatness of mind, because, forsooth, it does not agree with

some chronological canons, which thousands have endeavored to regulate,

and yet, to this day, could never bring their differing opinions to any

agreement.  They say, therefore, that Solon, coming to Croesus at his

request, was in the same condition as an inland man when first he goes

to see the sea; for as he fancies every river he meets with to be the

ocean, so Solon, as he passed through the court, and saw a great many

nobles richly dressed, and proudly attended with a multitude of guards

and footboys, thought every one had been the king, till he was brought

to Croesus, who was decked with every possible rarity and curiosity, in

ornaments of jewels, purple, and gold, that could make a grand and

gorgeous spectacle of him.  Now when Solon came before him, and seemed

not at all surprised, nor gave Croesus those compliments he expected,

but showed himself to all discerning eyes to be a man that despised the

gaudiness and petty ostentation of it, he commanded them to open all his

treasure houses, and carry him to see his sumptuous furniture and

luxuries though he did not wish it; Solon could judge of him well enough

by the first sight of him; and, when he returned from viewing all,

Croesus asked him if ever he had known a happier man than he.  And when

Solon answered that he had known one Tellus, a fellow-citizen of his

own, and told him that this Tellus had been an honest man, had had good

children, a competent estate, and died bravely in battle for his

country, Croesus took him for an ill-bred fellow and a fool, for not

measuring happiness by the abundance of gold and silver, and preferring

the life and death of a private and mean man before so much power and

empire.  He asked him, however, again, if, besides Tellus, he knew any

other man more happy.  And Solon replying, Yes, Cleobis and Biton, who

were loving brothers, and extremely dutiful sons to their mother, and,

when the oxen delayed her, harnessed themselves to the wagon, and drew

her to Juno's temple, her neighbors all calling her happy, and she

herself rejoicing; then, after sacrificing and feasting, they went to

rest, and never rose again, but died in the midst of their honor a

painless and tranquil death, "What," said Croesus, angrily, "and dost

not thou reckon us amongst the happy men at all?"  Solon, unwilling

either to flatter or exasperate him more, replied, "The gods, O king,

have given the Greeks all other gifts in moderate degree; and so our

wisdom, too, is a cheerful and a homely, not a noble and kingly wisdom;

and this, observing the numerous misfortunes that attend all conditions,

forbids us to grow insolent upon our present enjoyments, or to admire

any man's happiness that may yet, in course of time, suffer change.  For

the uncertain future has yet to come, with every possible variety of

fortune; and him only to whom the divinity has continued happiness unto

the end, we call happy; to salute as happy one that is still in the

midst of life and hazard, we think as little safe and conclusive as to

crown and proclaim as victorious the wrestler that is yet in the ring."

After this, he was dismissed, having given Croesus some pain,

but no instruction.

Aesop, who wrote the fables, being then at Sardis upon Croesus's

invitation, and very much esteemed, was concerned that Solon was so ill-

received, and gave him this advice: "Solon, let your converse with kings

be either short or seasonable."  "Nay, rather," replied Solon, "either

short or reasonable."  So at this time Croesus despised Solon; but when

he was overcome by Cyrus, had lost his city, was taken alive, condemned

to be burnt, and laid bound upon the pile before all the Persians and

Cyrus himself, he cried out as loud as possibly he could three times, "O

Solon!" and Cyrus being surprised, and sending some to inquire what man

or god this Solon was, whom alone he invoked in this extremity, Croesus

told him the whole story, saying, "He was one of the wise men of Greece,

whom I sent for, not to be instructed, or to learn any thing that I

wanted, but that he should see and be a witness of my happiness; the

loss of which was, it seems, to be a greater evil than the enjoyment was

a good; for when I had them they were goods only in opinion, but now the

loss of them has brought upon me intolerable and real evils.  And he,

conjecturing from what then was, this that now is, bade me look to the

end of my life, and not rely and grow proud upon uncertainties."  When

this was told Cyrus, who was a wiser man than Croesus, and saw in the

present example Solon's maxim confirmed, he not only freed Croesus from

punishment, but honored him as long as he lived; and Solon had the

glory, by the same saying, to save one king and instruct another.

When Solon was gone, the citizens began to quarrel; Lycurgus headed the

Plain; Megacles, the son of Alcmaeon, those to the Sea-side; and

Pisistratus the Hill-party, in which were the poorest people, the

Thetes, and greatest enemies to the rich; insomuch that, though the city

still used the new laws, yet all looked for and desired a change of

government, hoping severally that the change would be better for them,

and put them above the contrary faction.  Affairs standing thus, Solon

returned, and was reverenced by all, and honored; but his old age would

not permit him to be as active, and to speak in public, as formerly;

yet, by privately conferring with the heads of the factions, he

endeavored to compose the differences, Pisistratus appearing the most

tractable; for he was extremely smooth and engaging in his language, a

great friend to the poor, and moderate in his resentments; and what

nature had not given him, he had the skill to imitate; so that he was

trusted more than the others, being accounted a prudent and orderly man,

one that loved equality, and would be an enemy to any that moved against

the present settlement.  Thus he deceived the majority of people; but

Solon quickly discovered his character, and found out his design before

any one else; yet did not hate him upon this, but endeavored to humble

him, and bring him off from his ambition, and often told him and others,

that if any one could banish the passion for preeminence from his mind,

and cure him of his desire of absolute power, none would make a more

virtuous man or a more excellent citizen.  Thespis, at this time,

beginning to act tragedies, and the thing, because it was new, taking

very much with the multitude, though it was not yet made a matter of

competition, Solon, being by nature fond of hearing and learning

something new, and now, in his old age, living idly, and enjoying

himself, indeed, with music and with wine, went to see Thespis himself,

as the ancient custom was, act; and after the play was done, he

addressed him, and asked him if he was not ashamed to tell so many lies

before such a number of people; and Thespis replying that it was no harm

to say or do so in play, Solon vehemently struck his staff against the

ground: "Ay," said he, "if we honor and commend such play as this, we

shall find it some day in our business."

Now when Pisistratus, having wounded himself, was brought into the

marketplace in a chariot, and stirred up the people, as if he had been

thus treated by his opponents because of his political conduct, and a

great many were enraged and cried out, Solon, coming close to him, said,

"This, O son of Hippocrates, is a bad copy of Homer's Ulysses; you do,

to trick your countrymen, what he did to deceive his enemies."  After

this, the people were eager to protect Pisistratus, and met in an

assembly, where one Ariston making a motion that they should allow

Pisistratus fifty clubmen for a guard to his person, Solon opposed it,

and said, much to the same purport as what he has left us in his poems,

You dote upon his words and taking phrase;

and again,—

True, you are singly each a crafty soul,

But all together make one empty fool.

But observing the poor men bent to gratify Pisistratus, and tumultuous,

and the rich fearful and getting out of harm's way, he departed, saying

he was wiser than some and stouter than others; wiser than those that

did not understand the design, stouter than those that, though they

understood it, were afraid to oppose the tyranny.  Now, the people,

having passed the law, were not nice with Pisistratus about the number

of his clubmen, but took no notice of it, though he enlisted and kept as

many as he would, until he seized the Acropolis.  When that was done,

and the city in an uproar, Megacles, with all his family, at once fled;

but Solon, though he was now very old, and had none to back him, yet

came into the marketplace and made a speech to the citizens, partly

blaming their inadvertency and meanness of spirit, and in part urging

and exhorting them not thus tamely to lose their liberty; and likewise

then spoke that memorable saying, that, before, it was an easier task to

stop the rising tyranny, but now the greater and more glorious action to

destroy it, when it was begun already, and had gathered strength.  But

all being afraid to side with him, he returned home, and, taking his

arms, he brought them out and laid them in the porch before his door,

with these words: "I have done my part to maintain my country and my

laws," and then he busied himself no more.  His friends advising him to

fly, he refused; but wrote poems,

and thus reproached the Athenians in them,—

If now you suffer, do not blame the Powers,

For they are good, and all the fault was ours.

All the strongholds you put into his hands,

And now his slaves must do what he commands.

And many telling him that the tyrant would take his life for this, and

asking what he trusted to, that he ventured to speak so boldly, he

replied, "To my old age."  But Pisistratus, having got the command, so

extremely courted Solon, so honored him, obliged him, and sent to see

him, that Solon gave him his advice, and approved many of his actions;

for he retained most of Solon's laws, observed them himself, and

compelled his friends to obey.  And he himself, though already absolute

ruler, being accused of murder before the Areopagus, came quietly to

clear himself; but his accuser did not appear.  And he added other laws,

one of which is that the maimed in the wars should be maintained at the

public charge; this Heraclides Ponticus records, and that Pisistratus

followed Solon's example in this, who had decreed it in the case of one

Thersippus, that was maimed; and Theophrastus asserts that it was

Pisistratus, not Solon, that made that law against laziness, which was

the reason that the country was more productive,

and the city tranquiller.

Now Solon, having begun the great work in verse, the history or fable of

the Atlantic Island, which he had learned from the wise men in Sais, and

thought convenient for the Athenians to know, abandoned it; not, as

Plato says, by reason of want of time, but because of his age, and being

discouraged at the greatness of the task; for that he had leisure

enough, such verses testify, as

Each day grow older, and learn something new

and again,—

But now the Powers of Beauty, Song, and Wine,

Which are most men's delights, are also mine.

Plato, willing to improve the story of the Atlantic Island, as if it

were a fair estate that wanted an heir and came with some title to him,

formed, indeed, stately entrances, noble enclosures, large courts, such

as never yet introduced any story, fable, or poetic fiction; but,

beginning it late, ended his life before his work; and the reader's

regret for the unfinished part is the greater, as the satisfaction he

takes in that which is complete is extraordinary.  For as the city of

Athens left only the temple of Jupiter Olympius unfinished, so Plato,

amongst all his excellent works, left this only piece about the Atlantic

Island imperfect.  Solon lived after Pisistratus seized the government,

as Heraclides Ponticus asserts, a long time; but Phanias the Eresian

says not two full years; for Pisistratus began his tyranny when Comias

was archon, and Phanias says Solon died under Hegestratus, who succeeded

Comias.  The story that his ashes were scattered about the island

Salamis is too strange to be easily believed, or be thought anything

but a mere fable; and yet it is given, amongst other good authors, by

Aristotle, the philosopher.

POPLICOLA

Such was Solon.  To him we compare Poplicola, who received this later

title from the Roman people for his merit, as a noble accession to his

former name, Publius Valerius.  He descended from Valerius, a man

amongst the early citizens, reputed the principal reconciler of the

differences betwixt the Romans and Sabines, and one that was most

instrumental in persuading their kings to assent to peace and union.

Thus descended, Publius Valerius, as it is said, whilst Rome remained

under its kingly government, obtained as great a name from his eloquence

as from his riches, charitably employing the one in liberal aid to the

poor, the other with integrity and freedom in the service of justice;

thereby giving assurance, that, should the government fall into a

republic, he would become a chief man in the community.  The illegal and

wicked accession of Tarquinius Superbus to the crown, with his making

it, instead of kingly rule, the instrument of insolence and tyranny,

having inspired the people with a hatred to his reign, upon the death of

Lucretia (she killing herself after violence had been done to her), they

took an occasion of revolt; and Lucius Brutus, engaging in the change,

came to Valerius before all others, and, with his zealous assistance,

deposed the kings.  And whilst the people inclined towards the electing

one leader instead of their king, Valerius acquiesced, that to rule was

rather Brutus's due, as the author of the democracy.  But when the name

of monarchy was odious to the people, and a divided power appeared more

grateful in the prospect, and two were chosen to hold it, Valerius,

entertaining hopes that he might be elected consul with Brutus, was

disappointed; for, instead of Valerius, notwithstanding the endeavors of

Brutus, Tarquinius Collatinus was chosen, the husband of Lucretia, a man

noways his superior in merit.  But the nobles, dreading the return of

their kings, who still used all endeavors abroad and solicitations at

home, were resolved upon a chieftain of an intense hatred to them, and

noways likely to yield.

Now Valerius was troubled, that his desire to serve his country should

be doubted, because he had sustained no private injury from the

insolence of the tyrants.  He withdrew from the senate and practice of

the bar, quitting all public concerns; which gave an occasion of

discourse, and fear, too, lest his anger should reconcile him to the

king's side, and he should prove the ruin of the state, tottering as yet

under the uncertainties of a change.  But Brutus being doubtful of some

others, and determining to give the test to the senate upon the altars,

upon the day appointed Valerius came with cheerfulness into the forum,

and was the first man that took the oath, in no way to submit or yield

to Tarquin's propositions, but rigorously to maintain liberty; which

gave great satisfaction to the senate and assurance to the consuls, his

actions soon after showing the sincerity of his oath.  For ambassadors

came from Tarquin, with popular and specious proposals, whereby they

thought to seduce the people, as though the king had cast off all

insolence, and made moderation the only measure of his desires.  To this

embassy the consuls thought fit to give public audience, but Valerius

opposed it, and would not permit that the poorer people, who entertained

more fear of war than of tyranny, should have any occasion offered them,

or any temptations to new designs.  Afterwards other ambassadors

arrived, who declared their king would recede from his crown, and lay

down his arms, only capitulating for a restitution to himself, his

friends, and allies, of their moneys and estates to support them in

their banishment.  Now, several inclining to the request, and

Collatinus in particular favoring it, Brutus, a man of vehement and

unbending nature, rushed into the forum, there proclaiming his fellow-

consul to be a traitor, in granting subsidies to tyranny, and supplies

for a war to those to whom it was monstrous to allow so much as

subsistence in exile.  This caused an assembly of the citizens, amongst

whom the first that spake was Caius Minucius, a private man, who advised

Brutus, and urged the Romans to keep the property, and employ it against

the tyrants, rather than to remit it to the tyrants, to be used against

themselves.  The Romans, however, decided that whilst they enjoyed the

liberty they had fought for, they should not sacrifice peace for the

sake of money, but send out the tyrants' property after them.  This

question, however, of his property, was the least part of Tarquin's

design; the demand sounded the feelings of the people, and was

preparatory to a conspiracy which the ambassadors endeavored to excite,

delaying their return, under pretense of selling some of the goods and

reserving others to be sent away, till, in fine, they corrupted two of

the most eminent families in Rome, the Aquillian, which had three, and

the Vitellian, which had two senators.  These all were, by the mother's

side, nephews to Collatinus; besides which Brutus had a special alliance

to the Vitellii from his marriage with their sister, by whom he had

several children; two of whom, of their own age, their near relations

and daily companions, the Vitellii seduced to join in the plot, to ally

themselves to the great house and royal hopes of the Tarquins, and gain

emancipation from the violence and imbecility united of their father,

whose austerity to offenders they termed violence, while the imbecility

which he had long feigned, to protect himself from the tyrants, still,

it appears, was, in name at least, ascribed to him.  When upon these

inducements the youths came to confer with the Aquillii, all thought it

convenient to bind themselves in a solemn and dreadful oath, by tasting

the blood of a murdered man, and touching his entrails.  For which

design they met at the house of the Aquillii.  The building chosen for

the transaction was, as was natural, dark and unfrequented, and a slave

named Vindicius had, as it chanced, concealed himself there, not out of

design or any intelligence of the affair, but, accidentally being

within, seeing with how much haste and concern they came in, he was

afraid to be discovered, and placed himself behind a chest, where he was

able to observe their actions and overhear their debates.  Their

resolutions were to kill the consuls, and they wrote letters to Tarquin

to this effect, and gave them to the ambassadors, who were lodging upon

the spot with the Aquillii, and were present at the consultation.

Upon their departure, Vindicius secretly quitted the house, but was at a

loss what to do in the matter, for to arraign the sons before the father

Brutus, or the nephews before the uncle Collatinus, seemed equally (as

indeed it was) shocking; yet he knew no private Roman to whom he could

entrust secrets of such importance.  Unable, however, to keep silence,

and burdened with his knowledge, he went and addressed himself to

Valerius, whose known freedom and kindness of temper were an inducement;

as he was a person to whom the needy had easy access, and who never shut

his gates against the petitions or indigences of humble people.  But

when Vindicius came and made a complete discovery to him, his brother

Marcus and his own wife being present, Valerius was struck with

amazement, and by no means would dismiss the discoverer, but confined

him to the room, and placed his wife as a guard to the door, sending his

brother in the interim to beset the king's palace, and seize, if

possible, the writings there, and secure the domestics, whilst he, with

his constant attendance of clients and friends, and a great retinue of

attendants, repaired to the house of the Aquillii, who were, as it

chanced, absent from home; and so, forcing an entrance through the

gates, they lit upon the letters then lying in the lodgings of the

ambassadors.  Meantime the Aquillii returned in all haste, and, coming to

blows about the gate, endeavored a recovery of the letters.  The other

party made a resistance, and, throwing their gowns round their

opponents' necks, at last, after much struggling on both sides, made

their way with their prisoners through the streets into the forum.  The

like engagement happened about the king's palace, where Marcus seized

some other letters which it was designed should be conveyed away in the

goods, and, laying hands on such of the king's people as he could find,

dragged them also into the forum.  When the consuls had quieted the

tumult, Vindicius was brought out by the orders of Valerius, and the

accusation stated, and the letters were opened, to which the traitors

could make no plea.  Most of the people standing mute and sorrowful,

some only, out of kindness to Brutus, mentioning banishment, the tears

of Collatinus, attended with Valerius's silence, gave some hopes of

mercy.  But Brutus, calling his two sons by their names, "Canst not

thou," said he, "O Titus, or thou, Tiberius, make any defense against

the indictment?"  The question being thrice proposed, and no reply made,

he turned himself to the lictors, and cried, "What remains is your

duty."  They immediately seized the youths, and, stripping them of their

clothes, bound their hands behind them, and scourged their bodies with

their rods; too tragical a scene for others to look at; Brutus, however,

is said not to have turned aside his face, nor allowed the least glance

of pity to soften and smooth his aspect of rigor and austerity; but

sternly watched his children suffer, even till the lictors, extending

them on the ground, cut off their heads with an axe; then departed,

committing the rest to the judgment of his colleague.  An action truly

open alike to the highest commendation and the strongest censure; for

either the greatness of his virtue raised him above the impressions of

sorrow, or the extravagance of his misery took away all sense of it; but

neither seemed common, or the result of humanity, but either divine or

brutish.  Yet it is more reasonable that our judgment should yield to

his reputation, than that his merit should suffer detraction by the

weakness of our judgment; in the Romans' opinion, Brutus did a greater

work in the establishment of the government than Romulus in the

foundation of the city.

Upon Brutus's departure out of the forum, consternation, horror, and

silence for some time possessed all that reflected on what was done; the

easiness and tardiness, however, of Collatinus, gave confidence to the

Aquillii to request some time to answer their charge, and that

Vindicius, their servant, should be remitted into their hands, and no

longer harbored amongst their accusers.  The consul seemed inclined to

their proposal, and was proceeding to dissolve the assembly; but

Valerius would not suffer Vindicius, who was surrounded by his people,

to be surrendered, nor the meeting to withdraw without punishing the

traitors; and at length laid violent hands upon the Aquillii, and,

calling Brutus to his assistance, exclaimed against the unreasonable

course of Collatinus, to impose upon his colleague the necessity of

taking away the lives of his own sons, and yet have thoughts of

gratifying some women with the lives of traitors and public enemies.

Collatinus, displeased at this, and commanding Vindicius to be taken

away, the lictors made their way through the crowd and seized their man,

and struck all who endeavored a rescue.  Valerius's friends headed the

resistance, and the people cried out for Brutus, who, returning, on

silence being made, told them he had been competent to pass sentence by

himself upon his own sons, but left the rest to the suffrages of the

free citizens:  "Let every man speak that wishes, and persuade whom he

can."  But there was no need of oratory, for, it being referred to the

vote, they were returned condemned by all the suffrages, and were

accordingly beheaded.

Collatinus's relationship to the kings had, indeed, already rendered him

suspicious, and his second name, too, had made him obnoxious to the

people, who were loath to hear the very sound of Tarquin; but after this

had happened, perceiving himself an offense to every one, he

relinquished his charge and departed from the city.  At the new

elections in his room, Valerius obtained, with high honor, the

consulship, as a just reward of his zeal; of which he thought Vindicius

deserved a share, whom he made, first of all freedmen, a citizen of

Rome, and gave him the privilege of voting in what tribe soever he was

pleased to be enrolled; other freedmen received the right of suffrage a

long time after from Appius, who thus courted popularity; and from this

Vindicius, a perfect manumission is called to this day vindicta.  This

done, the goods of the kings were exposed to plunder, and the palace to

ruin.

The pleasantest part of the field of Mars, which Tarquin had owned, was

devoted to the service of that god; it happening to be harvest season,

and the sheaves yet being on the ground, they thought it not proper to

commit them to the flail, or unsanctify them with any use; and,

therefore, carrying them to the river side, and trees withal that were

cut down, they cast all into the water, dedicating the soil, free from

all occupation, to the deity.  Now, these thrown in, one upon another,

and closing together, the stream did not bear them far, but where the

first were carried down and came to a bottom, the remainder, finding no

farther conveyance, were stopped and interwoven one with another; the

stream working the mass into a firmness, and washing down fresh mud.

This, settling there, became an accession of matter, as well as cement,

to the rubbish, insomuch that the violence of the waters could not

remove it, but forced and compressed it all together.  Thus its bulk and

solidity gained it new subsidies, which gave it extension enough to stop

on its way most of what the stream brought down.  This is now a sacred

island, lying by the city, adorned with temples of the gods, and walks,

and is called in the Latin tongue inter duos pontes.  Though some say

this did not happen at the dedication of Tarquin's field, but in after-

times, when Tarquinia, a vestal priestess, gave an adjacent field to the

public, and obtained great honors in consequence, as, amongst the rest,

that of all women her testimony alone should be received; she had also

the liberty to marry, but refused it; thus some tell the story.

Tarquin, despairing of a return to his kingdom by the conspiracy, found

a kind reception amongst the Tuscans, who, with a great army, proceeded

to restore him.  The consuls headed the Romans against them, and made

their rendezvous in certain holy places, the one called the Arsian

grove, the other the Aesuvian meadow.  When they came into action,

Aruns, the son of Tarquin, and Brutus, the Roman consul, not

accidentally encountering each other, but out of hatred and rage, the

one to avenge tyranny and enmity to his country, the other his

banishment, set spurs to their horses, and, engaging with more fury than

forethought, disregarding their own security, fell together in the

combat.  This dreadful onset hardly was followed by a more favorable

end; both armies, doing and receiving equal damage, were separated by a

storm.  Valerius was much concerned, not knowing what the result of the

day was, and seeing his men as well dismayed at the sight of their own

dead, as rejoiced at the loss of the enemy; so apparently equal in the

number was the slaughter on either side.  Each party, however, felt

surer of defeat from the actual sight of their own dead, than they could

feel of victory from conjecture about those of their adversaries.  The

night being come (and such as one may presume must follow such a

battle), and the armies laid to rest, they say that the grove shook, and

uttered a voice, saying that the Tuscans had lost one man more than the

Romans; clearly a divine announcement; and the Romans at once received

it with shouts and expressions of joy; whilst the Tuscans, through fear

and amazement, deserted their tents, and were for the most part

dispersed.  The Romans, falling upon the remainder, amounting to nearly

five thousand, took them prisoners, and plundered the camp; when they

numbered the dead, they found on the Tuscans' side eleven thousand and

three hundred, exceeding their own loss but by one man.  This fight

happened upon the last day of February, and Valerius triumphed in honor

of it, being the first consul that drove in with a four-horse chariot;

which sight both appeared magnificent, and was received with an

admiration free from envy or offense (as some suggest) on the part of

the spectators; it would not otherwise have been continued with so much

eagerness and emulation through all the after ages.  The people

applauded likewise the honors he did to his colleague, in adding to his

obsequies a funeral oration; which was so much liked by the Romans, and

found so good a reception, that it became customary for the best men to

celebrate the funerals of great citizens with speeches in their

commendation; and their antiquity in Rome is affirmed to be greater than

in Greece, unless, with the orator Anaximenes, we make Solon the first

author.

Yet some part of Valerius's behavior did give offense and disgust to the

people, because Brutus, whom they esteemed the father of their liberty,

had not presumed to rule without a colleague, but united one and then

another to him in his commission; while Valerius, they said, centering

all authority in himself, seemed not in any sense a successor to Brutus

in the consulship, but to Tarquin in the tyranny; he might make verbal

harangues to Brutus's memory, yet, when he was attended with all the

rods and axes, proceeding down from a house than which the king's house

that he had demolished had not been statelier, those actions showed him

an imitator of Tarquin.  For, indeed, his dwelling house on the Velia

was somewhat imposing in appearance, hanging over the forum, and

overlooking all transactions there; the access to it was hard, and to

see him far of coming down, a stately and royal spectacle.  But Valerius

showed how well it were for men in power and great offices to have ears

that give admittance to truth before flattery; for upon his friends

telling him that he displeased the people, he contended not, neither

resented it, but while it was still night, sending for a number of

workpeople, pulled down his house and leveled it with the ground; so

that in the morning the people, seeing and flocking together, expressed

their wonder and their respect for his magnanimity, and their sorrow, as

though it had been a human being, for the large and beautiful house

which was thus lost to them by an unfounded jealousy, while its owner,

their consul, without a roof of his own, had to beg a lodging with his

friends.  For his friends received him, till a place the people gave him

was furnished with a house, though less stately than his own, where now

stands the temple, as it is called, of Vica Pota.

He resolved to render the government, as well as himself, instead of

terrible, familiar and pleasant to the people, and parted the axes from

the rods, and always, upon his entrance into the assembly, lowered these

also to the people, to show, in the strongest way, the republican

foundation of the government; and this the consuls observe to this day.

But the humility of the man was but a means, not, as they thought, of

lessening himself, but merely to abate their envy by this moderation;

for whatever he detracted from his authority he added to his real

power, the people still submitting with satisfaction, which they

expressed by calling him Poplicola, or people-lover, which name had the

preeminence of the rest, and, therefore, in the sequel of this narrative

we shall use no other.

He gave free leave to any to sue for the consulship; but before the

admittance of a colleague, mistrusting the chances, lest emulation or

ignorance should cross his designs, by his sole authority enacted his

best and most important measures.  First, he supplied the vacancies of

the senators, whom either Tarquin long before had put to death, or the

war lately cut off; those that he enrolled, they write, amounted to a

hundred and sixty-four; afterwards he made several laws which added much

to the people's liberty, in particular one granting offenders the

liberty of appealing to the people from the judgment of the consuls; a

second, that made it death to usurp any magistracy without the people's

consent; a third, for the relief of poor citizens, which, taking off

their taxes, encouraged their labors; another, against disobedience to

the consuls, which was no less popular than the rest, and rather to the

benefit of the commonalty than to the advantage of the nobles, for it

imposed upon disobedience the penalty of ten oxen and two sheep; the

price of a sheep being ten obols, of an ox, a hundred.  For the use of

money was then infrequent amongst the Romans, but their wealth in cattle

great; even now pieces of property are called peculia, from pecus,

cattle; and they had stamped upon their most ancient money an ox, a

sheep, or a hog; and surnamed their sons Suillii, Bubulci, Caprarii,

and Porcii, from caprae, goats, and porci, hogs.

Amidst this mildness and moderation, for one excessive fault he

instituted one excessive punishment; for he made it lawful without trial

to take away any man's life that aspired to a tyranny, and acquitted the

slayer, if he produced evidence of the crime; for though it was not

probable for a man, whose designs were so great, to escape all notice;

yet because it was possible he might, although observed, by force

anticipate judgment, which the usurpation itself would then preclude, he

gave a license to any to anticipate the usurper.  He was honored

likewise for the law touching the treasury; for because it was necessary

for the citizens to contribute out of their estates to the maintenance

of wars, and he was unwilling himself to be concerned in the care of it,

or to permit his friends, or indeed to let the public money pass into

any private house, he allotted the temple of Saturn for the treasury, in

which to this day they deposit the tribute-money, and granted the people

the liberty of choosing two young men as quaestors, or treasurers.  The

first were Publius Veturius and Marcus Minucius; and a large sum was

collected, for they assessed one hundred and thirty thousand, excusing

orphans and widows from the payment.  After these dispositions, he

admitted Lucretius, the father of Lucretia, as his colleague, and gave

him the precedence in the government, by resigning the fasces to him,

as due to his years, which privilege of seniority continued to our time.

But within a few days Lucretius died, and in a new election Marcus

Horatius succeeded in that honor, and continued consul for the remainder

of the year.

Now, whilst Tarquin was making preparations in Tuscany for a second war

against the Romans, it is said a great portent occurred.  When Tarquin

was king, and had all but completed the buildings of the Capitol,

designing, whether from oracular advice or his own pleasure, to erect an

earthen chariot upon the top, he entrusted the workmanship to Tuscans of

the city Veii, but soon after lost his kingdom.  The work thus modeled,

the Tuscans set in a furnace, but the clay showed not those passive

qualities which usually attend its nature, to subside and be condensed

upon the evaporation of the moisture, but rose and swelled out to that

bulk, that, when solid and firm, notwithstanding the removal of the roof

and opening the walls of the furnace, it could not be taken out without

much difficulty.  The soothsayers looked upon this as a divine

prognostic of success and power to those that should possess it; and the

Tuscans resolved not to deliver it to the Romans, who demanded it, but

answered that it rather belonged to Tarquin than to those who had sent

him into exile.  A few days after, they had a horse-race there, with the

usual shows and solemnities, and as the charioteer, with his garland on

his head, was quietly driving the victorious chariot out of the ring,

the horses, upon no apparent occasion, taking fright, either by divine

instigation or by accident, hurried away their driver at full speed to

Rome; neither did his holding them in prevail, nor his voice, but he was

forced along with violence till, coming to the Capitol, he was thrown

out by the gate called Ratumena.  This occurrence raised wonder and fear

in the Veientines, who now permitted the delivery of the chariot.

The building of the temple of the Capitoline Jupiter had been vowed by

Tarquin, the son of Demaratus, when warring with the Sabines; Tarquinius

Superbus, his son or grandson, built, but could not dedicate it, because

he lost his kindom before it was quite finished.  And now that it was

completed with all its ornaments, Poplicola was ambitious to dedicate

it; but the nobility envied him that honor, as, indeed, also, in some

degree, those his prudence in making laws and conduct in wars entitled

him to.  Grudging him, at any rate, the addition of this, they urged

Horatius to sue for the dedication and, whilst Poplicola was engaged in

some military expedition, voted it to Horatius, and conducted him to the

Capitol, as though, were Poplicola present, they could not have carried

it.  Yet, some write, Poplicola was by lot destined against his will to

the expedition, the other to the dedication; and what happened in the

performance seems to intimate some ground for this conjecture; for, upon

the Ides of September, which happens about the full moon of the month

Metagitnion, the people having assembled at the Capitol and silence

being enjoined, Horatius, after the performance of other ceremonies,

holding the doors, according to custom, was proceeding to pronounce the

words of dedication, when Marcus, the brother of Poplicola, who had got

a place on purpose beforehand near the door, observing his opportunity,

cried, "O consul, thy son lies dead in the camp;" which made a great

impression upon all others who heard it, yet in nowise discomposed

Horatius, who returned merely the reply, "Cast the dead out whither you

please; I am not a mourner;" and so completed the dedication.  The news

was not true, but Marcus thought the lie might avert him from his

performance; but it argues him a man of wonderful self-possession,

whether he at once saw through the cheat, or, believing it as true,

showed no discomposure.

The same fortune attended the dedication of the second temple; the

first, as has been said, was built by Tarquin and dedicated by Horatius;

it was burnt down in the civil wars.  The second, Sylla built, and,

dying before the dedication, left that honor to Catulus; and when this

was demolished in the Vitellian sedition, Vespasian, with the same

success that attended him in other things, began a third, and lived to

see it finished, but did not live to see it again destroyed, as it

presently was; but was as fortunate in dying before its destruction, as

Sylla was the reverse in dying before the dedication of his.  For

immediately after Vespasian's death it was consumed by fire.  The

fourth, which now exists, was both built and dedicated by Domitian.  It

is said Tarquin expended forty thousand pounds of silver in the very

foundations; but the whole wealth of the richest private man in Rome

would not discharge the cost of the gilding of this temple in our days,

it amounting to above twelve thousand talents; the pillars were cut out

of Pentelican marble, of a length most happily proportioned to their

thickness; these we saw at Athens; but when they were cut anew at Rome

and polished, they did not gain so much in embellishment, as they lost

in symmetry, being rendered too taper and slender.  Should any one who

wonders at the costliness of the Capitol visit any one gallery in

Domitian's palace, or hall, or bath, or the apartments of his

concubines, Epicharmus's remark upon the prodigal, that

'Tis not beneficence, but, truth to say,

A mere disease of giving things away,

would be in his mouth in application to Domitian.  It is neither piety,

he would say, nor magnificence, but, indeed, a mere disease of building,

and a desire, like Midas, of converting every thing into gold or stone.

And thus much for this matter.

Tarquin, after the great battle wherein he lost his son in combat with

Brutus, fled to Clusium, and sought aid from Lars Porsenna, then one of

the most powerful princes of Italy, and a man of worth and generosity;

who assured him of assistance, immediately sending his commands to Rome

that they should receive Tarquin as their king, and, upon the Romans'

refusal, proclaimed war, and, having signified the time and place where

he intended his attack, approached with a great army.  Poplicola was, in

his absence, chosen consul a second time, and Titus Lucretius his

colleague, and, returning to Rome, to show a spirit yet loftier than

Porsenna's, built the city Sigliuria when Porsenna was already in the

neighborhood; and, walling it at great expense, there placed a colony of

seven hundred men, as being little concerned at the war.  Nevertheless,

Porsenna, making a sharp assault, obliged the defendants to retire to

Rome, who had almost in their entrance admitted the enemy into the city

with them; only Poplicola by sallying out at the gate prevented them,

and, joining battle by Tiber side, opposed the enemy, that pressed on

with their multitude, but at last, sinking under desperate wounds, was

carried out of the fight.  The same fortune fell upon Lucretius, so that

the Romans, being dismayed, retreated into the city for their security,

and Rome was in great hazard of being taken, the enemy forcing their way

on to the wooden bridge, where Horatius Cocles, seconded by two of the

first men in Rome, Herminius and Lartius, made head against them.

Horatius obtained this name from the loss of one of his eyes in the

wars, or, as others write, from the depressure of his nose, which,

leaving nothing in the middle to separate them, made both eyes appear

but as one; and hence, intending to say Cyclops, by a mispronunciation

they called him Cocles.  This Cocles kept the bridge, and held back the

enemy, till his own party broke it down behind, and then with his armor

dropped into the river, and swam to the hither side, with a wound in his

hip from a Tuscan spear.  Poplicola, admiring his courage, proposed at

once that the Romans should every one make him a present of a day's

provisions, and afterwards gave him as much land as he could plow round

in one day, and besides erected a brazen statue to his honor in the

temple of Vulcan, as a requital for the lameness caused by his wound.

But Porsenna laying close siege to the city, and a famine raging amongst

the Romans, also a new army of the Tuscans making incursions into the

country, Poplicola, a third time chosen consul, designed to make,

without sallying out, his defense against Porsenna, but, privately

stealing forth against the new army of the Tuscans, put them to flight,

and slew five thousand.  The story of Mucius is variously given; we,

like others, must follow the commonly received statement.  He was a man

endowed with every virtue, but most eminent in war; and, resolving to

kill Porsenna, attired himself in the Tuscan habit, and, using the

Tuscan language, came to the camp, and approaching the seat where the

king sat amongst his nobles, but not certainly knowing the king, and

fearful to inquire, drew out his sword, and stabbed one who he thought

had most the appearance of king.  Mucius was taken in the act, and

whilst he was under examination, a pan of fire was brought to the king,

who intended to sacrifice; Mucius thrust his right hand into the flame,

and whilst it burnt stood looking at Porsenna with a steadfast and

undaunted countenance; Porsenna at last in admiration dismissed him, and

returned his sword, reaching it from his seat; Mucius received it in his

left hand, which occasioned the name of Scaevola, left-handed, and said,

"I have overcome the terrors of Porsenna, yet am vanquished by his

generosity, and gratitude obliges me to disclose what no punishment

could extort;" and assured him then, that three hundred Romans, all of

the same resolution, lurked about his camp, only waiting for an

opportunity; he, by lot appointed to the enterprise, was not sorry that

he had miscarried in it, because so brave and good a man deserved rather

to be a friend to the Romans than an enemy.  To this Porsenna gave

credit, and thereupon expressed an inclination to a truce, not, I

presume, so much out of fear of the three hundred Romans, as in

admiration of the Roman courage.  All other writers call this man Mucius

Scaevola, yet Athenodorus, son of Sandon, in a book addressed to

Octavia, Caesar's sister, avers he was also called Postumus.

Poplicola, not so much esteeming Porsenna's enmity dangerous to Rome as

his friendship and alliance serviceable, was induced to refer the

controversy with Tarquin to his arbitration, and several times undertook

to prove Tarquin the worst of men, and justly deprived of his kingdom.

But Tarquin proudly replied he would admit no judge, much less Porsenna,

that had fallen away from his engagements; and Porsenna, resenting this

answer, and mistrusting the equity of his cause, moved also by the

solicitations of his son Aruns, who was earnest for the Roman interest,

made a peace on these conditions, that they should resign the land they

had taken from the Tuscans, and restore all prisoners and receive back

their deserters.  To confirm the peace, the Romans gave as hostages ten

sons of patrician parents, and as many daughters, amongst whom was

Valeria, the daughter of Poplicola.

Upon these assurances, Porsenna ceased from all acts of hostility, and

the young girls went down to the river to bathe, at that part where the

winding of the bank formed a bay and made the waters stiller and

quieter; and, seeing no guard, nor any one coming or going over, they

were encouraged to swim over, notwithstanding the depth and violence of

the stream.  Some affirm that one of them, by name Cloelia, passing over

on horseback, persuaded the rest to swim after; but, upon their safe

arrival, presenting themselves to Poplicola, he neither praised nor

approved their return, but was concerned lest he should appear less

faithful than Porsenna, and this boldness in the maidens should argue

treachery in the Romans; so that, apprehending them, he sent them back

to Porsenna.  But Tarquin's men, having intelligence of this, laid a

strong ambuscade on the other side for those that conducted them; and

while these were skirmishing together, Valeria, the daughter of

Poplicola, rushed through the enemy and fled, and with the assistance of

three of her attendants made good her escape, whilst the rest were

dangerously hedged in by the soldiers; but Aruns, Porsenna's son, upon

tidings of it, hastened to their rescue, and, putting the enemy to

flight, delivered the Romans.  When Porsenna saw the maidens returned,

demanding who was the author and adviser of the act, and understanding

Cloelia to be the person, he looked on her with a cheerful and benignant

countenance, and, commanding one of his horses to be brought,

sumptuously adorned, made her a present of it.  This is produced as

evidence by those who affirm that only Cloelia passed the river or.

horseback; those who deny it call it only the honor the Tuscan did to

her courage; a figure, however, on horseback stands in the Via Sacra, as

you go to the Palatium, which some say is the statue of Cloelia, others

of Valeria.  Porsenna, thus reconciled to the Romans, gave them a fresh

instance of his generosity, and commanded his soldiers to quit the camp

merely with their arms, leaving their tents, full of corn and other

stores, as a gift to the Romans.  Hence, even down to our time, when

there is a public sale of goods, they cry Porsenna's first, by way of

perpetual commemoration of his kindness.  There stood, also, by the

senate-house, a brazen statue of him, of plain and antique workmanship.

Afterwards, the Sabines making incursions upon the Romans, Marcus

Valerius, brother to Poplicola, was made consul, and with him Postumius

Tubertus.  Marcus, through the management of affairs by the conduct and

direct assistance of Poplicola, obtained two great victories, in the

latter of which he slew thirteen thousand Sabines without the loss of

one Roman, and was honored, as all accession to his triumph, with an

house built in the Palatium at the public charge; and whereas the doors

of other houses opened inward into the house, they made this to open

outward into the street, to intimate their perpetual public recognition

of his merit by thus continually making way for him.  The same fashion

in their doors the Greeks, they say, had of old universally, which

appears from their comedies, where those that are going out make a noise

at the door within, to give notice to those that pass by or stand near

the door, that the opening the door into the street might occasion no

surprisal.

The year after, Poplicola was made consul the fourth time, when a

confederacy of the Sabines and Latins threatened a war; a superstitious

fear also overran the city on the occasion of general miscarriages of

their women, no single birth coming to its due time.  Poplicola, upon

consultation of the Sibylline books, sacrificing to Pluto, and renewing

certain games commanded by Apollo, restored the city to more cheerful

assurance in the gods, and then prepared against the menaces of men.

There were appearances of treat preparation, and of a formidable

confederacy.  Amongst the Sabines there was one Appius Clausus, a man of

a great wealth and strength of body, but most eminent for his high

character and for his eloquence; yet, as is usually the fate of great

men, he could not escape the envy of others, which was much occasioned

by his dissuading the war, and seeming to promote the Roman interest,

with a view, it was thought, to obtaining absolute power in his own

country for himself.  Knowing how welcome these reports would be to the

multitude, and how offensive to the army and the abettors of the war, he

was afraid to stand a trial, but, having a considerable body of friends

and allies to assist him, raised a tumult amongst the Sabines, which

delayed the war.  Neither was Poplicola wanting, not only to understand

the grounds of the sedition, but to promote and increase it, and he

dispatched emissaries with instructions to Clausus, that Poplicola was

assured of his goodness and justice, and thought it indeed unworthy in

any man, however injured, to seek revenge upon his fellow-citizens; yet

if he pleased, for his own security, to leave his enemies and come to

Rome, he should be received, both in public and private, with the honor

his merit deserved, and their own glory required.  Appius, seriously

weighing the matter, came to the conclusion that it was the best

resource which necessity left him, and advising with his friends; and

they inviting again others in the same manner, he came to Rome, bringing

five thousand families, with their wives and children; people of the

quietest and steadiest temper of all the Sabines.  Poplicola, informed

of their approach, received them with all the kind offices of a friend,

and admitted them at once to the franchise, allotting to every one two

acres of land by the river Anio, but to Clausus twenty-five acres, and

gave him a place in the senate; a commencement of political power which

he used so wisely, that he rose to the highest reputation, was very

influential, and left the Claudian house behind him, inferior to none in

Rome.

The departure of these men rendered things quiet amongst the Sabines;

yet the chief of the community would not suffer them to settle into

peace, but resented that Clausus now, by turning deserter, should

disappoint that revenge upon the Romans, which, while at home, he had

unsuccessfully opposed.  Coming with a great army, they sat down before

Fidenae, and placed an ambuscade of two thousand men near Rome, in

wooded and hollow spots, with a design that some few horsemen, as soon

as it was day, should go out and ravage the country, commanding them

upon their approach to the town so to retreat as to draw the enemy into

the ambush.  Poplicola, however, soon advertised of these designs by

deserters, disposed his forces to their respective charges.  Postumius

Balbus, his son-in-law, going out with three thousand men in the

evening, was ordered to take the hills, under which the ambush lay,

there to observe their motions; his colleague, Lucretius, attended with

a body of the lightest and boldest men, was appointed to meet the Sabine

horse; whilst he, with the rest of the army, encompassed the enemy.  And

a thick mist rising accidentally, Postumius, early in the morning, with

shouts from the hills, assailed the ambuscade, Lucretius charged the

light-horse, and Poplicola besieged the camp; so that on all sides

defeat and ruin came upon the Sabines, and without any resistance the

Romans killed them in their flight, their very hopes leading them to

their death, for each division, presuming that the other was safe, gave

up all thought of fighting or keeping their ground; and these quitting

the camp to retire to the ambuscade, and the ambuscade flying; to the

camp, fugitives thus met fugitives, and found those from whom they

expected succor as much in need of succor from themselves.  The

nearness, however, of the city Fidenae was the preservation of the

Sabines, especially those that fled from the camp; those that could not

gain the city either perished in the field, or were taken prisoners.

This victory, the Romans, though usually ascribing such success to some

god, attributed to the conduct of one captain; and it was observed to be

heard amongst the soldiers, that Poplicola had delivered their enemies

lame and blind, and only not in chains, to be dispatched by their

swords.  From the spoil and prisoners great wealth accrued to the

people.

Poplicola, having completed his triumph, and bequeathed the city to the

care of the succeeding consuls, died; thus closing a life which, so far

as human life may be, had been full of all that is good and honorable.

The people, as though they had not duly rewarded his deserts when alive,

but still were in his debt, decreed him a public interment, every one

contributing his quadrans towards the charge; the women, besides, by

private consent, mourned a whole year, a signal mark of honor to his

memory.  He was buried, by the people's desire, within the city, in the

part called Velia, where his posterity had likewise privilege of burial;

now, however, none of the family are interred there, but the body is

carried thither and set down, and someone places a burning torch under

it, and immediately takes it away, as an attestation of the deceased's

privilege, and his receding from his honor; after which the body is

removed.

COMPARISON OF POPLICOLA WITH SOLON

There is something singular in the present parallel, which has not

occurred in any other of the lives; that the one should be the imitator

of the other, and the other his best evidence.  Upon the survey of

Solon's sentence to Croesus in favor of Tellus's happiness, it seems

more applicable to Poplicola; for Tellus, whose virtuous life and dying

well had gained him the name of the happiest man, yet was never

celebrated in Solon's poems for a good man, nor have his children or any

magistracy of his deserved a memorial; but Poplicola's life was the most

eminent amongst the Romans, as well for the greatness of his virtue as

his power, and also since his death many amongst the distinguished

families, even in our days, the Poplicolae, Messalae, and Valerii, after

a lapse of six hundred years, acknowledge him as the fountain of their

honor.  Besides, Tellus, though keeping his post and fighting like a

valiant soldier, was yet slain by his enemies; but Poplicola, the better

fortune, slew his, and saw his country victorious under his command.

And his honors and triumphs brought him, which was Solon's ambition, to

a happy end; the ejaculation which, in his verses against Mimnermus

about the continuance of man's life, he himself made,

Mourned let me die; and may I, when life ends,

Occasion sighs and sorrows to my friends,

is evidence to Poplicola's happiness; his death did not only draw tears

from his friends and acquaintance, but was the object of universal

regret and sorrow through the whole city; the women deplored his loss as

that of a son, brother, or common father.  "Wealth I would have," said

Solon, "but wealth by wrong procure would not," because punishment would

follow.  But Poplicola's riches were not only justly his, but he spent

them nobly in doing good to the distressed.  So that if Solon was

reputed the wisest man, we must allow Poplicola to be the happiest; for

what Solon wished for as the greatest and most perfect good, this

Poplicola had, and used and enjoyed to his death.

And as Solon may thus be said to have contributed to Poplicola's glory,

so did also Poplicola to his, by his choice of him as his model in the

formation of republican institutions; in reducing, for example, the

excessive powers and assumption of the consulship.  Several of his laws,

indeed, he actually transferred to Rome, as his empowering the people to

elect their officers, and allowing offenders the liberty of appealing to

the people, as Solon did to the jurors.  He did not, indeed, create a

new senate, as Solon did, but augmented the old to almost double its

number.  The appointment of treasurers again, the quaestors, has a like

origin; with the intent that the chief magistrate should not, if of good

character, be withdrawn from greater matters; or, if bad, have the

greater temptation to injustice, by holding both the government and

treasury in his hands.  The aversion to tyranny was stronger in

Poplicola; any one who attempted usurpation could, by Solon's law, only

be punished upon conviction; but Poplicola made it death before a trial.

And though Solon justly gloried, that, when arbitrary power was

absolutely offered to him by circumstances, and when his countrymen

would have willingly seen him accept it, he yet declined it; still

Poplicola merited no less, who, receiving a despotic command, converted

it to a popular office, and did not employ the whole legal power which

he held.  We must allow, indeed, that Solon was before Poplicola in

observing that

A people always minds its rulers best

When it is neither humored nor oppressed.

The remission of debts was peculiar to Solon; it was his great means for

confirming the citizens' liberty; for a mere law to give all men equal

rights is but useless, if the poor must sacrifice those rights to their

debts, and, in the very seats and sanctuaries of equality, the courts of

justice, the offices of state, and the public discussions, be more than

anywhere at the beck and bidding of the rich.  A yet more extraordinary

success was, that, although usually civil violence is caused by any

remission of debts, upon this one occasion this dangerous but powerful

remedy actually put an end to civil violence already existing, Solon's

own private worth and reputation overbalancing all the ordinary ill-

repute and discredit of the change.  The beginning of his government was

more glorious, for he was entirely original, and followed no man's

example, and, without the aid of any ally, achieved his most important

measures by his own conduct; yet the close of Poplicola's life was more

happy and desirable, for Solon saw the dissolution of his own

commonwealth, Poplicola's maintained the state in good order down to the

civil wars.  Solon, leaving his laws, as soon as he had made them,

engraven in wood, but destitute of a defender, departed from Athens;

whilst Poplicola, remaining, both in and out of office, labored to

establish the government Solon, though he actually knew of Pisistratus's

ambition, yet was not able to suppress it, but had to yield to

usurpation in its infancy; whereas Poplicola utterly subverted and

dissolved a potent monarchy, strongly settled by long continuance;

uniting thus to virtues equal to those, and purposes identical with

those of Solon, the good fortune and the power that alone could make

them effective.

In military exploits, Daimachus of Plataea will not even allow Solon the

conduct of the war against the Megarians, as was before intimated; but

Poplicola was victorious in the most important conflicts, both as a

private soldier and commander.  In domestic politics, also, Solon, in

play, as it were, and by counterfeiting madness, induced the enterprise

against Salamis; whereas Poplicola, in the very beginning, exposed

himself to the greatest risk, took arms against Tarquin, detected the

conspiracy, and, being principally concerned both in preventing the

escape of and afterwards punishing the traitors, not only expelled the

tyrants from the city, but extirpated their very hopes.  And as, in

cases calling for contest and resistance and manful opposition, he

behaved with courage and resolution, so, in instances where peaceable

language, persuasion, and concession were requisite, he was yet more to

be commended; and succeeded in gaining happily to reconciliation and

friendship, Porsenna, a terrible and invincible enemy.  Some may,

perhaps, object, that Solon recovered Salamis, which they had lost, for

the Athenians; whereas Poplicola receded from part of what the Romans

were at that time possessed of; but judgment is to be made of actions

according to the times in which they were performed.  The conduct of a

wise politician is ever suited to the present posture of affairs; often

by foregoing a part he saves the whole, and by yielding in a small

matter secures a greater; and so Poplicola, by restoring what the Romans

had lately usurped, saved their undoubted patrimony, and procured,

moreover, the stores of the enemy for those who were only too thankful

to secure their city.  Permitting the decision of the controversy to his

adversary, he not only got the victory, but likewise what he himself

would willingly have given to purchase the victory, Porsenna putting an

end to the war, and leaving them all the provision of his camp, from the

sense of the virtue and gallant disposition of the Romans which their

consul had impressed upon him.

THEMISTOCLES

The birth of Themistocles was somewhat too obscure to do him honor.  His

father, Neocles, was not of the distinguished people of Athens, but of

the township of Phrearrhi, and of the tribe Leontis; and by his mother's

side, as it is reported, he was base-born.

I am not of the noble Grecian race,

I'm poor Abrotonon, and born in Thrace;

Let the Greek women scorn me, if they please,

I was the mother of Themistocles.

Yet Phanias writes that the mother of Themistocles was not of Thrace,

but of Caria, and that her name was not Abrotonon, but Euterpe; and

Neanthes adds farther that she was of Halicarnassus in Caria.  And, as

illegitimate children, including those that were of the half-blood or

had but one parent an Athenian, had to attend at the Cynosarges (a

wrestling-place outside the gates, dedicated to Hercules, who was also

of half-blood amongst the gods, having had a mortal woman for his

mother), Themistocles persuaded several of the young men of high birth

to accompany him to anoint and exercise themselves together at

Cynosarges; an ingenious device for destroying the distinction between

the noble and the base-born, and between those of the whole and those of

the half blood of Athens.  However, it is certain that he was related to

the house of the Lycomedae; for Simonides records, that he rebuilt the

chapel of Phlya, belonging to that family, and beautified it with

pictures and other ornaments, after it had been burnt by the Persians.

It is confessed by all that from his youth he was of a vehement and

impetuous nature, of a quick apprehension, and a strong and aspiring

bent for action and great affairs.  The holidays and intervals in his

studies he did not spend in play or idleness, as other children, but

would be always inventing or arranging some oration or declamation to

himself, the subject of which was generally the excusing or accusing his

companions, so that his master would often say to him, "You, my boy,

will be nothing small, but great one way or other, for good or else for

bad."  He received reluctantly and carelessly instructions given him to

improve his manners and behavior, or to teach him any pleasing or

graceful accomplishment, but whatever was said to improve him in

sagacity, or in management of affairs, he would give attention to,

beyond one of his years, from confidence in his natural capacities for

such things.  And thus afterwards, when in company where people engaged

themselves in what are commonly thought the liberal and elegant

amusements, he was obliged to defend himself against the observations of

those who considered themselves highly accomplished, by the somewhat

arrogant retort, that he certainly could not make use of any stringed

instrument, could only, were a small and obscure city put into his

hands, make it great and glorious.  Notwithstanding this, Stesimbrotus

says that Themistocles was a hearer of Anaxagoras, and that he studied

natural philosophy under Melissus, contrary to chronology; for Melissus

commanded the Samians in their siege by Pericles, who was much

Themistocles's junior; and with Pericles, also, Anaxagoras was intimate.

They, therefore, might rather be credited, who report, that Themistocles

was an admirer of Mnesiphilus the Phrearrhian, who was neither

rhetorician nor natural philosopher, but a professor of that which was

then called wisdom, consisting in a sort of political shrewdness and

practical sagacity, which had begun and continued, almost like a sect of

philosophy, from Solon; but those who came afterwards, and mixed it with

pleadings and legal artifices, and transformed the practical part of it

into a mere art of speaking and an exercise of words, were generally

called sophists.  Themistocles resorted to Mnesiphilus when he had

already embarked in politics.

In the first essays of his youth he was not regular nor happily

balanced; he allowed himself to follow mere natural character, which,

without the control of reason and instruction, is apt to hurry, upon

either side, into sudden and violent courses, and very often to break

away and determine upon the worst; as he afterwards owned himself,

saying, that the wildest colts make the best horses, if they only get

properly trained and broken in.  But those who upon this fasten stories

of their own invention, as of his being disowned by his father, and that

his mother died for grief of her son's ill fame, certainly calumniate

him; and there are others who relate, on the contrary, how that to deter

him from public business, and to let him see how the vulgar behave

themselves towards their leaders when they have at last no farther use

of them, his father showed him the old galleys as they lay forsaken and

cast about upon the sea-shore.

Yet it is evident that his mind was early imbued with the keenest

interest in public affairs, and the most passionate ambition for

distinction.  Eager from the first to obtain the highest place, he

unhesitatingly accepted the hatred of the most powerful and influential

leaders in the city, but more especially of Aristides, the son of

Lysimachus, who always opposed him.  And yet all this great enmity

between them arose, it appears, from a very boyish occasion, both being

attached to the beautiful Stesilaus of Ceos, as Ariston the philosopher

tells us; ever after which, they took opposite sides, and were rivals in

politics.  Not but that the incompatibility of their lives and manners

may seem to have increased the difference, for Aristides was of a mild

nature, and of a nobler sort of character, and, in public matters,

acting always with a view, not to glory or popularity, but to the best

interests of the state consistently with safety and honesty, he was

often forced to oppose Themistocles, and interfere against the increase

of his influence, seeing him stirring up the people to all kinds of

enterprises, and introducing various innovations.  For it is said that

Themistocles was so transported with the thoughts of glory, and so

inflamed with the passion for great actions, that, though he was still

young when the battle of Marathon was fought against the Persians, upon

the skillful conduct of the general, Miltiades, being everywhere talked

about, he was observed to be thoughtful, and reserved, alone by him

self; he passed the nights without sleep, and avoided all his usual

places of recreation, and to those who wondered at the change, and

inquired the reason of it, he gave the answer, that "the trophy of

Miltiades would not let him sleep."  And when others were of opinion

that the battle of Marathon would be an end to the war, Themistocles

thought that it was but the beginning of far greater conflicts, and for

these, to the benefit of all Greece, he kept himself in continual

readiness, and his city also in proper training, foreseeing from far

before what would happen.

And, first of all, the Athenians being accustomed to divide amongst

themselves the revenue proceeding from the silver mines at Laurium, he

was the only man that dared propose to the people that this distribution

should cease, and that with the money ships should be built to make war

against the Aeginetans, who were the most flourishing people in all

Greece, and by the number of their ships held the sovereignty of the

sea; and Themistocles thus was more easily able to persuade them,

avoiding all mention of danger from Darius or the Persians, who were at

a great distance, and their coming very uncertain, and at that time not

much to be feared; but, by a seasonable employment of the emulation and

anger felt by the Athenians against the Aeginetans, he induced them to

preparation.  So that with this money a hundred ships were built, with

which they afterwards fought against Xerxes.  And, henceforward, little

by little, turning and drawing the city down towards the sea, in the

belief, that, whereas by land they were not a fit match for their next

neighbors, with their ships they might be able to repel the Persians and

command Greece, thus, as Plato says, from steady soldiers he turned them

into mariners and seamen tossed about the sea, and gave occasion for the

reproach against him, that he took away from the Athenians the spear and

the shield, and bound them to the bench and the oar.  These measures he

carried in the assembly, against the opposition, as Stesimbrotus

relates, of Miltiades; and whether or no he hereby injured the purity

and true balance of government, may be a question for philosophers, but

that the deliverance of Greece came at that time from the sea, and that

these galleys restored Athens again after it was destroyed, were others

wanting, Xerxes himself would be sufficient evidence, who, though his

land-forces were still entire, after his defeat at sea, fled away, and

thought himself no longer able to encounter the Greeks; and, as it seems

to me, left Mardonius behind him, not out of any hopes he could have to

bring them into subjection, but to hinder them from pursuing him.

Themistocles is said to have been eager in the acquisition of riches,

according to some, that he might be the more liberal; for loving to

sacrifice often, and to be splendid in his entertainment of strangers,

he required a plentiful revenue; yet he is accused by others of having

been parsimonious and sordid to that degree that he would sell

provisions which were sent to him as a present.  He desired Diphilides,

who was a breeder of horses, to give him a colt, and when he refused it,

threatened that in a short time he would turn his house into a wooden

horse, intimating that he would stir up dispute and litigation between

him and some of his relations.

He went beyond all men in the passion for distinction.  When he was

still young and unknown in the world, he entreated Epicles of Hermione,

who had a good hand at the lute and was much sought after by the

Athenians, to come and practice at home with him, being ambitious of

having people inquire after his house and frequent his company.  When he

came to the Olympic games, and was so splendid in his equipage and

entertainments, in his rich tents and furniture, that he strove to outdo

Cimon, he displeased the Greeks, who thought that such magnificence

might be allowed in one who was a young man and of a great family but

was a great piece of insolence in one as yet undistinguished, and

without title or means for making any such display.  In a dramatic

contest, the play he paid for won the prize, which was then a matter

that excited much emulation; he put up a tablet in record of it, with

the inscription, "Themistocles of Phrearrhi was at the charge of it;

Phrynichus made it; Adimantus was archon."  He was well liked by the

common people, would salute every particular citizen by his own name,

and always show himself a just judge in questions of business between

private men; he said to Simonides, the poet of Ceos, who desired

something of him, when he was commander of the army, that was not

reasonable, "Simonides, you would be no good poet if you wrote false

measure, nor should I be a good magistrate if for favor I made false

law."  And at another time, laughing at Simonides, he said, that he was

a man of little judgment to speak against the Corinthians, who were

inhabitants of a great city, and to have his own picture drawn so often,

having so ill-looking a face.

Gradually growing to be great, and winning the favor of the people, he

at last gained the day with his faction over that of Aristides, and

procured his banishment by ostracism.  When the king of Persia was now

advancing against Greece, and the Athenians were in consultation who

should be general, and many withdrew themselves of their own accord,

being terrified with the greatness of the danger, there was one

Epicydes, a popular speaker, son to Euphemides, a man of an eloquent

tongue, but of a faint heart, and a slave to riches, who was desirous of

the command, and was looked upon to be in a fair way to carry it by the

number of votes; but Themistocles, fearing that, if the command should

fall into such hands, all would be lost, bought off Epicydes and his

pretensions, it is said, for a sum of money.

When the king of Persia sent messengers into Greece, with an

interpreter, to demand earth and water, as an acknowledgment of

subjection, Themistocles, by the consent of the people, seized upon the

interpreter, and put him to death, for presuming to publish the

barbarian orders and decrees in the Greek language; this is one of the

actions he is commended for, as also for what he did to Arthmius of

Zelea, who brought gold from the king of Persia to corrupt the Greeks,

and was, by an order from Themistocles, degraded and disfranchised, he

and his children and his posterity; but that which most of all redounded

to his credit was, that he put an end to all the civil wars of Greece,

composed their differences, and persuaded them to lay aside all enmity

during the war with the Persians; and in this great work, Chileus the

Arcadian was, it is said, of great assistance to him.

Having taken upon himself the command of the Athenian forces, he

immediately endeavored to persuade the citizens to leave the city, and

to embark upon their galleys, and meet with the Persians at a great

distance from Greece; but many being against this, he led a large force,

together with the Lacedaemonians, into Tempe, that in this pass they

might maintain the safety of Thessaly, which had not as yet declared for

the king; but when they returned without performing anything; and it

was known that not only the Thessalians, but all as far as Boeotia, was

going over to Xerxes, then the Athenians more willingly hearkened to the

advice of Themistocles to fight by sea, and sent him with a fleet to

guard the straits of Artemisium.

When the contingents met here, the Greeks would have the Lacedaemonians

to command, and Eurybiades to be their admiral; but the Athenians, who

surpassed all the rest together in number of vessels, would not submit

to come after any other, till Themistocles, perceiving the danger of

this contest, yielded his own command to Eurybiades, and got the

Athenians to submit, extenuating the loss by persuading them, that if in

this war they behaved themselves like men, he would answer for it after

that, that the Greeks, of their own will, would submit to their command.

And by this moderation of his, it is evident that he was the chief means

of the deliverance of Greece, and gained the Athenians the glory of

alike surpassing their enemies in valor, and their confederates in

wisdom.

As soon as the Persian armada arrived at Aphetae, Eurybiades was

astonished to see such a vast number of vessels before him, and, being

informed that two hundred more were sailing round behind the island of

Sciathus, he immediately determined to retire farther into Greece, and

to sail back into some part of Peloponnesus, where their land army and

their fleet might join, for he looked upon the Persian forces to be

altogether unassailable by sea.  But the Euboeans, fearing that the

Greeks would forsake them, and leave them to the mercy of the enemy,

sent Pelagon to confer privately with Themistocles, taking with him a

good sum of money, which, as Herodotus reports, he accepted and gave to

Eurybiades.  In this affair none of his own countrymen opposed him so

much as Architeles, captain of the sacred galley, who, having no money

to supply his seamen, was eager to go home; but Themistocles so incensed

the Athenians against him, that they set upon him and left him not so

much as his supper, at which Architeles was much surprised, and took it

very ill; but Themistocles immediately sent him in a chest a service of

provisions, and at the bottom of it a talent of silver, desiring him to

sup tonight, and tomorrow provide for his seamen; if not, he would

report it amongst the Athenians that he had received money from the

enemy.  So Phanias the Lesbian tells the story.

Though the fights between the Greeks and Persians in the straits of

Euboea were not so important as to make any final decision of the war,

yet the experience which the Greeks obtained in them was of great

advantage, for thus, by actual trial and in real danger, they found out

that neither number of ships, nor riches and ornaments, nor boasting

shouts, nor barbarous songs of victory, were any way terrible to men

that knew how to fight, and were resolved to come hand to hand with

their enemies; these things they were to despise, and to come up close

and grapple with their foes.  This, Pindar appears to have seen, and

says justly enough of the fight at Artemisium, that

There the sons of Athens set

The stone that freedom stands on yet.

For the first step towards victory undoubtedly is to gain courage.

Artemisium is in Euboea, beyond the city of Histiaea, a sea-beach open

to the north; most nearly opposite to it stands Olizon, in the country

which formerly was under Philoctetes; there is a small temple there,

dedicated to Diana, surnamed of the Dawn, and trees about it, around

which again stand pillars of white marble; and if you rub them with your

hand, they send forth both the smell and color of saffron.  On one of

the pillars these verses are engraved,—

With numerous tribes from Asia's regions brought

The sons of Athens on these waters, fought;

Erecting, after they had quelled the Mede,

To Artemis this record of the deed.

There is a place still to be seen upon this shore, where, in the middle

of a great heap of sand, they take out from the bottom a dark powder

like ashes, or something that has passed the fire; and here, it is

supposed, the shipwrecks and bodies of the dead were burnt.

But when news came from Thermopylae to Artemisium, informing them that

king Leonidas was slain, and that Xerxes had made himself master of all

the passages by land, they returned back to the interior of Greece, the

Athenians having the command of the rear, the place of honor and danger,

and much elated by what had been done.

As Themistocles sailed along the coast, he took notice of the harbors

and fit places for the enemies' ships to come to land at, and engraved

large letters in such stones as he found there by chance, as also in

others which he set up on purpose near to the landing-places, or where

they were to water; in which inscriptions he called upon the Ionians to

forsake the Medes, if it were possible, and come over to the Greeks, who

were their proper founders and fathers, and were now hazarding all for

their liberties; but, if this could not be done, at any rate to impede

and disturb the Persians in all engagements.  He hoped that these

writings would prevail with the Ionians to revolt, or raise some trouble

by making their fidelity doubtful to the Persians.

Now, though Xerxes had already passed through Doris and invaded the

country of Phocis, and was burning and destroying the cities of the

Phocians, yet the Greeks sent them no relief; and, though the Athenians

earnestly desired them to meet the Persians in Boeotia, before they

could come into Attica, as they themselves had come forward by sea at

Artemisium, they gave no ear to their request, being wholly intent upon

Peloponnesus, and resolved to gather all their forces together within

the Isthmus, and to build a wall from sea to sea in that narrow neck of

land; so that the Athenians were enraged to see themselves betrayed, and

at the same time afflicted and dejected at their own destitution.  For

to fight alone against such a numerous army was to no purpose, and the

only expedient now left them was to leave their city and cling to their

ships; which the people were very unwilling to submit to, imagining that

it would signify little now to gain a victory, and not understanding how

there could be deliverance any longer after they had once forsaken the

temples of their gods and exposed the tombs and monuments of their

ancestors to the fury of their enemies.

Themistocles, being at a loss, and not able to draw the people over to

his opinion by any human reason, set his machines to work, as in a

theater, and employed prodigies and oracles.  The serpent of Minerva,

kept in the inner part of her temple, disappeared; the priests gave it

out to the people that the offerings which were set for it were found

untouched, and declared, by the suggestion of Themistocles, that the

goddess had left the city, and taken her flight before them towards the

sea.  And he often urged them with the oracle which bade them trust to

walls of wood, showing them that walls of wood could signify nothing

else but ships; and that the island of Salamis was termed in it, not

miserable or unhappy, but had the epithet of divine, for that it should

one day be associated with a great good fortune of the Greeks.  At

length his opinion prevailed, and he obtained a decree that the city

should be committed to the protection of Minerva, "queen of Athens;"

that they who were of age to bear arms should embark, and that each

should see to sending away his children, women, and slaves where he

could.  This decree being confirmed, most of the Athenians removed their

parents, wives, and children to Troezen, where they were received with

eager good-will by the Troezenians, who passed a vote that they should

be maintained at the public charge, by a daily payment of two obols to

every one, and leave be given to the children to gather fruit where they

pleased, and schoolmasters paid to instruct them.  This vote was

proposed by Nicagoras.

There was no public treasure at that time in Athens; but the council of

Areopagus, as Aristotle says, distributed to every one that served,

eight drachmas, which was a great help to the manning of the fleet; but

Clidemus ascribes this also to the art of Themistocles.  When the

Athenians were on their way down to the haven of Piraeus, the shield

with the head of Medusa was missing; and he, under the pretext of

searching for it, ransacked all places, and found among their goods

considerable sums of money concealed, which he applied to the public

use; and with this the soldiers and seamen were well provided for their

voyage.

When the whole city of Athens were going on board, it afforded a

spectacle worthy of pity alike and admiration, to see them thus send

away their fathers and children before them, and, unmoved with their

cries and tears, pass over into the island.  But that which stirred

compassion most of all was, that many old men, by reason of their

great age, were left behind; and even the tame domestic animals could

not be seen without some pity, running about the town and howling, as

desirous to be carried along with their masters that had kept them;

among which it is reported that Xanthippus, the father of Pericles, had

a dog that would not endure to stay behind, but leaped into the sea, and

swam along by the galley's side till he came to the island of Salamis,

where he fainted away and died, and that spot in the island, which is

still called the Dog's Grave, is said to be his.

Among the great actions of Themistocles at this crisis, the recall of

Aristides was not the least, for, before the war, he had been ostracized

by the party which Themistocles headed, and was in banishment; but now,

perceiving that the people regretted his absence, and were fearful that

he might go over to the Persians to revenge himself, and thereby ruin

the affairs of Greece, Themistocles proposed a decree that those who

were banished for a time might return again, to give assistance by word

and deed to the cause of Greece with the rest of their fellow-citizens.

Eurybiades, by reason of the greatness of Sparta, was admiral of the

Greek fleet, but yet was faint-hearted in time of danger, and willing to

weigh anchor and set sail for the isthmus of Corinth, near which the

land army lay encamped; which Themistocles resisted; and this was the

occasion of the well-known words, when Eurybiades, to check his

impatience, told him that at the Olympic games they that start up before

the rest are lashed; "And they," replied Themistocles, "that are left

behind are not crowned."  Again, Eurybiades lifting up his staff as if

he were going to strike, Themistocles said, "Strike if you will, but

hear;" Eurybiades, wondering much at his moderation, desired him to

speak, and Themistocles now brought him to a better understanding.  And

when one who stood by him told him that it did not become those who had

neither city nor house to lose, to persuade others to relinquish their

habitations and forsake their countries, Themistocles gave this reply:

"We have indeed left our houses and our walls, base fellow, not thinking

it fit to become slaves for the sake of things that have no life nor

soul; and yet our city is the greatest of all Greece, consisting of two

hundred galleys, which are here to defend you, if you please; but if you

run away and betray us, as you did once before, the Greeks shall soon

hear news of the Athenians possessing as fair a country, and as large

and free a city, as that they have lost."  These expressions of

Themistocles made Eurybiades suspect that if he retreated the Athenians

would fall off from him.  When one of Eretria began to oppose him, he

said, "Have you anything to say of war, that are like an ink-fish? you

have a sword, but no heart."  Some say that while Themistocles was

thus speaking things upon the deck, an owl was seen flying to the right

hand of the fleet, which came and sat upon the top of the mast; and

this happy omen so far disposed the Greeks to follow his advice, that

they presently prepared to fight.  Yet, when the enemy's fleet was

arrived at the haven of Phalerum, upon the coast of Attica, and with the

number of their ships concealed all the shore, and when they saw the

king himself in person come down with his land army to the seaside, with

all his forces united, then the good counsel of Themistocles was soon

forgotten, and the Peloponnesians cast their eyes again towards the

isthmus, and took it very ill if any one spoke against their returning

home; and, resolving to depart that night, the pilots had order what

course to steer.

The Teuthis, loligo, or cuttlefish, is said to have a bone or

cartilage shaped like a sword, and was conceived to have no heart.

Themistocles, in great distress that the Greeks should retire, and lose

the advantage of the narrow seas and strait passage, and slip home every

one to his own city, considered with himself, and contrived that

stratagem that was carried out by Sicinnus.  This Sicinnus was a Persian

captive, but a great lover of Themistocles, and the attendant of his

children.  Upon this occasion, he sent him privately to Xerxes,

commanding him to tell the king, that Themistocles, the admiral of the

Athenians, having espoused his interest, wished to be the first to

inform him that the Greeks were ready to make their escape, and that he

counseled him to hinder their flight, to set upon them while they were

in this confusion and at a distance from their land army, and hereby

destroy all their forces by sea.  Xerxes was very joyful at this

message, and received it as from one who wished him all that was good,

and immediately issued instructions to the commanders of his ships, that

they should instantly Yet out with two hundred galleys to encompass all

the islands, and enclose all the straits and passages, that none of the

Greeks might escape, and that they should afterwards follow with the

rest of their fleet at leisure.  This being done, Aristides, the son of

Lysimachus, was the first man that perceived it, and went to the tent of

Themistocles, not out of any friendship, for he had been formerly

banished by his means, as has been related, but to inform him how they

were encompassed by their enemies.  Themistocles, knowing the generosity

of Aristides, and much struck by his visit at that time, imparted to him

all that he had transacted by Sicinnus, and entreated him, that, as he

would be more readily believed among the Greeks, he would make use of

his credit to help to induce them to stay and fight their enemies in the

narrow seas.  Aristides applauded Themistocles, and went to the other

commanders and captains of the galleys, and encouraged them to engage;

yet they did not perfectly assent to him, till a galley of Tenos, which

deserted from the Persians, of which Panaetius was commander, came in,

while they were still doubting, and confirmed the news that all the

straits and passages were beset; and then their rage and fury, as well

as their necessity; provoked them all to fight.

As soon as it was day, Xerxes placed himself high up, to view his fleet,

and how it was set in order.  Phanodemus says, he sat upon a promontory

above the temple of Hercules, where the coast of Attica is separated

from the island by a narrow channel; but Acestodorus writes, that it was

in the confines of Megara, upon those hills which are called the Horns,

where he sat in a chair of gold, with many secretaries about him to

write down all that was done in the fight.

When Themistocles was about to sacrifice, close to the admiral's galley,

there were three prisoners brought to him, fine looking men, and richly

dressed in ornamented clothing and gold, said to be the children of

Artayctes and Sandauce, sister to Xerxes.  As soon as the prophet

Euphrantides saw them, and observed that at the same time the fire

blazed out from the offerings with a more than ordinary flame, and that

a man sneezed on the right, which was an intimation of a fortunate

event, he took Themistocles by the hand, and bade him consecrate the

three young men for sacrifice, and offer them up with prayers for

victory to Bacchus the Devourer: so should the Greeks not only save

themselves, but also obtain victory.  Themistocles was much disturbed at

this strange and terrible prophecy, but the common people, who, in any

difficult crisis and great exigency, ever look for relief rather to

strange and extravagant than to reasonable means, calling upon Bacchus

with one voice, led the captives to the altar, and compelled the

execution of the sacrifice as the prophet had commanded.  This is

reported by Phanias the Lesbian, a philosopher well read in history.

The number of the enemy's ships the poet Aeschylus gives in his tragedy

called the Persians, as on his certain knowledge, in the following

words—

Xerxes, I know, did into battle lead

One thousand ships; of more than usual speed

Seven and two hundred.  So is it agreed.

The Athenians had a hundred and eighty; in every ship eighteen men

fought upon the deck, four of whom were archers and the rest men-at-

arms.

As Themistocles had fixed upon the most advantageous place, so, with no

less sagacity, he chose the best time of fighting; for he would not run

the prows of his galleys against the Persians, nor begin the fight till

the time of day was come, when there regularly blows in a fresh breeze

from the open sea, and brings in with it a strong swell into the

channel; which was no inconvenience to the Greek ships, which were low-

built, and little above the water, but did much hurt to the Persians,

which had high sterns and lofty decks, and were heavy and cumbrous in

their movements, as it presented them broadside to the quick charges of

the Greeks, who kept their eyes upon the motions of Themistocles, as

their best example, and more particularly because, opposed to his ship,

Ariamenes, admiral to Xerxes, a brave man, and by far the best and

worthiest of the king's brothers, was seen throwing darts and shooting

arrows from his huge galley, as from the walls of a castle.  Aminias the

Decelean and Sosicles the Pedian, who sailed in the same vessel, upon

the ships meeting stem to stem, and transfixing each the other with

their brazen prows, so that they were fastened together, when Ariamenes

attempted to board theirs, ran at him with their pikes, and thrust him

into the sea; his body, as it floated amongst other shipwrecks, was

known to Artemisia, and carried to Xerxes.

It is reported, that, in the middle of the fight, a great flame rose

into the air above the city of Eleusis, and that sounds and voices were

heard through all the Thriasian plain, as far as the sea, sounding like

a number of men accompanying and escorting the mystic Iacchus, and that

a mist seemed to form and rise from the place from whence the sounds

came, and, passing forward, fell upon the galleys.  Others believed that

they saw apparitions, in the shape of armed men, reaching out their

hands from the island of Aegina before the Grecian galleys; and supposed

they were the Aeacidae, whom they had invoked to their aid before the

battle.  The first man that took a ship was Lycomedes the Athenian,

captain of a galley, who cut down its ensign, and dedicated it to Apollo

the Laurel-crowned.  And as the Persians fought in a narrow arm of the

sea, and could bring but part of their fleet to fight, and fell foul of

one another, the Greeks thus equaled them in strength, and fought with

them till the evening, forced them back, and obtained, as says

Simonides, that noble and famous victory, than which neither amongst the

Greeks nor barbarians was ever known more glorious exploit on the seas;

by the joint valor, indeed, and zeal of all who fought, but by the

wisdom and sagacity of Themistocles.

After this sea-fight, Xerxes, enraged at his ill-fortune, attempted, by

casting great heaps of earth and stones into the sea, to stop up the

channel and to make a dam, upon which he might lead his land-forces over

into the island of Salamis.

Themistocles, being desirous to try the opinion of Aristides, told him

that he proposed to set sail for the Hellespont, to break the bridge of

ships, so as to shut up, he said, Asia a prisoner within Europe; but

Aristides, disliking the design, said, "We have hitherto fought with an

enemy who has regarded little else but his pleasure and luxury; but if

we shut him up within Greece, and drive him to necessity, he that is

master of such great forces will no longer sit quietly with an umbrella

of gold over his head, looking upon the fight for his pleasure; but in

such a strait will attempt all things; he will be resolute, and appear

himself in person upon all occasions, he will soon correct his errors,

and supply what he has formerly omitted through remissness, and will be

better advised in all things.  Therefore, it is noways our interest,

Themistocles," he said, "to take away the bridge that is already made,

but rather to build another, if it were possible, that he might make his

retreat with the more expedition."  To which Themistocles answered, "If

this be requisite, we must immediately use all diligence, art, and

industry, to rid ourselves of him as soon as may be;" and to this

purpose he found out among the captives one of the king Of Persia's

eunuchs, named Arnaces, whom he sent to the king, to inform him that the

Greeks, being now victorious by sea, had decreed to sail to the

Hellespont, where the boats were fastened together, and destroy the

bridge; but that Themistocles, being concerned for the king, revealed

this to him, that he might hasten towards the Asiatic seas, and pass

over into his own dominions; and in the mean time would cause delays,

and hinder the confederates from pursuing him.  Xerxes no sooner heard

this, but, being very much terrified, he proceeded to retreat out of

Greece with all speed.  The prudence of Themistocles and Aristides in

this was afterwards more fully understood at the battle of Plataea,

where Mardonius, with a very small fraction of the forces of Xerxes, put

the Greeks in danger of losing all.

Herodotus writes, that, of all the cities of Greece, Aegina was held to

have performed the best service in the war; while all single men yielded

to Themistocles, though, out of envy, unwillingly; and when they

returned to the entrance of Peloponnesus, where the several commanders

delivered their suffrages at the altar, to determine who was most

worthy, every one gave the first vote for himself and the second for

Themistocles.  The Lacedaemonians carried him with them to Sparta,

where, giving the rewards of valor to Eurybiades, and of wisdom and

conduct to Themistocles, they crowned him with olive, presented him with

the best chariot in the city, and sent three hundred young men to

accompany him to the confines of their country.  And at the next Olympic

games, when Themistocles entered the course, the spectators took no

farther notice of those who were contesting the prizes, but spent the

whole day in looking upon him, showing him to the strangers, admiring

him, and applauding him by clapping their hands, and other expressions

of joy, so that he himself, much gratified, confessed to his friends

that he then reaped the fruit of all his labors for the Greeks.

He was, indeed, by nature, a great lover of honor, as is evident from

the anecdotes recorded of him.  When chosen admiral by the Athenians, he

would not quite conclude any single matter of business, either public or

private, but deferred all till the day they were to set sail, that, by

dispatching a great quantity of business all at once, and having to meet

a great variety of people, he might make an appearance of greatness and

power.  Viewing the dead bodies cast up by the sea, he perceived

bracelets and necklaces of gold about them, yet passed on, only showing

them to a friend that followed him, saying, "Take you these things, for

you are not Themistocles."  He said to Antiphates, a handsome young man,

who had formerly avoided, but now in his glory courted him, "Time, young

man, has taught us both a lesson."  He said that the Athenians did not

honor him or admire him, but made, as it were, a sort of plane-tree of

him; sheltered themselves under him in bad weather, and, as soon as it

was fine, plucked his leaves and cut his branches.  When the Seriphian

told him that he had not obtained this honor by himself, but by the

greatness of his city, he replied, "You speak truth; I should never have

been famous if I had been of Seriphus; nor you, had you been of Athens."

When another of the generals, who thought he had performed considerable

service for the Athenians, boastingly compared his actions with those of

Themistocles, he told him that once upon a time the Day after the

Festival found fault with the Festival: "On you there is nothing but

hurry and trouble and preparation, but, when I come, everybody sits down

quietly and enjoys himself;" which the Festival admitted was true, but

"if I had not come first, you would not have come at all."  "Even so,"

he said, "if Themistocles had not come before, where had you been now?"

Laughing at his own son, who got his mother, and, by his mother's means,

his father also, to indulge him, he told him that he had the most power

of any one in Greece:  "For the Athenians command the rest of Greece, I

command the Athenians, your mother commands me, and you command your

mother."  Loving to be singular in all things, when he had land to sell,

he ordered the crier to give notice that there were good neighbors near

it.  Of two who made love to his daughter, he preferred the man of worth

to the one who was rich, saying he desired a man without riches, rather

than riches without a man.  Such was the character of his sayings.

After these things, he began to rebuild and fortify the city of Athens,

bribing, as Theopompus reports, the Lacedaemonian ephors not to be

against it, but, as most relate it, overreaching and deceiving them.

For, under pretest of an embassy, he went to Sparta, where, upon the

Lacedaemonians charging him with rebuilding the walls, and Poliarchus

coming on purpose from Aegina to denounce it, he denied the fact,

bidding them to send people to Athens to see whether it were so or no;

by which delay he got time for the building of the wall, and also placed

these ambassadors in the hands of his countrymen as hostages for him;

and so, when the Lacedaemonians knew the truth, they did him no hurt,

but, suppressing all display of their anger for the present, sent him

away.

Next he proceeded to establish the harbor of Piraeus, observing the

great natural advantages of the locality and desirous to unite the whole

city with the sea, and to reverse, in a manner, the policy of ancient

Athenian kings, who, endeavoring to withdraw their subjects from the

sea, and to accustom them to live, not by sailing about, but by planting

and tilling the earth, spread the story of the dispute between Minerva

and Neptune for the sovereignty of Athens, in which Minerva, by

producing to the judges an olive tree, was declared to have won; whereas

Themistocles did not only knead up, as Aristophanes says, the port and

the city into one, but made the city absolutely the dependent and the

adjunct of the port, and the land of the sea, which increased the power

and confidence of the people against the nobility; the authority coming

into the hands of sailors and boatswains and pilots.  Thus it was one of

the orders of the thirty tyrants, that the hustings in the assembly,

which had faced towards the sea, should be turned round towards the

land; implying their opinion that the empire by sea had been the origin

of the democracy, and that the farming population were not so much

opposed to oligarchy.

Themistocles, however, formed yet higher designs with a view to naval

supremacy.  For, after the departure of Xerxes, when the Grecian fleet

was arrived at Pagasae, where they wintered, Themistocles, in a public

oration to the people of Athens, told them that he had a design to

perform something that would tend greatly to their interests and safety,

but was of such a nature, that it could not be made generally public.

The Athenians ordered him to impart it to Aristides only; and, if he

approved of it, to put it in practice.  And when Themistocles had

discovered to him that his design was to burn the Grecian fleet in the

haven of Pagasae, Aristides, coming out to the people, gave this report

of the stratagem contrived by Themistocles, that no proposal could be

more politic, or more dishonorable; on which the Athenians commanded

Themistocles to think no farther of it.

When the Lacedaemonians proposed, at the general council of the

Amphictyonians, that the representatives of those cities which were not

in the league, nor had fought against the Persians, should be excluded,

Themistocles, fearing that the Thessalians, with those of Thebes,

Argos, and others, being thrown out of the council, the Lacedaemonians

would become wholly masters of the votes, and do what they pleased,

supported the deputies of the cities, and prevailed with the members

then sitting to alter their opinion in this point, showing them that

there were but one and thirty cities which had partaken in the war, and

that most of these, also, were very small; how intolerable would it be,

if the rest of Greece should be excluded, and the general council should

come to be ruled by two or three great cities.  By this, chiefly, he

incurred the displeasure of the Lacedaemonians, whose honors and favors

were now shown to Cimon, with a view to making him the opponent of the

state policy of Themistocles.

He was also burdensome to the confederates, sailing about the islands

and collecting money from them.  Herodotus says, that, requiring money

of those of the island of Andros, he told them that he had brought with

him two goddesses, Persuasion and Force; and they answered him that they

had also two great goddesses, which prohibited them from giving him any

money, Poverty and Impossibility.  Timocreon, the Rhodian poet,

reprehends him somewhat bitterly for being wrought upon by money to let

some who were banished return, while abandoning himself, who was his

guest and friend.  The verses are these:—

Pausanias you may praise, and Xanthippus he be for,

For Leutychidas, a third; Aristides, I proclaim,

From the sacred Athens came,

The one true man of all; for Themistocles Latona doth abhor

The liar, traitor, cheat, who, to gain his filthy pay,

Timocreon, his friend, neglected to restore

To his native Rhodian shore;

Three silver talents took, and departed (curses with him) on his way,

Restoring people here, expelling there, and killing here,

Filling evermore his purse: and at the Isthmus gave a treat,

To be laughed at, of cold meat,

Which they ate, and prayed the gods some one else might give the feast

another year.

But after the sentence and banishment of Themistocles, Timocreon reviles

him yet more immoderately and wildly in a poem which begins thus:—

Unto all the Greeks repair

O Muse, and tell these verses there,

As is fitting and is fair.

The story is, that it was put to the question whether Timocreon should

be banished for siding with the Persians, and Themistocles gave his vote

against him.  So when Themistocles was accused of intriguing with the

Medes, Timocreon made these lines upon him:—

So now Timocreon, indeed, is not the sole friend of the Mede,

There are some knaves besides; nor is it only mine that fails,

But other foxes have lost tails. —

When the citizens of Athens began to listen willingly to those who

traduced and reproached him, he was forced, with somewhat obnoxious

frequency, to put them in mind of the great services he had performed,

and ask those who were offended with him whether they were weary with

receiving benefits often from the same person, so rendering himself more

odious.  And he yet more provoked the people by building a temple to

Diana with the epithet of Aristobule, or Diana of Best Counsel;

intimating thereby, that he had given the best counsel, not only to the

Athenians, but to all Greece.  He built this temple near his own house,

in the district called Melite, where now the public officers carry out

the bodies of such as are executed, and throw the halters and clothes of

those that are strangled or otherwise put to death.  There is to this

day a small figure of Themistocles in the temple of Diana of Best

Counsel, which represents him to be a person, not only of a noble mind,

but also of a most heroic aspect.  At length the Athenians banished him,

making use of the ostracism to humble his eminence and authority, as

they ordinarily did with all whom they thought too powerful, or, by

their greatness, disproportionable to the equality thought requisite in

a popular government.  For the ostracism was instituted, not so much to

punish the offender, as to mitigate and pacify the violence of the

envious, who delighted to humble eminent men, and who, by fixing this

disgrace upon them, might vent some part of their rancor.

Themistocles being banished from Athens, while he stayed at Argos the

detection of Pausanias happened, which gave such advantage to his

enemies, that Leobotes of Agraule, son of Alcmaeon, indicted him of

treason, the Spartans supporting him in the accusation.

When Pausanias went about this treasonable design, he concealed it at

first from Themistocles, though he were his intimate friend; but when he

saw him expelled out of the commonwealth, and how impatiently he took

his banishment, he ventured to communicate it to him, and desired his

assistance, showing him the king of Persia's letters, and exasperating

him against the Greeks, as a villainous, ungrateful people.  However,

Themistocles immediately rejected the proposals of Pausanias, and wholly

refused to be a party in the enterprise, though he never revealed his

communications, nor disclosed the conspiracy to any man, either hoping

that Pausanias would desist from his intentions, or expecting that so

inconsiderate an attempt after such chimerical objects would be

discovered by other means.

After that Pausanias was put to death, letters and writings being found

concerning this matter, which rendered Themistocles suspected, the

Lacedaemonians were clamorous against him, and his enemies among the

Athenians accused him; when, being absent from Athens, he made his

defense by letters, especially against the points that had been

previously alleged against him.  In answer to the malicious detractions

of his enemies, he merely wrote to the citizens, urging that he who was

always ambitious to govern, and not of a character or a disposition to

serve, would never sell himself and his country into slavery to a

barbarous and hostile nation.

Notwithstanding this, the people, being persuaded by his accusers, sent

officers to take him and bring him away to be tried before a council of

the Greeks, but, having timely notice of it, he passed over into the

island of Corcyra, where the state was under obligations to him; for

being chosen as arbitrator in a difference between them and the

Corinthians, he decided the controversy by ordering the Corinthians to

pay down twenty talents, and declaring the town and island of Leucas a

joint colony from both cities.  From thence he fled into Epirus, and,

the Athenians and Lacedaemonians still pursuing him, he threw himself

upon chances of safety that seemed all but desperate.  For he fled for

refuge to Admetus, king of the Molossians, who had formerly made some

request to the Athenians, when Themistocles was in the height of his

authority, and had been disdainfully used and insulted by him, and had

let it appear plain enough, that could he lay hold of him, he would take

his revenge.  Yet in this misfortune, Themistocles, fearing the recent

hatred of his neighbors and fellow-citizens more than the old

displeasure of the king, put himself at his mercy, and became a humble

suppliant to Admetus, after a peculiar manner, different from the custom

of other countries.  For taking the king's son, who was then a child, in

his arms, he laid himself down at his hearth, this being the most sacred

and only manner of supplication, among the Molossians, which was not to

be refused.  And some say that his wife, Phthia, intimated to

Themistocles this way of petitioning, and placed her young son with him

before the hearth; others, that king Admetus, that he might be under a

religious obligation not to deliver him up to his pursuers, prepared and

enacted with him a sort of stage-play to this effect.  At this time,

Epicrates of Acharnae privately conveyed his wife and children out of

Athens, and sent them hither, for which afterwards Cimon condemned him

and put him to death, as Stesimbrotus reports, and yet somehow, either

forgetting this himself, or making Themistocles to be little mindful of

it, says presently that he sailed into Sicily, and desired in marriage

the daughter of Hiero, tyrant of Syracuse, promising to bring the Greeks

under his power; and, on Hiero refusing him, departed thence into Asia;

but this is not probable.

For Theophrastus writes, in his work on Monarchy, that when Hiero sent

race-horses to the Olympian games, and erected a pavilion sumptuously

furnished, Themistocles made an oration to the Greeks, inciting them to

pull down the tyrant's tent, and not to suffer his horses to run.

Thucydides says, that, passing over land to the Aegaean Sea, he took

ship at Pydna in the bay of Therme, not being known to any one in the

ship, till, being terrified to see the vessel driven by the winds near

to Naxos, which was then besieged by the Athenians, he made himself

known to the master and pilot, and, partly entreating them, partly

threatening that if they went on shore he would accuse them, and make

the Athenians to believe that they did not take him in out of ignorance,

but that he had corrupted them with money from the beginning, he

compelled them to bear off and stand out to sea, and sail forward

towards the coast of Asia.

A great part of his estate was privately conveyed away by his friends,

and sent after him by sea into Asia; besides which there was discovered

and confiscated to the value of fourscore talents, as Theophrastus

writes, Theopompus says a hundred; though Themistocles was never worth

three talents before he was concerned in public affairs.

When he arrived at Cyme, and understood that all along the coast there

were many laid wait for him, and particularly Ergoteles and Pythodorus

(for the game was worth the hunting for such as were thankful to make

money by any means, the king of Persia having offered by public

proclamation two hundred talents to him that should take him), he fled

to Aegae, a small city of the Aeolians, where no one knew him but only

his host Nicogenes, who was the richest man in Aeolia, and well known to

the great men of Inner Asia.  While Themistocles lay hid for some days

in his house, one night, after a sacrifice and supper ensuing, Olbius,

the attendant upon Nicogenes's children, fell into a sort of frenzy and

fit of inspiration, and cried out in verse,—

Night shall speak, and night instruct thee,

By the voice of night conduct thee.

After this, Themistocles, going to bed, dreamed that he saw a snake coil

itself up upon his belly, and so creep to his neck; then, as soon as it

touched his face, it turned into an eagle, which spread its wings over

him, and took him up and flew away with him a great distance; then there

appeared a herald's golden wand, and upon this at last it set him down

securely, after infinite terror and disturbance.

His departure was effected by Nicogenes by the following artifice; the

barbarous nations, and amongst them the Persians especially, are

extremely jealous, severe, and suspicious about their women, not only

their wives, but also their bought slaves and concubines, whom they keep

so strictly that no one ever sees them abroad; they spend their lives

shut up within doors, and, when they take a journey, are carried in

close tents, curtained in on all sides, and set upon a wagon.  Such a

traveling carriage being prepared for Themistocles, they hid him in it,

and carried him on his journeys and told those whom they met or spoke

with upon the road that they were conveying a young Greek woman out of

Ionia to a nobleman at court.

Thucydides and Charon of Lampsacus say that Xerxes was dead, and that

Themistocles had an interview with his son; but Ephorus, Dinon,

Clitarchus, Heraclides, and many others, write that he came to Xerxes.

The chronological tables better agree with the account of Thucydides,

and yet neither can their statements be said to be quite set at rest.

When Themistocles was come to the critical point, he applied himself

first to Artabanus, commander of a thousand men, telling him that he was

a Greek, and desired to speak with the king about important affairs

concerning which the king was extremely solicitous.  Artabanus answered

him, "O stranger, the laws of men are different, and one thing is

honorable to one man, and to others another; but it is honorable for all

to honor and observe their own laws.  It is the habit of the Greeks, we

are told, to honor, above all things, liberty and equality; but amongst

our many excellent laws, we account this the most excellent, to honor

the king, and to worship him, as the image of the great preserver of the

universe; if, then, you shall consent to our laws, and fall down before

the king and worship him, you may both see him and speak to him; but if

your mind be otherwise, you must make use of others to intercede for

you, for it is not the national custom here for the king to give

audience to anyone that doth not fall down before him."

Themistocles, hearing this, replied, "Artabanus, I that come hither to

increase the power and glory of the king, will not only submit myself to

his laws, since so it hath pleased the god who exalteth the Persian

empire to this greatness, but will also cause many more to be

worshippers and adorers of the king.  Let not this, therefore, be an

impediment why I should not communicate to the king what I have to

impart."  Artabanus asking him, "Who must we tell him that you are? for

your words signify you to be no ordinary person," Themistocles answered,

"No man, O Artabanus, must be informed of this before the king himself."

Thus Phanias relates; to which Eratosthenes, in his treatise on Riches,

adds, that it was by the means of a woman of Eretria, who was kept by

Artabanus, that he obtained this audience and interview with him.

When he was introduced to the king, and had paid his reverence to him,

he stood silent, till the king commanding the interpreter to ask him who

he was, he replied, "O king, I am Themistocles the Athenian, driven

into banishment by the Greeks.  The evils that I have done to the

Persians are numerous; but my benefits to them yet greater, in

withholding the Greeks from pursuit, so soon as the deliverance of my

own country allowed me to show kindness also to you.  I come with a mind

suited to my present calamities; prepared alike for favors and for

anger; to welcome your gracious reconciliation, and to deprecate your

wrath.  Take my own countrymen for witnesses of the services I have done

for Persia, and make use of this occasion to show the world your virtue,

rather than to satisfy your indignation.  If you save me, you will save

your suppliant; if otherwise, will destroy an enemy of the Greeks."  He

talked also of divine admonitions, such as the vision which he saw at

Nicogenes's house, and the direction given him by the oracle of Dodona,

where Jupiter commanded him to go to him that had a name like his, by

which he understood that he was sent from Jupiter to him, seeing that

they both were great, and had the name of kings.

The king heard him attentively, and, though he admired his temper and

courage, gave him no answer at that time; but, when he was with his

intimate friends, rejoiced in his great good fortune, and esteemed

himself very happy in this, and prayed to his god Arimanius, that all

his enemies might be ever of the same mind with the Greeks, to abuse and

expel the bravest men amongst them.  Then he sacrificed to the gods, and

presently fell to drinking, and was so well pleased, that in the night,

in the middle of his sleep, he cried out for joy three times, "I have

Themistocles the Athenian."

In the morning, calling together the chief of his court, he had

Themistocles brought before him, who expected no good of it, when he

saw, for example, the guards fiercely set against him as soon as they

learnt his name, and giving him ill language.  As he came forward

towards the king, who was seated, the rest keeping silence, passing by

Roxanes, a commander of a thousand men, he heard him, with a slight

groan, say, without stirring out of his place, "You subtle Greek

serpent, the king's good genius hath brought thee hither."  Yet, when he

came into the presence, and again fell down, the king saluted him, and

spoke to him kindly, telling him he was now indebted to him two hundred

talents; for it was just and reasonable that he should receive the

reward which was proposed to whosoever should bring Themistocles; and

promising much more, and encouraging him, he commanded him to speak

freely what he would concerning the affairs of Greece.  Themistocles

replied, that a man's discourse was like to a rich Persian carpet, the

beautiful figures and patterns of which can only be shown by spreading

and extending it out; when it is contracted and folded up, they are

obscured and lost; and, therefore, he desired time.  The king being

pleased with the comparison, and bidding him take what time he would, he

desired a year; in which time, having, learnt the Persian language

sufficiently, he spoke with the king by himself without the help of an

interpreter, it being supposed that he discoursed only about the affairs

of Greece; but there happening, at the same time, great alterations at

court, and removals of the king's favorites, he drew upon himself the

envy of the great people, who imagined that he had taken the boldness to

speak concerning them.  For the favors shown to other strangers were

nothing in comparison with the honors conferred on him; the king invited

him to partake of his own pastimes and recreations both at home and

abroad, carrying him with him a-hunting, and made him his intimate so

far that he permitted him to see the queen-mother, and converse

frequently with her.  By the king's command, he also was made acquainted

with the Magian learning.

When Demaratus the Lacedaemonian, being ordered by the king to ask

whatsoever he pleased, and it should immediately be granted him, desired

that he might make his public entrance, and be carried in state through

the city of Sardis, with the tiara set in the royal manner upon his

head, Mithropaustes, cousin to the king, touched him on the head, and

told him that he had no brains for the royal tiara to cover, and if

Jupiter should give him his lightning and thunder, he would not any the

more be Jupiter for that; the king also repulsed him with anger

resolving never to be reconciled to him, but to be inexorable to all

supplications on his behalf.  Yet Themistocles pacified him, and

prevailed with him to forgive him.  And it is reported, that the

succeeding kings, in whose reigns there was a greater communication

between the Greeks and Persians, when they invited any considerable

Greek into their service, to encourage him, would write, and promise him

that he should be as great with them as Themistocles had been.  They

relate, also, how Themistocles, when he was in great prosperity, and

courted by many, seeing himself splendidly served at his table turned

to his children and said, "Children, we had been undone if we had not

been undone."  Most writers say that he had three cities given him,

Magnesia, Myus, and Lampsacus, to maintain him in bread, meat, and wine.

Neanthes of Cyzicus, and Phanias, add two more, the city of

Palaescepsis, to provide him with clothes, and Percote, with bedding and

furniture for his house.

As he was going down towards the sea-coast to take measures against

Greece, a Persian whose name was Epixyes, governor of the upper Phrygia,

laid wait to kill him, having for that purpose provided a long time

before a number of Pisidians, who were to set upon him when he should

stop to rest at a city that is called Lion's-head.  But Themistocles,

sleeping in the middle of the day, saw the Mother of the gods appear to

him in a dream and say unto him, "Themistocles, keep back from the

Lion's-head, for fear you fall into the lion's jaws; for this advice I

expect that your daughter Mnesiptolema should be my servant."

Themistocles was much astonished, and, when he had made his vows to the

goddess, left the broad road, and, making a circuit, went another way,

changing his intended station to avoid that place, and at night took up

his rest in the fields.  But one of the sumpter-horses, which carried

the furniture for his tent, having fallen that day into the river, his

servants spread out the tapestry, which was wet, and hung it up to dry;

in the mean time the Pisidians made towards them with their swords

drawn, and, not discerning exactly by the moon what it was that was

stretched out thought it to be the tent of Themistocles, and that they

should find him resting himself within it; but when they came near, and

lifted up the hangings, those who watched there fell upon them and took

them.  Themistocles, having escaped this great danger, in admiration of

the goodness of the goddess that appeared to him, built, in memory of

it, a temple in the city of Magnesia, which he dedicated to Dindymene,

Mother of the gods, in which he consecrated and devoted his daughter

Mnesiptolema to her service.

When he came to Sardis, he visited the temples of the gods, and

observing, at his leisure, their buildings, ornaments, and the number of

their offerings, he saw in the temple of the Mother of the gods, the

statue of a virgin in brass, two cubits high, called the water-bringer.

Themistocles had caused this to be made and set up when he was surveyor

of waters at Athens, out of the fines of those whom he detected in

drawing off and diverting the public water by pipes for their private

use; and whether he had some regret to see this image in captivity, or

was desirous to let the Athenians see in what great credit and authority

he was with the king, he entered into a treaty with the governor of

Lydia to persuade him to send this statue back to Athens, which so

enraged the Persian officer, that he told him he would write the king

word of it.  Themistocles, being affrighted hereat, got access to his

wives and concubines, by presents of money to whom, he appeased the fury

of the governor; and afterwards behaved with more reserve and

circumspection, fearing the envy of the Persians, and did not, as

Theopompus writes, continue to travel about Asia, but lived quietly in

his own house in Magnesia, where for a long time he passed his days in

great security, being courted by all, and enjoying rich presents, and

honored equally with the greatest persons in the Persian empire; the

king, at that time, not minding his concerns with Greece, being taken up

with the affairs of Inner Asia.

But when Egypt revolted, being assisted by the Athenians, and the Greek

galleys roved about as far as Cyprus and Cilicia, and Cimon had made

himself master of the seas, the king turned his thoughts thither, and,

bending his mind chiefly to resist the Greeks, and to check the growth

of their power against him, began to raise forces, and send out

commanders, and to dispatch messengers to Themistocles at Magnesia, to

put him in mind of his promise, and to summon him to act against the

Greeks.  Yet this did not increase his hatred nor exasperate him against

the Athenians, neither was he any way elevated with the thoughts of the

honor and powerful command he was to have in this war; but judging,

perhaps, that the object would not be attained, the Greeks having at

that time, beside other great commanders, Cimon, in particular, who was

gaining wonderful military successes; but chiefly, being ashamed to

sully the glory of his former great actions, and of his many victories

and trophies, he determined to put a conclusion to his life, agreeable

to its previous course.  He sacrificed to the gods, and invited his

friends; and, having entertained them and shaken hands with them, drank

bull's blood, as is the usual story; as others state, a poison producing

instant death; and ended his days in the city of Magnesia, having lived

sixty-five years, most of which he had spent in politics and in the

wars, in government and command.  The king, being informed of the cause

and manner of his death, admired him more than ever, and continued to

show kindness to his friends and relations.

Themistocles left three sons by Archippe, daughter to Lysander of

Alopece, — Archeptolis, Polyeuctus, and Cleophantus.  Plato the

philosopher mentions the last as a most excellent horseman, but

otherwise insignificant person; of two sons yet older than these,

Neocles and Diocles, Neocles died when he was young by the bite of a

horse, and Diocles was adopted by his grandfather, Lysander.  He had

many daughters, of whom Mnesiptolema, whom he had by a second marriage,

was wife to Archeptolis, her brother by another mother; Italia was

married to Panthoides, of the island of Chios; Sybaris to Nicomedes the

Athenian.  After the death of Themistocles, his nephew, Phrasicles, went

to Magnesia, and married, with her brothers' consent, another daughter,

Nicomache, and took charge of her sister Asia, the youngest of all the

children.

The Magnesians possess a splendid sepulchre of Themistocles, placed in

the middle of their market-place.  It is not worthwhile taking notice

of what Andocides states in his Address to his Friends concerning his

remains, how the Athenians robbed his tomb, and threw his ashes into the

air; for he feigns this, to exasperate the oligarchical faction against

the people; and there is no man living but knows that Phylarchus simply

invents in his history, where he all but uses an actual stage machine,

and brings in Neocles and Demopolis as the sons of Themistocles, to

incite or move compassion, as if he were writing a tragedy.  Diodorus

the cosmographer says, in his work on Tombs, but by conjecture rather

than of certain knowledge, that near to the haven of Piraeus, where the

land runs out like an elbow from the promontory of Alcimus, when you

have doubled the cape and passed inward where the sea is always calm,

there is a large piece of masonry, and upon this the tomb of

Themistocles, in the shape of an altar; and Plato the comedian confirms

this, he believes, in these verses,—

Thy tomb is fairly placed upon the strand,

Where merchants still shall greet it with the land;

Still in and out 'twill see them come and go,

And watch the galleys as they race below.

Various honors also and privileges were granted to the kindred of

Themistocles at Magnesia, which were observed down to our times, and

were enjoyed by another Themistocles of Athens, with whom I had an

intimate acquaintance and friendship in the house of Ammonius the

philosopher.

CAMILLUS

Among the many remarkable things that are related of Furius Camillus, it

seems singular and strange above all, that he, who continually was in

the highest commands, and obtained the greatest successes, was five

times chosen dictator, triumphed four times, and was styled a second

founder of Rome, yet never was so much as once consul.  The reason of

which was the state and temper of the commonwealth at that time; for the

people, being at dissension with the senate, refused to return consuls,

but in their stead elected other magistrates, called military tribunes,

who acted, indeed, with full consular power, but were thought to

exercise a less obnoxious amount of authority, because it was divided

among a larger number; for to have the management of affairs entrusted

in the hands of six persons rather than two was some satisfaction to the

opponents of oligarchy.  This was the condition of the times when

Camillus was in the height of his actions and glory, and, although the

government in the meantime had often proceeded to consular elections,

yet he could never persuade himself to be consul against the inclination

of the people.  In all his other administrations, which were many and

various, he so behaved himself, that, when alone in authority, he

exercised his power as in common, but the honor of all actions redounded

entirely to himself, even when in joint commission with others; the

reason of the former was his moderation in command; of the latter, his

great judgment and wisdom, which gave him without controversy the first

place.

The house of the Furii was not, at that time of any considerable

distinction; he, by his own acts, first raised himself to honor, serving

under Postumius Tubertus, dictator, in the great battle against the

Aequians and Volscians.  For riding out from the rest of the army, and

in the charge receiving a wound in his thigh, he for all that did not

quit the fight, but, letting the dart drag in the wound, and engaging

with the bravest of the enemy, put them to flight; for which action,

among other rewards bestowed on him, he was created censor, an office in

those days of great repute and authority.  During his censorship one

very good act of his is recorded, that, whereas the wars had made many

widows, he obliged such as had no wives, some by fair persuasion, others

by threatening to set fines on their heads, to take them in marriage;

another necessary one, in causing orphans to be rated, who before were

exempted from taxes, the frequent wars requiring more than ordinary

expenses to maintain them.  What, however, pressed them most was the

siege of Veii.  Some call this people Veientani.  This was the head city

of Tuscany, not inferior to Rome, either in number of arms or multitude

of soldiers, insomuch that, presuming on her wealth and luxury, and

priding herself upon her refinement and sumptuousness, she engaged in

many honorable contests with the Romans for glory and empire.  But now

they had abandoned their former ambitious hopes, having been weakened by

great defeats, so that, having fortified themselves with high and strong

walls, and furnished the city with all sorts of weapons offensive and

defensive, as likewise with corn and all manner of provisions, they

cheerfully endured a siege, which, though tedious to them, was no less

troublesome and distressing to the besiegers.  For the Romans, having

never been accustomed to stay away from home, except in summer, and for

no great length of time, and constantly to winter at home, were then

first compelled by the tribunes to build forts in the enemy's country,

and, raising strong works about their camp, to join winter and summer

together.  And now, the seventh year of the war drawing to an end, the

commanders began to be suspected as too slow and remiss in driving on

the siege, insomuch that they were discharged and others chosen for the

war, among whom was Camillus, then second time tribune.  But at present

he had no hand in the siege, the duties that fell by lot to him being to

make war upon the Faliscans and Capenates, who, taking advantage of the

Romans being occupied on all hands, had carried ravages into their

country, and, through all the Tuscan war, given them much annoyance, but

were now reduced by Camillus, and with great loss shut up within their

walls.

And now, in the very heat of the war, a strange phenomenon in the Alban

lake, which, in the absence of any known cause and explanation by

natural reasons, seemed as great a prodigy as the most incredible that

are reported, occasioned great alarm.  It was the beginning of autumn,

and the summer now ending had, to all observation, been neither rainy

nor much troubled with southern winds; and of the many lakes, brooks,

and springs of all sorts with which Italy abounds, some were wholly

dried up, others drew very little water with them; all the rivers, as is

usual in summer, ran in a very low and hollow channel.  But the Alban

lake, that is fed by no other waters but its own, and is on all sides

encircled with fruitful mountains, without any cause, unless it were

divine, began visibly to rise and swell, increasing to the feet of the

mountains, and by degrees reaching the level of the very tops of them,

and all this without any waves or agitation.  At first it was the wonder

of shepherds and herdsmen; but when the earth, which, like a great dam,

held up the lake from falling into the lower grounds, through the

quantity and weight of water was broken down, and in a violent stream it

ran through the plowed fields and plantations to discharge itself in the

sea, it not only struck terror into the Romans, but was thought by all

the inhabitants of Italy to portend some extraordinary event.  But the

greatest talk of it was in the camp that besieged Veii, so that in the

town itself, also, the occurrence became known.

As in long sieges it commonly happens that parties on both sides meet

often and converse with one another, so it chanced that a Roman had

gained much confidence and familiarity with one of the besieged, a man

versed in ancient prophecies, and of repute for more than ordinary skill

in divination.  The Roman, observing him to be overjoyed at the story of

the lake, and to mock at the siege, told him that this was not the only

prodigy that of late had happened to the Romans; others more wonderful

yet than this had befallen them, which he was willing to communicate to

him, that he might the better provide for his private interests in these

public distempers.  The man greedily embraced the proposal, expecting to

hear some wonderful secrets; but when, by little and little, he had led

him on in conversation, and insensibly drawn him a good way from the

gates of the city, he snatched him up by the middle, being stronger than

he, and, by the assistance of others that came running from the camp,

seized and delivered him to the commanders.  The man, reduced to this

necessity, and sensible now that destiny was not to be avoided,

discovered to them the secret oracles of Veii; that it was not possible

the city should be taken, until the Alban lake, which now broke forth

and had found out new passages, was drawn back from that course, and so

diverted that it could not mingle with the sea.  The senate, having

heard and satisfied themselves about the matter, decreed to send to

Delphi, to ask counsel of the god.  The messengers were persons of the

highest repute, Licinius Cossus, Valerius Potitus, and Fabius Ambustus;

who, having made their voyage by sea and consulted the god, returned

with other answers, particularly that there had been a neglect of some

of their national rites relating to the Latin feasts; but the Alban

water the oracle commanded, if it were possible, they should keep from

the sea, and shut it up in its ancient bounds; but if that was not to be

done, then they should carry it off by ditches and trenches into the

lower grounds, and so dry it up; which message being delivered, the

priests performed what related to the sacrifices, and the people went to

work and turned the water.

And now the senate, in the tenth year of the war, taking away all other

commands, created Camillus dictator, who chose Cornelius Scipio for his

general of horse.  And in the first place he made vows unto the gods,

that, if they would grant a happy conclusion of the war, he would

celebrate to their honor the great games, and dedicate a temple to the

goddess whom the Romans call Matuta the Mother, though, from the

ceremonies which are used, one would think she was Leucothea.  For they

take a servant-maid into the secret part of the temple, and there cuff

her, and drive her out again, and they embrace their brothers' children

in place of their own; and, in general, the ceremonies of the sacrifice

remind one of the nursing of Bacchus by Ino, and the calamities

occasioned by her husband's concubine. Camillus, having made these

vows, marched into the country of the Faliscans, and in a great battle

overthrew them and the Capenates, their confederates; afterwards he

turned to the siege of Veii, and, finding that to take it by assault

would prove a difficult and hazardous attempt, proceeded to cut mines

under ground, the earth about the city being easy to break up, and

allowing such depth for the works as would prevent their being

discovered by the enemy.  This design going on in a hopeful way, he

openly gave assaults to the enemy, to keep them to the walls, whilst

they that worked underground in the mines were, without being perceived,

arrived within the citadel, close to the temple of Juno, which was the

greatest and most honored in all the city.  It is said that the prince

of the Tuscans was at that very time at sacrifice, and that the priest,

after he had looked into the entrails of the beast, cried out with a

loud voice that the gods would give the victory to those that should

complete those offerings; and that the Romans who were in the mines,

hearing the words, immediately pulled down the floor, and, ascending

with noise and clashing of weapons, frightened away the enemy, and,

snatching up the entrails, carried them to Camillus.  But this may look

like a fable.  The city, however, being taken by storm, and the soldiers

busied in pillaging and gathering an infinite quantity of riches and

spoil, Camillus, from the high tower, viewing what was done, at first

wept for pity; and when they that were by congratulated his good

success, he lifted up his hands to heaven, and broke out into this

prayer:  "O most mighty Jupiter, and ye gods that are judges of good and

evil actions, ye know that not without just cause, but constrained by

necessity, we have been forced to revenge ourselves on the city of our

unrighteous and wicked enemies.  But if, in the vicissitude of things,

there be any calamity due, to counterbalance this great felicity, I beg

that it may be diverted from the city and army of the Romans, and fall,

with as little hurt as may be, upon my own head."  Having said these

words, and just turning about (as the custom of the Romans is to turn to

the right after adoration or prayer), he stumbled and fell, to the

astonishment of all that were present.  But, recovering himself

presently from the fall, he told them that he had received what he had

prayed for, a small mischance, in compensation for the greatest good

fortune.

Having sacked the city, he resolved, according as he had vowed, to carry

Juno's image to Rome; and, the workmen being ready for that purpose, he

sacrificed to the goddess, and made his supplications that she would be

pleased to accept of their devotion toward her, and graciously vouchsafe

to accept of a place among the gods that presided at Rome; and the

statue, they say, answered in a low voice that she was ready and willing

to go.  Livy writes, that, in praying, Camillus touched the goddess, and

invited her, and that some of the standers-by cried out that she was

willing and would come.  They who stand up for the miracle and endeavor

to maintain it have one great advocate on their side in the wonderful

fortune of the city, which, from a small and contemptible beginning,

could never have attained to that greatness and power without many

signal manifestations of the divine presence and cooperation.  Other

wonders of the like nature, drops of sweat seen to stand on statues,

groans heard from them, the figures seen to turn round and to close

their eyes, are recorded by many ancient historians; and we ourselves

could relate divers wonderful things, which we have been told by men of

our own time, that are not lightly to be rejected; but to give too easy

credit to such things, or wholly to disbelieve them, is equally

dangerous, so incapable is human infirmity of keeping any bounds, or

exercising command over itself, running off sometimes to superstition

and dotage, at other times to the contempt and neglect of all that is

supernatural.  But moderation is best, and to avoid all extremes.

Camillus, however, whether puffed up with the greatness of his

achievement in conquering a city that was the rival of Rome, and had

held out a ten years' siege, or exalted with the felicitations of those

that were about him, assumed to himself more than became a civil and

legal magistrate; among other things, in the pride and haughtiness of

his triumph, driving through Rome in a chariot drawn with four white

horses, which no general either before or since ever did; for the Romans

consider such a mode of conveyance to be sacred, and specially set apart

to the king and father of the gods.  This alienated the hearts of his

fellow-citizens, who were not accustomed to such pomp and display.

The second pique they had against him was his opposing the law by which

the city was to be divided; for the tribunes of the people brought

forward a motion that the people and senate should be divided into two

parts, one of which should remain at home, the other, as the lot should

decide, remove to the new-taken city.  By which means they should not

only have much more room, but by the advantage of two great and

magnificent cities, be better able to maintain their territories and

their fortunes in general.  The people, therefore, who were numerous and

indigent, greedily embraced it, and crowded continually to the forum,

with tumultuous demands to have it put to the vote.  But the senate and

the noblest citizens, judging the proceedings of the tribunes to tend

rather to a destruction than a division of Rome, greatly averse to it,

went to Camillus for assistance, who, fearing the result if it came to a

direct contest, contrived to occupy the people with other business, and

so staved it off.  He thus became unpopular.  But the greatest and most

apparent cause of their dislike against him arose from the tenths of the

spoil; the multitude having here, if not a just, yet a plausible case

against him.  For it seems, as he went to the siege of Veii, he had

vowed to Apollo that if he took the city he would dedicate to him the

tenth of the spoil.  The city being taken and sacked, whether he was

loath to trouble the soldiers at that time, or that through the

multitude of business he had forgotten his vow, he suffered them to

enjoy that part of the spoils also.  Some time afterwards, when his

authority was laid down, he brought the matter before the senate, and

the priests, at the same time, reported, out of the sacrifices, that

there were intimations of divine anger, requiring propitiations and

offerings.  The senate decreed the obligation to be in force.

But seeing it was difficult for every one to produce the very same

things they had taken, to be divided anew, they ordained that every one

upon oath should bring into the public the tenth part of his gains.

This occasioned many annoyances and hardships to the soldiers, who were

poor men, and had endured much in the war, and now were forced, out of

what they had gained and spent, to bring in so great a proportion.

Camillus, being assaulted by their clamor and tumults, for want of a

better excuse, betook himself to the poorest of defenses, confessing he

had forgotten his vow; they in turn complained that he had vowed the

tenth of the enemy's goods, and now levied it out of the tenths of the

citizens.  Nevertheless, every one having brought in his due proportion,

it was decreed that out of it a bowl of massy gold should be made, and

sent to Delphi.  And when there was great scarcity of gold in the city,

and the magistrates were considering where to get it, the Roman ladies,

meeting together and consulting among themselves, out of the golden

ornaments they wore contributed as much as went to the making the

offering, which in weight came to eight talents of gold.  The senate, to

give them the honor they had deserved, ordained that funeral orations

should be used at the obsequies of women as well as men, it having never

before been a custom that any woman after death should receive any

public eulogy.  Choosing out, therefore, three of the noblest citizens

as a deputation, they sent them in a vessel of war, well manned and

sumptuously adorned.  Storm and calm at sea may both, they say, alike be

dangerous; as they at this time experienced, being brought almost to the

very brink of destruction, and, beyond all expectation, escaping.  For

near the isles of Solus the wind slacking, galleys of the Lipareans came

upon them, taking them for pirates; and, when they held up their hands

as suppliants, forbore indeed from violence, but took their ship in tow,

and carried her into the harbor, where they exposed to sale their goods

and persons as lawful prize, they being pirates; and scarcely, at last,

by the virtue and interest of one man, Timesitheus by name, who was in

office as general, and used his utmost persuasion, they were, with much

ado, dismissed.  He, however, himself sent out some of his own vessels

with them, to accompany them in their voyage and assist them at the

dedication; for which he received honors at Rome, as he had deserved.

And now the tribunes of the people again resuming their motion for the

division of the city, the war against the Faliscans luckily broke out,

giving liberty to the chief citizens to choose what magistrates they

pleased, and to appoint Camillus military tribune, with five colleagues;

affairs then requiring a commander of authority and reputation, as well

as experience.  And when the people had ratified the election, he

marched with his forces into the territories of the Faliscans, and laid

seige to Falerii, a well-fortified city, and plentifully stored with all

necessaries of war.  And although he perceived it would be no small work

to take it, and no little time would be required for it, yet he was

willing to exercise the citizens and keep them abroad, that they might

have no leisure, idling at home, to follow the tribunes in factions and

seditions; a very common remedy, indeed, with the Romans, who thus

carried off, like good physicians, the ill humors of their commonwealth.

The Falerians, trusting in the strength of their city, which was well

fortified on all sides, made so little account of the siege, that all,

with the exception of those that guarded the walls, as in times of

peace, walked about the streets in their common dress; the boys went to

school, and were led by their master to play and exercise about the town

walls; for the Falerians, like the Greeks, used to have a single teacher

for many pupils, wishing their children to live and be brought up from

the beginning in each other's company.

This schoolmaster, designing to betray the Falerians by their children,

led them out every day under the town wall, at first but a little way,

and, when they had exercised, brought them home again.  Afterwards by

degrees he drew them farther and farther, till by practice he had made

them bold and fearless, as if no danger was about them; and at last,

having got them all together, he brought them to the outposts of the

Romans, and delivered them up, demanding to be led to Camillus.  Where

being come, and standing in the middle, he said that he was the master

and teacher of these children, but, preferring his favor before all

other obligations, he was come to deliver up his charge to him, and, in

that, the whole city.  When Camillus had heard him out, he was astounded

at the treachery of the act, and, turning to the standers-by, observed,

that "war, indeed, is of necessity attended with much injustice and

violence!  Certain laws, however, all good men observe even in war

itself; nor is victory so great an object as to induce us to incur for

its sake obligations for base and impious acts.  A great general should

rely on his own virtue, and not on other men's vices."  Which said, he

commanded the officers to tear off the man's clothes, and bind his hands

behind him, and give the boys rods and scourges, to punish the traitor

and drive him back to the city.  By this time the Falerians had

discovered the treachery of the schoolmaster, and the city, as was

likely, was full of lamentations and cries for their calamity, men and

women of worth running in distraction about the walls and gates; when,

behold, the boys came whipping their master on, naked and bound, calling

Camillus their preserver and god and father.  Insomuch that it struck

not only into the parents, but the rest of the citizens that saw what

was done, such admiration and love of Camillus's justice, that,

immediately meeting in assembly, they sent ambassadors to him, to resign

whatever they had to his disposal.  Camillus sent them to Rome, where,

being brought into the senate, they spoke to this purpose: that the

Romans, preferring justice before victory, had taught them rather to

embrace submission than liberty; they did not so much confess themselves

to be inferior in strength, as they must acknowledge them to be superior

in virtue.  The senate remitted the whole matter to Camillus, to judge

and order as he thought fit; who, taking a sum of money of the

Falerians, and, making a peace with the whole nation of the Faliscans,

returned home.

But the soldiers, who had expected to have the pillage of the city, when

they came to Rome empty-handed, railed against Camillus among their

fellow-citizens, as a hater of the people, and one that grudged all

advantage to the poor.  Afterwards, when the tribunes of the people

again brought their motion for dividing the city to the vote, Camillus

appeared openly against it, shrinking from no unpopularity, and

inveighing boldly against the promoters of it, and so urging and

constraining the multitude, that, contrary to their inclinations, they

rejected the proposal; but yet hated Camillus.  Insomuch that, though a

great misfortune befell him in his family (one of his two sons dying of

a disease), commiseration for this could not in the least make them

abate of their malice.  And, indeed, he took this loss with immoderate

sorrow, being a man naturally of a mild and tender disposition, and,

when the accusation was preferred against him, kept his house, and

mourned amongst the women of his family.

His accuser was Lucius Apuleius; the charge, appropriation of the Tuscan

spoils; certain brass gates, part of those spoils, were said to be in

his possession.  The people were exasperated against him, and it was

plain they would take hold of any occasion to condemn him.  Gathering,

therefore, together his friends and fellow-soldiers, and such as had

borne command with him, a considerable number in all, he besought them

that they would not suffer him to be unjustly overborne by shameful

accusations, and left the mock and scorn of his enemies.  His friends,

having advised and consulted among themselves, made answer, that, as to

the sentence, they did not see how they could help him, but that they

would contribute to whatsoever fine should be set upon him.  Not able to

endure so great an indignity, he resolved in his anger to leave the city

and go into exile; and so, having taken leave of his wife and his son,

he went silently to the gate of the city, and, there stopping and

turning round, stretched out his hands to the Capitol, and prayed to the

gods, that if, without any fault of his own, but merely through the

malice and violence of the people, he was driven out into banishment,

the Romans might quickly repent of it; and that all mankind might

witness their need for the assistance, and desire for the return of

Camillus.

Thus, like Achilles, having left his imprecations on the citizens, he

went into banishment; so that, neither appearing nor making defense, he

was condemned in the sum of fifteen thousand asses, which, reduced to

silver, makes one thousand five hundred drachmas; for the as was the

money of the time, ten of such copper pieces making the denarius, or

piece of ten.  And there is not a Roman but believes that immediately

upon the prayers of Camillus a sudden judgment followed, and that he

received a revenge for the injustice done unto him; which though we

cannot think was pleasant, but rather grievous and bitter to him, yet

was very remarkable, and noised over the whole world; such a punishment

visited the city of Rome, an era of such loss and danger and disgrace so

quickly succeeded; whether it thus fell out by fortune, or it be the

office of some god not to see injured virtue go unavenged.

The first token that seemed to threaten some mischief to ensue was the

death of the censor Julius; for the Romans have a religious reverence

for the office of a censor, and esteem it sacred.  The second was that,

just before Camillus went into exile, Marcus Caedicius, a person of no

great distinction, nor of the rank of senator, but esteemed a good and

respectable man, reported to the military tribunes a thing worthy their

consideration:  that, going along the night before in the street called

the New Way, and being called by somebody in a loud voice, he turned

about, but could see no one, but heard a voice greater than human, which

said these words, "Go, Marcus Caedicius, and early in the morning tell

the military tribunes that they are shortly to expect the Gauls."  But

the tribunes made a mock and sport with the story, and a little after

came Camillus's banishment.

The Gauls are of the Celtic race, and are reported to have been

compelled by their numbers to leave their country, which was

insufficient to sustain them all, and to have gone in search of other

homes.  And being, many thousands of them, young men and able to bear

arms, and carrying with them a still greater number of women and young

children, some of them, passing the Riphaean mountains, fell upon the

Northern Ocean, and possessed themselves of the farthest parts of

Europe; others, seating themselves between the Pyrenean mountains and

the Alps, lived there a considerable time, near to the Senones and

Celtorii; but, afterwards tasting wine which was then first brought them

out of Italy, they were all so much taken with the liquor, and

transported with the hitherto unknown delight, that, snatching up their

arms and taking their families along with them, they marched directly to

the Alps, to find out the country which yielded such fruit, pronouncing

all others barren and useless.  He that first brought wine among them

and was the chief instigator of their coming into Italy is said to have

been one Aruns, a Tuscan, a man of noble extraction, and not of bad

natural character, but involved in the following misfortune.  He was

guardian to an orphan, one of the richest of the country, and much

admired for his beauty, whose name was Lucumo.  From his childhood he

had been bred up with Aruns in his family and when now grown up did not

leave his house, professing to wish for the enjoyment of his society.

And thus for a great while he secretly enjoyed Aruns's wife, corrupting

her, and himself corrupted by her.  But when they were both so far gone

in their passion that they could neither refrain their lust nor conceal

it, the young man seized the woman and openly sought to carry her away.

The husband, going to law, and finding himself overpowered by the

interest and money of his opponent, left his country, and, hearing of

the state of the Gauls, went to them and was the conductor of their

expedition into Italy.

At their first coming they at once possessed themselves of all that

country which anciently the Tuscans inhabited, reaching from the Alps to

both the seas, as the names themselves testify; for the North or

Adriatic Sea is named from the Tuscan city Adria, and that to the south

the Tuscan Sea simply.  The whole country is rich in fruit trees, has

excellent pasture, and is well watered with rivers.  It had eighteen

large and beautiful cities, well provided with all the means for

industry and wealth, and all the enjoyments and pleasures of life.  The

Gauls cast out the Tuscans, and seated themselves in them.  But this was

long before.

The Gauls at this time were besieging Clusium, a Tuscan city.  The

Clusinians sent to the Romans for succor desiring them to interpose with

the barbarians by letters and ambassadors.  There were sent three of the

family of the Fabii, persons of high rank and distinction in the city.

The Gauls received them courteously, from respect to the name of Rome,

and, giving over the assault which was then making upon the walls, came

to conference with them; when the ambassadors asking what injury they

had received of the Clusinians that they thus invaded their city,

Brennus, king of the Gauls, laughed and made answer, "The Clusinians do

us injury, in that, being able only to till a small parcel of ground,

they must needs possess a great territory, and will not yield any part

to us who are strangers, many in number, and poor.  In the same nature,

O Romans, formerly the Albans, Fidenates, and Ardeates, and now lately

the Veientines and Capenates, and many of the Faliscans and Volscians,

did you injury; upon whom ye make war if they do not yield you part of

what they possess, make slaves of them, waste and spoil their country,

and ruin their cities; neither in so doing are cruel or unjust, but

follow that most ancient of all laws, which gives the possessions of the

feeble to the strong; which begins with God and ends in the beasts;

since all these, by nature, seek, the stronger to have advantage over

the weaker.  Cease, therefore, to pity the Clusinians whom we besiege,

lest ye teach the Gauls to be kind and compassionate to those that are

oppressed by you."  By this answer the Romans, perceiving that Brennus

was not to be treated with, went into Clusium, and encouraged and

stirred up the inhabitants to make a sally with them upon the

barbarians, which they did either to try their strength or to show their

own.  The sally being made, and the fight growing hot about the walls,

one of the Fabii, Quintus Ambustus, being well mounted, and setting

spurs to his horse, made full against a Gaul, a man of huge bulk and

stature, whom he saw riding out at a distance from the rest.  At the

first he was not recognized, through the quickness of the conflict and

the glittering of his armor, that precluded any view of him; but when he

had overthrown the Gaul, and was going to gather the spoils, Brennus

knew him; and, invoking the gods to be witnesses, that, contrary to the

known and common law of nations, which is holily observed by all

mankind, he who had come as an ambassador had now engaged in hostility

against him, he drew off his men, and, bidding Clusium farewell, led his

army directly to Rome.  But not wishing that it should look as if they

took advantage of that injury, and were ready to embrace any occasion of

quarrel, he sent a herald to demand the man in punishment, and in the

meantime marched leisurely on.

The senate being met at Rome, among many others that spoke against the

Fabii, the priests called fecials were the most decided, who, on the

religious ground, urged the senate that they should lay the whole guilt

and penalty of the fact upon him that committed it, and so exonerate the

rest.  These fecials Numa Pompilius, the mildest and justest of kings,

constituted guardians of peace, and the judges and determiners of all

causes by which war may justifiably be made.  The senate referring the

whole matter to the people, and the priests there, as well as in the

senate, pleading against Fabius, the multitude, however, so little

regarded their authority, that in scorn and contempt of it they chose

Fabius and the rest of his brothers military tribunes.  The Gauls, on

hearing this, in great rage threw aside every delay, and hastened on

with all the speed they could make.  The places through which they

marched, terrified with their numbers and the splendor of their

preparations for war, and in alarm at their violence and fierceness,

began to give up their territories as already lost, with little doubt

but their cities would quickly follow; contrary, however, to

expectation, they did no injury as they passed, nor took anything from

the fields; and, as they went by any city, cried out that they were

going to Rome; that the Romans only were their enemies, and that they

took all others for their friends.

Whilst the barbarians were thus hastening with all speed, the military

tribunes brought the Romans into the field to be ready to engage them,

being not inferior to the Gauls in number (for they were no less than

forty thousand foot), but most of them raw soldiers, and such as had

never handled a weapon before.  Besides, they had wholly neglected all

religious usages, had not obtained favorable sacrifices, nor made

inquiries of the prophets, natural in danger and before battle.  No less

did the multitude of commanders distract and confound their proceedings;

frequently before, upon less occasions, they had chosen a single leader,

with the title of dictator, being sensible of what great importance it

is in critical times to have the soldiers united under one general with

the entire and absolute control placed in his hands.  Add to all, the

remembrance of Camillus's treatment, which made it now seem a dangerous

thing for officers to command without humoring their soldiers.  In this

condition they left the city, and encamped by the river Allia, about ten

miles from Rome, and not far from the place where it falls into the

Tiber; and here the Gauls came upon them, and, after a disgraceful

resistance, devoid of order and discipline, they were miserably

defeated.  The left wing was immediately driven into the river, and

there destroyed; the right had less damage by declining the shock, and

from the low grounds getting to the tops of the hills, from whence most

of them afterwards dropped into the city; the rest, as many as escaped,

the enemy being weary of the slaughter, stole by night to Veii, giving

up Rome and all that was in it for lost.

This battle was fought about the summer solstice, the moon being at

full, the very same day in which the sad disaster of the Fabii had

happened, when three hundred of that name were at one time cut off by

the Tuscans.  But from this second loss and defeat the day got the name

of Alliensis, from the river Allia, and still retains it.  The question

of unlucky days, whether we should consider any to be so, and whether

Heraclitus did well in upbraiding Hesiod for distinguishing them into

fortunate and unfortunate, as ignorant that the nature of every day is

the same, I have examined in another place; but upon occasion of the

present subject, I think it will not be amiss to annex a few examples

relating to this matter.  On the fifth of their month Hippodromius,

which corresponds to the Athenian Hecatombaeon, the Boeotians gained two

signal victories, the one at Leuctra, the other at Ceressus, about three

hundred years before, when they overcame Lattamyas and the Thessalians,

both which asserted the liberty of Greece.  Again, on the sixth of

Boedromion, the Persians were worsted by the Greeks at Marathon; on the

third, at Plataea, as also at Mycale; on the twenty-fifth, at Arbela.

The Athenians, about the full moon in Boedromion, gained their sea-

victory at Naxos under the conduct of Chabrias; on the twentieth, at

Salamis, as we have shown in our treatise on Days.  Thargelion was a

very unfortunate month to the barbarians, for in it Alexander overcame

Darius's generals on the Granicus; and the Carthaginians, on the twenty-

fourth, were beaten by Timoleon in Sicily, on which same day and month

Troy seems to have been taken, as Ephorus, Callisthenes, Damastes, and

Phylarchus state.  On the other hand, the month Metagitnion, which in

Boeotia is called Panemus, was not very lucky to the Greeks; for on its

seventh day they were defeated by Antipater, at the battle in Cranon,

and utterly ruined; and before, at Chaeronea, were defeated by Philip;

and on the very same day, same month, and same year, those that went

with Archidamus into Italy were there cut off by the barbarians.  The

Carthaginians also observe the twenty-first of the same month, as

bringing with it the largest number and the severest of their losses.  I

am not ignorant, that, about the Feast of Mysteries, Thebes was

destroyed the second time by Alexander; and after that, upon the very

twentieth of Boedromion, on which day they lead forth the mystic

Iacchus, the Athenians received a garrison of the Macedonians.  On the

selfsame day the Romans lost their army under Caepio by the Cimbrians,

and in a subsequent year, under the conduct of Lucullus, overcame the

Armenians and Tigranes.  King Attalus and Pompey died both on their

birthdays.  One could reckon up several that have had variety of fortune

on the same day.  This day, meantime, is one of the unfortunate ones to

the Romans, and for its sake two others in every month; fear and

superstition, as the custom of it is, more and more prevailing.  But I

have discussed this more accurately in my Roman Questions.

And now, after the battle, had the Gauls immediately pursued those that

fled, there had been no remedy but Rome must have wholly been ruined,

and all those who remained in it utterly destroyed; such was the terror

that those who escaped the battle brought with them into the city, and

with such distraction and confusion were themselves in turn infected.

But the Gauls, not imagining their victory to be so considerable, and

overtaken with the present joy, fell to feasting and dividing the spoil,

by which means they gave leisure to those who were for leaving the city

to make their escape, and to those that remained, to anticipate and

prepare for their coming.  For they who resolved to stay at Rome,

abandoning the rest of the city, betook themselves to the Capitol, which

they fortified with the help of missiles and new works.  One of their

principal cares was of their holy things, most of which they conveyed

into the Capitol.  But the consecrated fire the vestal virgins took, and

fled with it, as likewise their other sacred things.  Some write that

they have nothing in their charge but the ever-living fire which Numa

had ordained to be worshipped as the principle of all things; for fire

is the most active thing in nature, and all production is either motion,

or attended with motion; all the other parts of matter, so long as they

are without warmth, lie sluggish and dead, and require the accession of

a sort of soul or vitality in the principle of heat; and upon that

accession, in whatever way, immediately receive a capacity either of

acting or being acted upon.  And thus Numa, a man curious in such

things, and whose wisdom made it thought that he conversed with the

Muses, consecrated fire, and ordained it to be kept ever burning, as an

image of that eternal power which orders and actuates all things.

Others say that this fire was kept burning in front of the holy things,

as in Greece, for purification, and that there were other things hid in

the most secret part of the temple, which were kept from the view of

all, except those virgins whom they call vestals.  The most common

opinion was, that the image of Pallas, brought into Italy by Aeneas, was

laid up there; others say that the Samothracian images lay there,

telling a story how that Dardanus carried them to Troy, and, when he had

built the city, celebrated those rites, and dedicated those images

there; that after Troy was taken, Aeneas stole them away, and kept them

till his coming into Italy.  But they who profess to know more of the

matter affirm that there are two barrels, not of any great size, one of

which stands open and has nothing in it, the other full and sealed up;

but that neither of them may be seen but by the most holy virgins.

Others think that they who say this are misled by the fact that the

virgins put most of their holy things into two barrels at this time of

the Gaulish invasion, and hid them underground in the temple of

Quirinus; and that from hence that place to this day bears the name of

Barrels.

However it be, taking the most precious and important things they had,

they fled away with them, shaping their course along the river side,

where Lucius Albinius, a simple citizen of Rome, who among others was

making his escape, overtook them, having his wife, children, and goods

in a cart; and, seeing the virgins dragging along in their arms the holy

things of the gods, in a helpless and weary condition, he caused his

wife and children to get down, and, taking out his goods, put the

virgins in the cart, that they might make their escape to some of the

Greek cities.  This devout act of Albinius, and the respect he showed

thus signally to the gods at a time of such extremity, deserved not to

be passed over in silence.  But the priests that belonged to other gods,

and the most elderly of the senators, men who had been consuls and had

enjoyed triumphs, could not endure to leave the city; but, putting on

their sacred and splendid robes, Fabius the high-priest performing the

office, they made their prayers to the gods, and, devoting themselves,

as it were, for their country, sat themselves down in their ivory

chairs in the forum, and in that posture expected the event.

On the third day after the battle, Brennus appeared with his army at the

city, and, finding the gates wide open and no guards upon the walls,

first began to suspect it was some design or stratagem, never dreaming

that the Romans were in so desperate a condition.  But when he found it

to be so indeed, he entered at the Colline gate, and took Rome, in the

three hundred and sixtieth year, or a little more, after it was built;

if, indeed, it can be supposed probable that an exact chronological

statement has been preserved of events which were themselves the cause

of chronological difficulties about things of later date; of the

calamity itself, however, and of the fact of the capture, some faint

rumors seem to have passed at the time into Greece.  Heraclides

Ponticus, who lived not long after these times, in his book upon the

Soul, relates that a certain report came from the west, that an army,

proceeding from the Hyperboreans, had taken a Greek city called Rome,

seated somewhere upon the great sea.  But I do not wonder that so

fabulous and high-flown an author as Heraclides should embellish the

truth of the story with expressions about Hyperboreans and the great

sea.  Aristotle the philosopher appears to have heard a correct

statement of the taking of the city by the Gauls, but he calls its

deliverer Lucius; whereas Camillus's surname was not Lucius, but Marcus.

But this is a matter of conjecture.

Brennus, having taken possession of Rome, set a strong guard about the

Capitol, and, going himself down into the forum, was there struck with

amazement at the sight of so many men sitting in that order and silence,

observing that they neither rose at his coming, nor so much as changed

color or countenance, but remained without fear or concern, leaning upon

their staves, and sitting quietly, looking at each other.  The Gauls,

for a great while, stood wondering at the strangeness of the sight not

daring to approach or touch them, taking them for an assembly of

superior beings.  But when one, bolder than the rest, drew near to

Marcus Papirius, and, putting forth his hand, gently touched his chin

and stroked his long beard, Papirius with his staff struck him a severe

blow on the head; upon which the barbarian drew his sword and slew him.

This was the introduction to the slaughter; for the rest, following his

example, set upon them all and killed them, and dispatched all others

that came in their way; and so went on to the sacking and pillaging the

houses, which they continued for many days ensuing.  Afterwards, they

burnt them down to the ground and demolished them, being incensed at

those who kept the Capitol, because they would not yield to summons;

but, on the contrary, when assailed, had repelled them, with some loss,

from their defenses.  This provoked them to ruin the whole city, and to

put to the sword all that came to their hands, young and old, men,

women, and children.

And now, the siege of the Capitol having lasted a good while, the Gauls

began to be in want of provision; and dividing their forces, part of

them stayed with their king at the siege, the rest went to forage the

country, ravaging the towns and villages where they came, but not all

together in a body, but in different squadrons and parties; and to such

a confidence had success raised them, that they carelessly rambled about

without the least fear or apprehension of danger.  But the greatest and

best ordered body of their forces went to the city of Ardea, where

Camillus then sojourned, having, ever since his leaving Rome,

sequestered himself from all business, and taken to a private life; but

now he began to rouse up himself, and consider not how to avoid or

escape the enemy, but to find out an opportunity to be revenged upon

them.  And perceiving that the Ardeatians wanted not men, but rather

enterprise, through the inexperience and timidity of their officers, he

began to speak with the young men, first, to the effect that they ought

not to ascribe the misfortune of the Romans to the courage of their

enemy, nor attribute the losses they sustained by rash counsel to the

conduct of men who had no title to victory; the event had been only an

evidence of the power of fortune; that it was a brave thing even with

danger to repel a foreign and barbarous invader, whose end in conquering

was like fire, to lay waste and destroy, but if they would be courageous

and resolute, he was ready to put an opportunity into their hands to

gain a victory without hazard at all.  When he found the young men

embraced the thing, he went to the magistrates and council of the city,

and, having persuaded them also, he mustered all that could bear arms,

and drew them up within the walls, that they might not be perceived by

the enemy, who was near; who, having scoured the country, and now

returned heavy-laden with booty, lay encamped in the plains in a

careless and negligent posture, so that, with the night ensuing upon

debauch and drunkenness, silence prevailed through all the camp.  When

Camillus learned this from his scouts, he drew out the Ardeatians, and

in the dead of the night, passing in silence over the ground that lay

between, came up to their works, and, commanding his trumpets to sound

and his men to shout and halloo, he struck terror into them from all

quarters; while drunkenness impeded and sleep retarded their movements.

A few, whom fear had sobered, getting into some order, for awhile

resisted; and so died with their weapons in their hands.  But the

greatest part of them, buried in wine and sleep, were surprised without

their arms, and dispatched; and as many of them as by the advantage of

the night got out of the camp were the next day found scattered abroad

and wandering in the fields, and were picked up by the horse that

pursued them.

The fame of this action soon flew through the neighboring cities, and

stirred up the young men from various quarters to come and join

themselves with him.  But none were so much concerned as those Romans

who escaped in the battle of Allia, and were now at Veii, thus lamenting

with themselves, "O heavens, what a commander has Providence bereaved

Rome of, to honor Ardea with his actions!  And that city, which brought

forth and nursed so great a man, is lost and gone, and we, destitute of

a leader and shut up within strange walls, sit idle, and see Italy

ruined before our eyes.  Come, let us send to the Ardeatians to have

back our general, or else, with weapons in our hands, let us go thither

to him; for he is no longer a banished man, nor we citizens, having no

country but what is in the possession of the enemy."  To this they all

agreed, and sent to Camillus to desire him to take the command; but he

answered, that he would not, until they that were in the Capitol should

legally appoint him; for he esteemed them, as long as they were in

being, to be his country; that if they should command him, he would

readily obey; but against their consent he would intermeddle with

nothing.  When this answer was returned, they admired the modesty and

temper of Camillus; but they could not tell how to find a messenger to

carry the intelligence to the Capitol, or rather, indeed, it seemed

altogether impossible for any one to get to the citadel whilst the enemy

was in full possession of the city.  But among the young men there was

one Pontius Cominius, of ordinary birth, but ambitious of honor, who

proffered himself to run the hazard, and took no letters with him to

those in the Capitol, lest, if he were intercepted, the enemy might

learn the intentions of Camillus; but, putting on a poor dress and

carrying corks under it, he boldly traveled the greatest part of the way

by day, and came to the city when it was dark; the bridge he could not

pass, as it was guarded by the barbarians; so that taking his clothes,

which were neither many nor heavy, and binding them about his head, he

laid his body upon the corks, and, swimming with them, got over to the

city.  And avoiding those quarters where he perceived the enemy was

awake, which he guessed at by the lights and noise, he went to the

Carmental gate, where there was greatest silence, and where the hill of

the Capitol is steepest, and rises with craggy and broken rock.  By this

way he got up, though with much difficulty, by the hollow of the cliff,

and presented himself to the guards, saluting them, and telling them his

name; he was taken in, and carried to the commanders.  And a senate

being immediately called, he related to them in order the victory of

Camillus, which they had not heard of before, and the proceedings of the

soldiers; urging them to confirm Camillus in the command, as on him

alone all their fellow-countrymen outside the city would rely.  Having

heard and consulted of the matter, the senate declared Camillus

dictator, and sent back Pontius the same way that he came, who, with the

same success as before, got through the enemy without being discovered,

and delivered to the Romans outside the decision of the senate, who

joyfully received it.  Camillus, on his arrival, found twenty thousand

of them ready in arms; with which forces, and those confederates he

brought along with him, he prepared to set upon the enemy.

But at Rome some of the barbarians, passing by chance near the place at

which Pontius by night had got into the Capitol, spied in several places

marks of feet and hands, where he had laid hold and clambered, and

places where the plants that grew to the rock had been rubbed off, and

the earth had slipped, and went accordingly and reported it to the king,

who, coming in person, and viewing it, for the present said nothing, but

in the evening, picking out such of the Gauls as were nimblest of body,

and by living in the mountains were accustomed to climb, he said to

them, "The enemy themselves have shown us a way how to come at them,

which we knew not of before, and have taught us that it is not so

difficult and impossible but that men may overcome it.  It would be a

great shame, having begun well, to fail in the end, and to give up a

place as impregnable, when the enemy himself lets us see the way by

which it may be taken; for where it was easy for one man to get up, it

will not be hard for many, one after another; nay, when many shall

undertake it, they will be aid and strength to each other.  Rewards and

honors shall be bestowed on every man as he shall acquit himself."

When the king had thus spoken, the Gauls cheerfully undertook to perform

it, and in the dead of night a good party of them together, with great

silence, began to climb the rock, clinging to the precipitous and

difficult ascent, which yet upon trial offered a way to them, and proved

less difficult than they had expected.  So that the foremost of them

having gained the top of all, and put themselves into order, they all

but surprised the outworks, and mastered the watch, who were fast

asleep; for neither man nor dog perceived their coming.  But there were

sacred geese kept near the temple of Juno, which at other times were

plentifully fed, but now, by reason that corn and all other provisions

were grown scarce for all, were but in a poor condition.  The creature

is by nature of quick sense, and apprehensive of the least noise, so

that these, being moreover watchful through hunger, and restless,

immediately discovered the coming of the Gauls, and, running up and down

with their noise and cackling, they raised the whole camp, while the

barbarians on the other side, perceiving themselves discovered, no

longer endeavored to conceal their attempt, but with shouting and

violence advanced to the assault.  The Romans, every one in haste

snatching up the next weapon that came to hand, did what they could on

the sudden occasion.  Manlius, a man of consular dignity, of strong body

and great spirit, was the first that made head against them, and,

engaging with two of the enemy at once, with his sword cut off the right

arm of one just as he was lifting up his blade to strike, and, running

his target full in the face of the other, tumbled him headlong down the

steep rock; then mounting the rampart, and there standing with others

that came running to his assistance, drove down the rest of them, who,

indeed, to begin, had not been many, and did nothing worthy of so bold

an attempt.  The Romans, having thus escaped this danger, early in the

morning took the captain of the watch and flung him down the rock upon

the heads of their enemies, and to Manlius for his victory voted a

reward, intended more for honor than advantage, bringing him, each man

of them, as much as he received for his daily allowance, which was half

a pound of bread, and one eighth of a pint of wine.

Henceforward, the affairs of the Gauls were daily in a worse and worse

condition; they wanted provisions, being withheld from foraging through

fear of Camillus, and sickness also was amongst them, occasioned by the

number of carcasses that lay in heaps unburied.  Being lodged among the

ruins, the ashes, which were very deep, blown about with the winds and

combining with the sultry heats, breathed up, so to say, a dry and

searching air, the inhalation of which was destructive to their health.

But the chief cause was the change from their natural climate, coming as

they did out of shady and hilly countries, abounding in means of shelter

from the heat, to lodge in low, and, in the autumn season, very

unhealthy ground; added to which was the length and tediousness of the

siege, as they had now sat seven months before the Capitol.  There was,

therefore, a great destruction among them, and the number of the dead

grew so great, that the living gave up burying them.  Neither, indeed,

were things on that account any better with the besieged, for famine

increased upon them, and despondency with not hearing any thing of

Camillus, it being impossible to send any one to him, the city was so

guarded by the barbarians.  Things being in this sad condition on both

sides, a motion of treaty was made at first by some of the outposts, as

they happened to speak with one another; which being embraced by the

leading men, Sulpicius, tribune of the Romans, came to a parley with

Brennus, in which it was agreed, that the Romans laying down a thousand

weight of gold, the Gauls upon the receipt of it should immediately quit

the city and territories.  The agreement being confirmed by oath on both

sides, and the gold brought forth, the Gauls used false dealing in the

weights, secretly at first, but afterwards openly pulled back and

disturbed the balance; at which the Romans indignantly complaining,

Brennus in a scoffing and insulting manner pulled off his sword and

belt, and threw them both into the scales; and when Sulpicius asked what

that meant, "What should it mean," says he, "but woe to the conquered?"

which afterwards became a proverbial saying.  As for the Romans, some

were so incensed that they were for taking their gold back again, and

returning to endure the siege.  Others were for passing by and

dissembling a petty injury, and not to account that the indignity of the

thing lay in paying more than was due, since the paying anything at all

was itself a dishonor only submitted to as a necessity of the times.

Whilst this difference remained still unsettled, both amongst themselves

and with the Gauls, Camillus was at the gates with his army; and, having

learned what was going on, commanded the main body of his forces to

follow slowly after him in good order, and himself with the choicest of

his men hastening on, went at once to the Romans; where all giving way

to him, and receiving him as their sole magistrate, with profound

silence and order, he took the gold out of the scales, and delivered it

to his officers, and commanded the Gauls to take their weights and

scales and depart; saying that it was customary with the Romans to

deliver their country with iron, not with gold.  And when Brennus began to

rage, and say that he was unjustly dealt with in such a breach of

contract, Camillus answered that it was never legally made, and the

agreement of no force or obligation; for that himself being declared

dictator, and there being no other magistrate by law, the engagement had

been made with men who had no power to enter into it; but now they might

say anything they had to urge, for he was come with full power by law

to grant pardon to such as should ask it, or inflict punishment on the

guilty, if they did not repent.  At this, Brennus broke into violent

anger, and an immediate quarrel ensued; both sides drew their swords and

attacked, but in confusion, as could not otherwise be amongst houses,

and ill narrow lanes and places where it was impossible to form in any

order.  But Brennus, presently recollecting himself, called off his men,

and, with the loss of a few only, brought them to their camp; and,

rising in the night with all his forces, left the city, and, advancing

about eight miles, encamped upon the way to Gabii.  As soon as day

appeared, Camillus came up with him, splendidly armed himself, and his

soldiers full of courage and confidence; and there engaging with him in

a sharp conflict, which lasted a long while, overthrew his army with

great slaughter, and took their camp.  Of those that fled, some were

presently cut off by the pursuers; others, and these were the greatest

number, dispersed hither and thither, and were dispatched by the people

that came sallying out from the neighboring towns and villages.

Thus Rome was strangely taken, and more strangely recovered, having been

seven whole months in the possession of the barbarians who entered her a

little after the Ides of July, and were driven out about the Ides of

February following.  Camillus triumphed, as he deserved, having saved

his country that was lost, and brought the city, so to say, back again

to itself.  For those that had fled abroad, together with their wives

and children, accompanied him as he rode in; and those who had been shut

up in the Capitol, and were reduced almost to the point of perishing

with hunger, went out to meet him, embracing each other as they met, and

weeping for joy and, through the excess of the present pleasure, scarce

believing in its truth.  And when the priests and ministers of the gods

appeared, bearing the sacred things, which in their flight they had

either hid on the spot, or conveyed away with them, and now openly

showed in safety, the citizens who saw the blessed sight felt as if with

these the gods themselves were again returned unto Rome.  After Camillus

had sacrificed to the gods, and purified the city according to the

direction of those properly instructed, he restored the existing

temples, and erected a new one to Rumour, or Voice, informing himself

of the spot in which that voice from heaven came by night to Marcus

Caedicius, foretelling the coming of the barbarian army.

It was a matter of difficulty, and a hard task, amidst so much rubbish,

to discover and redetermine the consecrated places; but by the zeal of

Camillus, and the incessant labor of the priests, it was at last

accomplished.  But when it came also to rebuilding the city, which was

wholly demolished, despondency seized the multitude, and a backwardness

to engage in a work for which they had no materials; at a time, too,

when they rather needed relief and repose from their past labors, than

any new demands upon their exhausted strength and impaired fortunes.

Thus insensibly they turned their thoughts again towards Veii, a city

ready-built and well-provided, and gave an opening to the arts of

flatterers eager to gratify their desires, and lent their ears to

seditious language flung out against Camillus; as that, out of ambition

and self-glory, he withheld them from a city fit to receive them,

forcing them to live in the midst of ruins, and to re-erect a pile of

burnt rubbish, that he might be esteemed not the chief magistrate only

and general of Rome, but, to the exclusion of Romulus, its founder,

also.  The senate, therefore, fearing a sedition, would not suffer

Camillus, though desirous, to lay down his authority within the year,

though no other dictator had ever held it above six months.

They themselves, meantime, used their best endeavors, by kind

persuasions and familiar addresses, to encourage and to appease the

people, showing them the shrines and tombs of their ancestors, calling

to their remembrance the sacred spots and holy places which Romulus and

Numa or any other of their kings had consecrated and left to their

keeping; and among the strongest religious arguments, urged the head,

newly separated from the body, which was found in laying the foundation

of the Capitol, marking it as a place destined by fate to be the head of

all Italy; and the holy fire which had just been rekindled again, since

the end of the war, by the vestal virgins; "What a disgrace would it be

to them to lose and extinguish this, leaving the city it belonged to, to

be either inhabited by strangers and new-comers, or left a wild pasture

for cattle to graze on?"  Such reasons as these, urged with complaint

and expostulation, sometimes in private upon individuals, and sometimes

in their public assemblies, were met, on the other hand, by laments and

protestations of distress and helplessness; entreaties, that, reunited

as they just were, after a sort of shipwreck, naked and destitute, they

would not constrain them to patch up the pieces of a ruined and

shattered city, when they had another at hand ready-built and prepared.

Camillus thought good to refer it to general deliberation, and himself

spoke largely and earnestly in behalf of his country, as also many

others.  At last, calling to Lucius Lucretius, whose place it was to

speak first, he commanded him to give his sentence, and the rest as they

followed, in order.  Silence being made, and Lucretius just about to

begin, by chance a centurion, passing by outside with his company of the

day-guard, called out with a loud voice to the ensign-bearer to halt and

fix his standard, for this was the best place to stay in.  This voice,

coming in that moment of time, and at that crisis of uncertainty and

anxiety for the future, was taken as a direction what was to be done;

so that Lucretius, assuming an attitude of devotion, gave sentence in

concurrence with the gods, as he said, as likewise did all that

followed.  Even among the common people it created a wonderful change of

feeling; every one now cheered and encouraged his neighbor, and set

himself to the work, proceeding in it, however, not by any regular lines

or divisions, but every one pitching upon that plot of ground which came

next to hand, or best pleased his fancy; by which haste and hurry in

building, they constructed their city in narrow and ill-designed lanes,

and with houses huddled together one upon another; for it is said that

within the compass of the year the whole city was raised up anew, both

in its public walls and private buildings.  The persons, however,

appointed by Camillus to resume and mark out, in this general confusion,

all consecrated places, coming, in their way round the Palatium, to the

chapel of Mars, found the chapel itself indeed destroyed and burnt to

the ground, like everything else, by the barbarians; but whilst they

were clearing the place, and carrying away the rubbish, lit upon

Romulus's augural staff, buried under a great heap of ashes.  This sort

of staff is crooked at one end, and is called lituus; they make use of

it in quartering out the regions of the heavens when engaged in

divination from the flight of birds; Romulus, who was himself a great

diviner, made use of it.  But when he disappeared from the earth, the

priests took his staff and kept it, as other holy things, from the touch

of man; and when they now found that, whereas all other things were

consumed, this staff had altogether escaped the flames, they began to

conceive happier hopes of Rome, and to augur from this token its future

everlasting safety.

And now they had scarcely got a breathing time from their trouble, when

a new war came upon them; and the Aequians, Volscians, and Latins all at

once invaded their territories, and the Tuscans besieged Sutrium, their

confederate city.  The military tribunes who commanded the army, and

were encamped about the hill Maecius, being closely besieged by the

Latins, and the camp in danger to be lost, sent to Rome, where Camillus

was a third time chosen dictator.  Of this war two different accounts

are given; I shall begin with the more fabulous.  They say that the

Latins (whether out of pretense, or a real design to revive the ancient

relationship of the two nations) sent to desire of the Romans some free-

born maidens in marriage; that when the Romans were at a loss how to

determine (for on one hand they dreaded a war, having scarcely yet

settled and recovered themselves, and on the other side suspected that

this asking of wives was, in plain terms, nothing else but a demand for

hostages, though covered over with the specious name of intermarriage

and alliance), a certain handmaid, by name Tutula, or, as some call her,

Philotis, persuaded the magistrates to send with her some of the most

youthful and best looking maid-servants, in the bridal dress of noble

virgins, and leave the rest to her care and management; that the

magistrates consenting, chose out as many as she thought necessary for

her purpose, and, adorning them with gold and rich clothes, delivered

them to the Latins, who were encamped not far from the city; that at

night the rest stole away the enemy's swords, but Tutula or Philotis,

getting to the top of a wild fig-tree, and spreading out a thick woolen

cloth behind her, held out a torch towards Rome, which was the signal

concerted between her and the commanders, without the knowledge,

however, of any other of the citizens, which was the reason that their

issuing out from the city was tumultuous, the officers pushing their men

on, and they calling upon one another's names, and scarce able to bring

themselves into order; that setting upon the enemy's works, who either

were asleep or expected no such matter, they took the camp, and

destroyed most of them; and that this was done on the nones of July,

which was then called Quintilis, and that the feast that is observed on

that day is a commemoration of what was then done.  For in it, first,

they run out of the city in great crowds, and call out aloud several

familiar and common names, Caius, Marcus, Lucius, and the like, in

representation of the way in which they called to one another when they

went out in such haste.  In the next place, the maid-servants, gaily

dressed, run about, playing and jesting upon all they meet, and amongst

themselves, also, use a kind of skirmishing, to show they helped in the

conflict against the Latins; and while eating and drinking, they sit

shaded over with boughs of wild fig-tree, and the day they call Nonae

Caprotinae, as some think from that wild fig-tree on which the maid-

servant held up her torch, the Roman name for a wild fig-tree being

caprificus.  Others refer most of what is said or done at this feast to

the fate of Romulus, for, on this day, he vanished outside the gates in

a sudden darkness and storm (some think it an eclipse of the sun), and

from this, the day was called Nonae Caprotinae, the Latin for a goat

being capra, and the place where he disappeared having the name of

Goat's Marsh, as is stated in his life.

But the general stream of writers prefer the other account of this war,

which they thus relate.  Camillus, being the third time chosen dictator,

and learning that the army under the tribunes was besieged by the Latins

and Volscians, was constrained to arm, not only those under, but also

those over, the age of service; and taking a large circuit round the

mountain Maecius, undiscovered by the enemy, lodged his army on their

rear, and then by many fires gave notice of his arrival.  The besieged,

encouraged by this, prepared to sally forth and join battle; but the

Latins and Volscians, fearing this exposure to an enemy on both sides,

drew themselves within their works, and fortified their camp with a

strong palisade of trees on every side, resolving to wait for more

supplies from home, and expecting, also, the assistance of the Tuscans,

their confederates.  Camillus, detecting their object, and fearing to be

reduced to the same position to which he had brought them, namely, to be

besieged himself, resolved to lose no time; and finding their rampart

was all of timber, and observing that a strong wind constantly at sun-

rising blew off from the mountains, after having prepared a quantity of

combustibles, about break of day he drew forth his forces, commanding a

part with their missiles to assault the enemy with noise and shouting on

the other quarter, whilst he, with those that were to fling in the fire,

went to that side of the enemy's camp to which the wind usually blew,

and there waited his opportunity.  When the skirmish was begun, and the

sun risen, and a strong wind set in from the mountains, he gave the

signal of onset; and, heaping in an infinite quantity of fiery matter,

filled all their rampart with it, so that the flame being fed by the

close timber and wooden palisades, went on and spread into all quarters.

The Latins, having nothing ready to keep it off or extinguish it, when

the camp was now almost full of fire, were driven back within a very

small compass, and at last forced by necessity to come into their

enemy's hands, who stood before the works ready armed and prepared to

receive them; of these very few escaped, while those that stayed in the

camp were all a prey to the fire, until the Romans, to gain the pillage,

extinguished it.

These things performed, Camillus, leaving his son Lucius in the camp to

guard the prisoners and secure the booty, passed into the enemy's

country, where, having taken the city of the Aequians and reduced the

Volscians to obedience, he then immediately led his army to Sutrium, not

having heard what had befallen the Sutrians, but making haste to assist

them, as if they were still in danger and besieged by the Tuscans.

They, however, had already surrendered their city to their enemies, and

destitute of all things, with nothing left but their clothes, met

Camillus on the way, leading their wives and children, and bewailing

their misfortune.  Camillus himself was struck with compassion, and

perceiving the soldiers weeping, and commiserating their case, while the

Sutrians hung about and clung to them, resolved not to defer revenge,

but that very day to lead his army to Sutrium; conjecturing that the

enemy, having just taken a rich and plentiful city, without an enemy

left within it, nor any from without to be expected, would be found

abandoned to enjoyment and unguarded.  Neither did his opinion fail him;

he not only passed through their country without discovery, but came up

to their very gates and possessed himself of the walls, not a man being

left to guard them, but their whole army scattered about in the houses,

drinking and making merry.  Nay, when at last they did perceive that the

enemy had seized the city, they were so overloaded with meat and wine,

that few were able so much as to endeavor to escape, but either waited

shamefully for their death within doors, or surrendered themselves to

the conqueror.  Thus the city of the Sutrians was twice taken in one

day; and they who were in possession lost it, and they who had lost

regained it, alike by the means of Camillus.  For all which actions he

received a triumph, which brought him no less honor and reputation than

the two former ones; for those citizens who before most regarded him

with an evil eye, and ascribed his successes to a certain luck rather

than real merit, were compelled by these last acts of his to allow the

whole honor to his great abilities and energy.

Of all the adversaries and enviers of his glory, Marcus Manlius was the

most distinguished, he who first drove back the Gauls when they made

their night attack upon the Capitol, and who for that reason had been

named Capitolinus.  This man, affecting the first place in the

commonwealth, and not able by noble ways to outdo Camillus's reputation,

took that ordinary course towards usurpation of absolute power, namely,

to gain the multitude, those of them especially that were in debt;

defending some by pleading their causes against their creditors,

rescuing others by force, and not suffering the law to proceed against

them; insomuch that in a short time he got great numbers of indigent

people about him, whose tumults and uproars in the forum struck terror

into the principal citizens.  After that Quintius Capitolinus, who was

made dictator to suppress these disorders, had committed Manlius to

prison, the people immediately changed their apparel, a thing never done

but in great and public calamities, and the senate, fearing some tumult,

ordered him to be released.  He, however, when set at liberty, changed

not his course, but was rather the more insolent in his proceedings,

filling the whole city with faction and sedition.  They chose,

therefore, Camillus again military tribune; and a day being appointed

for Manlius to answer to his charge, the prospect from the place where

his trial was held proved a great impediment to his accusers; for the

very spot where Manlius by night fought with the Gauls overlooked the

forum from the Capitol, so that, stretching forth his hands that way,

and weeping, he called to their remembrance his past actions, raising

compassion in all that beheld him.  Insomuch that the judges were at a

loss what to do, and several times adjourned the trial, unwilling to

acquit him of the crime, which was sufficiently proved, and yet unable

to execute the law while his noble action remained, as it were, before

their eyes.  Camillus, considering this, transferred the court outside

the gates to the Peteline Grove, from whence there is no prospect of the

Capitol.  Here his accuser went on with his charge, and his judges were

capable of remembering and duly resenting his guilty deeds.  He was

convicted, carried to the Capitol, and flung headlong from the rock; so

that one and the same spot was thus the witness of his greatest glory,

and monument of his most unfortunate end.  The Romans, besides, razed

his house, and built there a temple to the goddess they call Moneta,

ordaining for the future that none of the patrician order should ever

dwell on the Capitoline.

And now Camillus, being called to his sixth tribuneship, desired to be

excused, as being aged, and perhaps not unfearful of the malice of

fortune, and those reverses which seem to ensue upon great prosperity.

But the most apparent pretense was the weakness of his body, for he

happened at that time to be sick; the people, however, would admit of no

excuses, but, crying that they wanted not his strength for horse or for

foot service, but only his counsel and conduct, constrained him to

undertake the command, and with one of his fellow-tribunes to lead the

army immediately against the enemy.  These were the Praenestines and

Volscians, who, with large forces, were laying waste the territory of

the Roman confederates.  Having marched out with his army, he sat down

and encamped near the enemy, meaning himself to protract the war, or if

there should come any necessity or occasion of fighting, in the mean

time to regain his strength.  But Lucius Furius, his colleague, carried

away with the desire of glory, was not to be held in, but, impatient to

give battle, inflamed the inferior officers of the army with the same

eagerness; so that Camillus, fearing he might seem out of envy to be

wishing to rob the young men of the glory of a noble exploit, consented,

though unwillingly, that he should draw out the forces, whilst himself,

by reason of weakness, stayed behind with a few in the camp.  Lucius,

engaging rashly, was discomfited, when Camillus, perceiving the Romans

to give ground and fly, could not contain himself, but, leaping from his

bed, with those he had about him ran to meet them at the gates of the

camp, making his way through the flyers to oppose the pursuers; so that

those who had got within the camp turned back at once and followed him,

and those that came flying from without made head again and gathered

about him, exhorting one another not to forsake their general.  Thus the

enemy for that time, was stopped in his pursuit.  The next day Camillus

drawing out his forces and joining battle with them, overthrew them by

main force, and, following close upon them, entered pell-mell with them

into their camp and took it, slaying the greatest part of them.

Afterwards, having heard that the city Satricum was taken by the

Tuscans, and the inhabitants, all Romans, put to the sword, he sent home

to Rome the main body of his forces and heaviest-armed, and, taking

with him the lightest and most vigorous soldiers, set suddenly upon the

Tuscans, who were in the possession of the city, and mastered them,

slaying some and expelling the rest; and so, returning to Rome with

great spoils, gave signal evidence of their superior wisdom, who, not

mistrusting the weakness and age of a commander endued with courage and

conduct, had rather chosen him who was sickly and desirous to be

excused, than younger men who were forward and ambitious to command.

When, therefore, the revolt of the Tusculans was reported, they gave

Camillus the charge of reducing them, choosing one of his five

colleagues to go with him.  And when every one was eager for the place,

contrary to the expectation of all, he passed by the rest and chose

Lucius Furius, the very same man who lately, against the judgment of

Camillus, had rashly hazarded and nearly lost a battle; willing, as it

should seem, to dissemble that miscarriage, and free him from the shame

of it.  The Tusculans, hearing of Camillus's coming against them, made a

cunning attempt at revoking their act of revolt; their fields, as in

times of highest peace, were full of plowman and shepherds; their gates

stood wide open, and their children were being taught in the schools; of

the people, such as were tradesmen, he found in their workshops, busied

about their several employments, and the better sort of citizens walking

in the public places in their ordinary dress; the magistrates hurried

about to provide quarters for the Romans, as if they stood in fear of no

danger and were conscious of no fault.  Which arts, though they could

not dispossess Camillus of the conviction he had of their treason, yet

induced some compassion for their repentance; he commanded them to go to

the senate and deprecate their anger, and joined himself as an

intercessor in their behalf, so that their city was acquitted of all

guilt and admitted to Roman citizenship, These were the most memorable

actions of his sixth tribuneship.

After these things, Licinius Stolo raised a great sedition in the city,

and brought the people to dissension with the senate, contending, that

of two consuls one should be chosen out of the commons, and not both out

of the patricians.  Tribunes of the people were chosen, but the election

of consuls was interrupted and prevented by the people.  And as this

absence of any supreme magistrate was leading to yet further confusion,

Camillus was the fourth time created dictator by the senate, sorely

against the people's will, and not altogether in accordance with his

own; he had little desire for a conflict with men whose past services

entitled them to tell him that he had achieved far greater actions in

war along with them than in politics with the patricians, who, indeed,

had only put him forward now out of envy; that, if successful, he might

crush the people, or, failing, be crushed himself.  However, to provide

as good a remedy as he could for the present, knowing the day on which

the tribunes of the people intended to prefer the law, he appointed it

by proclamation for a general muster, and called the people from the

forum into the Campus, threatening to set heavy fines upon such as

should not obey.  On the other side, the tribunes of the people met his

threats by solemnly protesting they would fine him in fifty thousand

drachmas of silver, if he persisted in obstructing the people from

giving their suffrages for the law.  Whether it were, then, that he

feared another banishment or condemnation which would ill become his age

and past great actions, or found himself unable to stem the current of

the multitude, which ran strong and violent, he betook himself, for the

present, to his house, and afterwards, for some days together,

professing sickness, finally laid down his dictatorship.  The senate

created another dictator; who, choosing Stolo, leader of the sedition,

to be his general of horse, suffered that law to be enacted and

ratified, which was most grievous to the patricians, namely, that no

person whatsoever should possess above five hundred acres of land.

Stolo was much distinguished by the victory he had gained; but, not long

after, was found himself to possess more than he had allowed to others,

and suffered the penalties of his own law.

And now the contention about election of consuls coming on (which was

the main point and original cause of the dissension, and had throughtout

furnished most matter of division between the senate and the people),

certain intelligence arrived, that the Gauls again, proceeding from the

Adriatic Sea, were marching in vast numbers upon Rome.  On the very

heels of the report followed manifest acts also of hostility; the

country through which they marched was all wasted, and such as by flight

could not make their escape to Rome were dispersing and scattering among

the mountains.  The terror of this war quieted the sedition; nobles and

commons, senate and people together, unanimously chose Camillus the

fifth time dictator; who, though very aged, not wanting much of

fourscore years, yet, considering the danger and necessity of his

country, did not, as before, pretend sickness, or depreciate his own

capacity, but at once undertook the charge, and enrolled soldiers.  And,

knowing that the great force of the barbarians lay chiefly in their

swords, with which they laid about them in a rude and inartificial

manner, hacking and hewing the head and shoulders, he caused head-pieces

entire of iron to be made for most of his men, smoothing and polishing

the outside, that the enemy's swords, lighting upon them, might either

slide off or be broken; and fitted also their shields with a little rim

of brass, the wood itself not being sufficient to bear off the blows.

Besides, he taught his soldiers to use their long javelins in close

encounter, and, by bringing them under their enemy's swords, to receive

their strokes upon them.

When the Gauls drew near, about the river Anio, dragging a heavy camp

after them, and loaded with infinite spoil, Camillus drew forth his

forces, and planted himself upon a hill of easy ascent, and which had

many dips in it, with the object that the greatest part of his army

might lie concealed, and those who appeared might be thought to have

betaken themselves, through fear, to those upper grounds.  And the more

to increase this opinion in them, he suffered them, without any

disturbance, to spoil and pillage even to his very trenches, keeping

himself quiet within his works, which were well fortified; till, at

last, perceiving that part of the enemy were scattered about the country

foraging, and that those that were in the camp did nothing day and night

but drink and revel, in the nighttime he drew up his lightest-armed

men, and sent them out before to impede the enemy while forming into

order, and to harass them when they should first issue out of their

camp; and early in the morning brought down his main body, and set them

in battle array in the lower grounds, a numerous and courageous army,

not, as the barbarians had supposed, an inconsiderable and fearful

division.  The first thing that shook the courage of the Gauls was, that

their enemies had, contrary to their expectation, the honor of being

aggressors.  In the next place, the light-armed men, falling upon them

before they could get into their usual order or range themselves in

their proper squadrons, so disturbed and pressed upon them, that they

were obliged to fight at random, without any order at all.  But at last,

when Camillus brought on his heavy-armed legions, the barbarians, with

their swords drawn, went vigorously to engage them; the Romans, however,

opposing their javelins and receiving the force of their blows on those

parts of their defenses which were well guarded with steel, turned the

edge of their weapons, being made of a soft and ill-tempered metal, so

that their swords bent and doubled up in their hands; and their shields

were pierced through and through, and grew heavy with the javelins that

stuck upon them.  And thus forced to quit their own weapons, they

endeavored to take advantage of those of their enemies, laid hold of the

javelins with their hands, and tried to pluck them away.  But the

Romans, perceiving them now naked and defenseless, betook themselves to

their swords, which they so well used, that in a little time great

slaughter was made in the foremost ranks, while the rest fled over all

parts of the level country; the hills and upper grounds Camillus had

secured beforehand, and their camp they knew it would not be difficult

for the enemy to take, as, through confidence of victory, they had left

it unguarded.  This fight, it is stated, was thirteen years after the

sacking of Rome; and from henceforward the Romans took courage, and

surmounted the apprehensions they had hitherto entertained of the

barbarians, whose previous defeat they had attributed rather to

pestilence and a concurrence of mischances than to their own superior

valor.  And, indeed, this fear had been formerly so great, that they

made a law, that priests should be excused from service in war, unless

in an invasion from the Gauls.

This was the last military action that ever Camillus performed; for the

voluntary surrender of the city of the Velitrani was but a mere

accessory to it.  But the greatest of all civil contests, and the

hardest to be managed, was still to be fought out against the people;

who, returning home full of victory and success, insisted, contrary to

established law, to have one of the consuls chosen out of their own

body.  The senate strongly opposed it, and would not suffer Camillus to

lay down his dictatorship, thinking, that, under the shelter of his

great name and authority, they should be better able to contend for the

power of the aristocracy.  But when Camillus was sitting upon the

tribunal, dispatching public affairs, an officer, sent by the tribunes

of the people, commanded him to rise and follow him, laying his hand

upon him, as ready to seize and carry him away; upon which, such a noise

and tumult as was never heard before, filled the whole forum; some that

were about Camillus thrusting the officer from the bench, and the

multitude below calling out to him to bring Camillus down.  Being at a

loss what to do in these difficulties, he yet laid not down his

authority, but, taking the senators along with him, he went to the

senate-house; but before he entered, besought the gods that they would

bring these troubles to a happy conclusion, solemnly vowing, when the

tumult was ended, to build a temple to Concord.  A great conflict of

opposite opinions arose in the senate; but, at last, the most moderate

and most acceptable to the people prevailed, and consent was given, that

of two consuls, one should be chosen from the commonalty.  When the

dictator proclaimed this determination of the senate to the people, at

the moment, pleased and reconciled with the senate, as indeed could not

otherwise be, they accompanied Camillus home, with all expressions and

acclamations of joy; and the next day, assembling together, they voted a

temple of Concord to be built, according to Camillus's vow, facing the

assembly and the forum; and to the feasts, called the Latin holidays,

they added one day more, making four in all; and ordained that, on the

present occasion, the whole people of Rome should sacrifice with

garlands on their heads.

In the election of consuls held by Camillus, Marcus Aemilius was chosen

of the patricians, and Lucius Sextius the first of the commonalty; and

this was the last of all Camillus's actions.  In the year following, a

pestilential sickness infected Rome, which, besides an infinite number

of the common people, swept away most of the magistrates, among whom was

Camillus; whose death cannot be called immature, if we consider his

great age, or greater actions, yet was he more lamented than all the

rest put together that then died of that distemper.

PERICLES

Caesar once, seeing some wealthy strangers at Rome, carrying up and

down with them in their arms and bosoms young puppy-dogs and monkeys,

embracing and making much of them, took occasion not unnaturally to ask

whether the women in their country were not used to bear children; by

that prince-like reprimand gravely reflecting upon persons who spend and

lavish upon brute beasts that affection and kindness which nature has

implanted in us to be bestowed on those of our own kind.  With like

reason may we blame those who misuse that love of inquiry and

observation which nature has implanted in our souls, by expending it on

objects unworthy of the attention either of their eyes or their ears,

while they disregard such as are excellent in themselves, and would do

them good.

The mere outward sense, being passive in responding to the impression of

the objects that come in its way and strike upon it, perhaps cannot help

entertaining and taking notice of everything that addresses it, be it

what it will, useful or unuseful; but, in the exercise of his mental

perception, every man, if he chooses, has a natural power to turn

himself upon all occasions, and to change and shift with the greatest

ease to what he shall himself judge desirable.  So that it becomes a

man's duty to pursue and make after the best and choicest of everything,

that he may not only employ his contemplation, but may also be

improved by it.  For as that color is most suitable to the eye whose

freshness and pleasantness stimulates and strengthens the sight, so a

man ought to apply his intellectual perception to such objects as, with

the sense of delight, are apt to call it forth, and allure it to its

own proper good and advantage.

Such objects we find in the acts of virtue, which also produce in the

minds of mere readers about them, an emulation and eagerness that may

lead them on to imitation.  In other things there does not immediately

follow upon the admiration and liking of the thing done, any strong

desire of doing the like.  Nay, many times, on the very contrary, when

we are pleased with the work, we slight and set little by the workman or

artist himself, as, for instance, in perfumes and purple dyes, we are

taken with the things themselves well enough, but do not think dyers and

perfumers otherwise than low and sordid people.  It was not said amiss

by Antisthenes, when people told him that one Ismenias was an excellent

piper, "It may be so," said he, "but he is but a wretched human being,

otherwise he would not have been an excellent piper."  And king Philip,

to the same purpose, told his son Alexander, who once at a merry-meeting

played a piece of music charmingly and skillfully, "Are you not ashamed,

son, to play so well?"  For it is enough for a king, or prince to find

leisure sometimes to hear others sing, and he does the muses quite honor

enough when he pleases to be but present, while others engage in such

exercises and trials of skill.

He who busies himself in mean occupations produces, in the very pains he

takes about things of little or no use, an evidence against himself of

his negligence and indisposition to what is really good.  Nor did any

generous and ingenuous young man, at the sight of the statue of Jupiter

at Pisa, ever desire to be a Phidias, or, on seeing that of Juno at

Argos, long to be a Polycletus, or feel induced by his pleasure in their

poems to wish to be an Anacreon or Philetas or Archilochus.  For it does

not necessarily follow, that, if a piece of work please for its

gracefulness, therefore he that wrought it deserves our admiration.

Whence it is that neither do such things really profit or advantage the

beholders, upon the sight of which no zeal arises for the imitation of

them, nor any impulse or inclination, which may prompt any desire or

endeavor of doing the like.  But virtue, by the bare statement of its

actions, can so affect men's minds as to create at once both admiration

of the things done and desire to imitate the doers of them.  The goods

of fortune we would possess and would enjoy; those of virtue we long to

practice and exercise; we are content to receive the former from others,

the latter we wish others to experience from us.  Moral good is a

practical stimulus; it is no sooner seen, than it inspires an impulse to

practice; and influences the mind and character not by a mere imitation

which we look at, but, by the statement of the fact, creates a moral

purpose which we form.

And so we have thought fit to spend our time and pains in writing of the

lives of famous persons; and have composed this tenth book upon that

subject, containing the life of Pericles, and that of Fabius Maximus,

who carried on the war against Hannibal, men alike, as in their other

virtues and good parts, so especially in their mild and upright temper

and demeanor, and in that capacity to bear the cross-grained humors of

their fellow-citizens and colleagues in office which made them both most

useful and serviceable to the interests of their countries.  Whether we

take a right aim at our intended purpose, it is left to the reader to

judge by what he shall here find.

Pericles was of the tribe Acamantis, and the township Cholargus, of the

noblest birth both on his father's and mother's side.  Xanthippus, his

father, who defeated the king of Persia's generals in the battle at

Mycale, took to wife Agariste, the grandchild of Clisthenes, who drove

out the sons of Pisistratus, and nobly put an end to their tyrannical

usurpation, and moreover made a body of laws, and settled a model of

government admirably tempered and suited for the harmony and safety of

the people.

His mother, being near her time, fancied in a dream that she was brought

to bed of a lion, and a few days after was delivered of Pericles, in

other respects perfectly formed, only his head was somewhat longish and

out of proportion.  For which reason almost all the images and statues

that were made of him have the head covered with a helmet, the workmen

apparently being willing not to expose him.  The poets of Athens called

him Schinocephalos, or squill-head, from schinos, a squill, or sea-

onion.  One of the comic poets, Cratinus, in the Chirons,

tells us that —

Old Chronos once took queen Sedition to wife;

Which two brought to life

That tyrant far-famed,

Whom the gods the supreme skull-compeller have named.

And, in the Nemesis, addresses him —

Come, Jove, thou head of gods.

And a second, Teleclides, says, that now, in embarrassment with

political difficulties, he sits in the city,—

Fainting underneath the load

Of his own head; and now abroad,

From his huge gallery of a pate,

Sends forth trouble to the state.

And a third, Eupolis, in the comedy called the Demi, in a series of

questions about each of the demagogues, whom he makes in the play to

come up from hell, upon Pericles being named last, exclaims,—

And here by way of summary, now we've done,

Behold, in brief, the heads of all in one.

The master that taught him music, most authors are agreed, was Damon

(whose name, they say, ought to be pronounced with the first syllable

short).  Though Aristotle tells us that he was thoroughly practiced in

all accomplishments of this kind by Pythoclides.  Damon, it is not

unlikely, being a sophist, out of policy, sheltered himself under the

profession of music to conceal from people in general his skill in other

things, and under this pretense attended Pericles, the young athlete of

politics, so to say, as his training-master in these exercises.  Damon's

lyre, however, did not prove altogether a successful blind; he was

banished the country by ostracism for ten years, as a dangerous

intermeddler and a favorer of arbitrary power, and, by this means, gave

the stage occasion to play upon him.  As, for instance, Plato, the comic

poet, introduces a character, who questions him —

Tell me, if you please,

Since you're the Chiron who taught Pericles.

Pericles, also, was a hearer of Zeno, the Eleatic, who treated of

natural philosophy in the same manner as Parmenides did, but had also

perfected himself in an art of his own for refuting and silencing

opponents in argument; as Timon of Phlius describes it, —

Also the two-edged tongue of mighty Zeno, who,

Say what one would, could argue it untrue.

But he that saw most of Pericles, and furnished him most especially with

a weight and grandeur of sense, superior to all arts of popularity, and

in general gave him his elevation and sublimity of purpose and of

character, was Anaxagoras of Clazomenae; whom the men of those times

called by the name of Nous, that is, mind, or intelligence, whether in

admiration of the great and extraordinary gift he displayed for the

science of nature, or because that he was the first of the philosophers

who did not refer the first ordering of the world to fortune or chance,

nor to necessity or compulsion, but to a pure, unadulterated

intelligence, which in all other existing mixed and compound things acts

as a principle of discrimination, and of combination of like with like.

For this man, Pericles entertained an extraordinary esteem and

admiration, and, filling himself with this lofty, and, as they call it,

up-in-the-air sort of thought, derived hence not merely, as was natural,

elevation of purpose and dignity of language, raised far above the base

and dishonest buffooneries of mob-eloquence, but, besides this, a

composure of countenance, and a serenity and calmness in all his

movements, which no occurrence whilst he was speaking could disturb, a

sustained and even tone of voice, and various other advantages of a

similar kind, which produced the greatest effect on his hearers.  Once,

after being reviled and ill-spoken of all day long in his own hearing by

some vile and abandoned fellow in the open marketplace, where he was

engaged in the dispatch of some urgent affair, he continued his business

in perfect silence, and in the evening returned home composedly, the man

still dogging him at the heels, and pelting him all the way with abuse

and foul language; and stepping into his house, it being by this time

dark, he ordered one of his servants to take a light, and to go along

with the man and see him safe home.  Ion, it is true, the dramatic poet,

says that Pericles's manner in company was somewhat over-assuming and

pompous; and that into his high bearing there entered a good deal of

slightingness and scorn of others; he reserves his commendation for

Cimon's ease and pliancy and natural grace in society.  Ion, however,

who must needs make virtue, like a show of tragedies, include some comic

scenes, we shall not altogether rely upon; Zeno used to bid those who

called Pericles's gravity the affectation of a charlatan, to go and

affect the like themselves; inasmuch as this mere counterfeiting might

in time insensibly instill into them a real love and knowledge of those

noble qualities.

Nor were these the only advantages which Pericles derived from

Anaxagoras's acquaintance; he seems also to have become, by his

instructions, superior to that superstition with which an ignorant

wonder at appearances, for example, in the heavens possesses the minds

of people unacquainted with their causes, eager for the supernatural,

and excitable through an inexperience which the knowledge of natural

causes removes, replacing wild and timid superstition by the good hope

and assurance of an intelligent piety.

There is a story, that once Pericles had brought to him from a country

farm of his, a ram's head with one horn, and that Lampon, the diviner,

upon seeing the horn grow strong and solid out of the midst of the

forehead, gave it as his judgment, that, there being at that time two

potent factions, parties, or interests in the city, the one of

Thucydides and the other of Pericles, the government would come about to

that one of them in whose ground or estate this token or indication of

fate had shown itself.  But that Anaxagoras, cleaving the skull in

sunder, showed to the bystanders that the brain had not filled up its

natural place, but being oblong, like an egg, had collected from all

parts of the vessel which contained it, in a point to that place from

whence the root of the horn took its rise.  And that, for that time,

Anaxagoras was much admired for his explanation by those that were

present; and Lampon no less a little while after, when Thucydides was

overpowered, and the whole affairs of the state and government came into

the hands of Pericles.

And yet, in my opinion, it is no absurdity to say that they were both in

the right, both natural philosopher and diviner, one justly detecting

the cause of this event, by which it was produced, the other the end for

which it was designed.  For it was the business of the one to find out

and give an account of what it was made, and in what manner and by what

means it grew as it did; and of the other to foretell to what end and

purpose it was so made, and what it might mean or portend.  Those who

say that to find out the cause of a prodigy is in effect to destroy its

supposed signification as such, do not take notice that, at the same

time, together with divine prodigies, they also do away with signs and

signals of human art and concert, as, for instance, the clashings of

quoits, fire-beacons, and the shadows on sun-dials, every one of which

things has its cause, and by that cause and contrivance is a sign of

something else.  But these are subjects, perhaps, that would better

befit another place.

Pericles, while yet but a young man, stood in considerable apprehension

of the people, as he was thought in face and figure to be very like the

tyrant Pisistratus, and those of great age remarked upon the sweetness

of his voice, and his volubility and rapidity in speaking, and were

struck with amazement at the resemblance.  Reflecting, too, that he had

a considerable estate, and was descended of a noble family, and had

friends of great influence, he was fearful all this might bring him to

be banished as a dangerous person; and for this reason meddled not at

all with state affairs, but in military service showed himself of a

brave and intrepid nature.  But when Aristides was now dead, and

Themistocles driven out, and Cimon was for the most part kept abroad by

the expeditions he made in parts out of Greece, Pericles, seeing things

in this posture, now advanced and took his side, not with the rich and

few, but with the many and poor, contrary to his natural bent, which was

far from democratical; but, most likely, fearing he might fall under

suspicion of aiming at arbitrary power, and seeing Cimon on the side of

the aristocracy, and much beloved by the better and more distinguished

people, he joined the party of the people, with a view at once both to

secure himself and procure means against Cimon.

He immediately entered, also, on quite a new course of life and

management of his time.  For he was never seen to walk in any street but

that which led to the marketplace and the council-hall, and he avoided

invitations of friends to supper, and all friendly visiting and

intercourse whatever; in all the time he had to do with the public,

which was not a little, he was never known to have gone to any of his

friends to a supper, except that once when his near kinsman Euryptolemus

married, he remained present till the ceremony of the drink-offering,

and then immediately rose from table and went his way.  For these

friendly meetings are very quick to defeat any assumed superiority, and

in intimate familiarity an exterior of gravity is hard to maintain.

Real excellence, indeed, is most recognized when most openly looked

into; and in really good men, nothing which meets the eyes of external

observers so truly deserves their admiration, as their daily common life

does that of their nearer friends.  Pericles, however, to avoid any

feeling of commonness, or any satiety on the part of the people,

presented himself at intervals only, not speaking to every business, nor

at all times coming into the assembly, but, as Critolaus says, reserving

himself, like the Salaminian galley, for great occasions, while matters

of lesser importance were dispatched by friends or other speakers under

his direction.  And of this number we are told Ephialtes made one, who

broke the power of the council of Areopagus, giving the people,

according to Plato's expression, so copious and so strong a draught of

liberty, that, growing wild and unruly, like an unmanageable horse, it,

as the comic poets say, —

" — got beyond all keeping in,

Champing at Euboea, and among the islands leaping in."

The style of speaking most consonant to his form of life and the dignity

of his views he found, so to say, in the tones of that instrument with

which Anaxagoras had furnished him; of his teaching he continually

availed himself, and deepened the colors of rhetoric with the dye of

natural science.  For having, in addition to his great natural genius,

attained, by the study of nature, to use the words of the divine Plato,

this height of intelligence, and this universal consummating power, and

drawing hence whatever might be of advantage to him in the art of

speaking, he showed himself far superior to all others.  Upon which

account, they say, he had his nickname given him, though some are of

opinion he was named the Olympian from the public buildings with which

he adorned the city; and others again, from his great power in public

affairs, whether of war or peace.  Nor is it unlikely that the

confluence of many attributes may have conferred it on him.  However,

the comedies represented at the time, which, both in good earnest and in

merriment, let fly many hard words at him, plainly show that he got that

appellation especially from his speaking; they speak of his "thundering

and lightning" when he harangued the people, and of his wielding a

dreadful thunderbolt in his tongue.

A saying also of Thucydides, the son of Melesias, stands on record,

spoken by him by way of pleasantry upon Pericles's dexterity.

Thucydides was one of the noble and distinguished citizens, and had been

his greatest opponent; and, when Archidamus, the king of the

Lacedaemonians, asked him whether he or Pericles were the better

wrestler, he made this answer:  "When I," said he, "have thrown him and

given him a fair fall, by persisting that he had no fall, he gets the

better of me, and makes the bystanders, in spite of their own eyes,

believe him."  The truth, however, is, that Pericles himself was very

careful what and how he was to speak, insomuch that, whenever he went up

to the hustings, he prayed the gods that no one word might unawares slip

from him unsuitable to the matter and the occasion.

He has left nothing in writing behind him, except some decrees; and

there are but very few of his sayings recorded; one, for example, is,

that he said Aegina must, like a gathering in a man's eye, be removed

from Piraeus; and another, that he said he saw already war moving on its

way towards them out of Peloponnesus.  Again, when on a time Sophocles,

who was his fellow-commissioner in the generalship, was going on board

with him, and praised the beauty of a youth they met with in the way to

the ship, "Sophocles," said he, "a general ought not only to have clean

hands, but also clean eyes."  And Stesimbrotus tells us, that, in his

encomium on those who fell in battle at Samos, he said they were become

immortal, as the gods were.  "For," said he, "we do not see them

themselves, but only by the honors we pay them, and by the benefits they

do us, attribute to them immortality; and the like attributes belong

also to those that die in the service of their country."

Since Thucydides describes the rule of Pericles as an aristocratical

government, that went by the name of a democracy, but was, indeed, the

supremacy of a single great man, while many others say, on the contrary,

that by him the common people were first encouraged and led on to such

evils as appropriations of subject territory; allowances for attending

theaters, payments for performing public duties, and by these bad habits

were, under the influence of his public measures, changed from a sober,

thrifty people, that maintained themselves by their own labors, to

lovers of expense, intemperance, and license, let us examine the cause

of this change by the actual matters of fact.

At the first, as has been said, when he set himself against Cimon's

great authority, he did caress the people.  Finding himself come short of

his competitor in wealth and money, by which advantages the other was

enabled to take care of the poor, inviting every day some one or other

of the citizens that was in want to supper, and bestowing clothes on the

aged people, and breaking down the hedges and enclosures of his grounds,

that all that would might freely gather what fruit they pleased,

Pericles, thus outdone in popular arts, by the advice of one Damonides

of Oea, as Aristotle states, turned to the distribution of the public

moneys; and in a short time having bought the people over, what with

moneys allowed for shows and for service on juries, and what with other

forms of pay and largess, he made use of them against the council of

Areopagus, of which he himself was no member, as having never been

appointed by lot either chief archon, or lawgiver, or king, or captain.

For from of old these offices were conferred on persons by lot, and they

who had acquitted themselves duly in the discharge of them were advanced

to the court of Areopagus.  And so Pericles, having secured his power

and interest with the populace, directed the exertions of his party

against this council with such success, that most of those causes and

matters which had been used to be tried there, were, by the agency of

Ephialtes, removed from its cognizance, Cimon, also, was banished by

ostracism as a favorer of the Lacedaemonians and a hater of the people,

though in wealth and noble birth he was among the first, and had won

several most glorious victories over the barbarians, and had filled the

city with money and spoils of war; as is recorded in the history of his

life.  So vast an authority had Pericles obtained among the people.

The ostracism was limited by law to ten years; but the Lacedaemonians,

in the mean time, entering with a great army into the territory of

Tanagra, and the Athenians going out against them, Cimon, coming from

his banishment before his time was out, put himself in arms and array

with those of his fellow-citizens that were of his own tribe, and

desired by his deeds to wipe off the suspicion of his favoring the

Lacedaemonians, by venturing his own person along with his country-men.

But Pericles's friends, gathering in a body, forced him to retire as a

banished man.  For which cause also Pericles seems to have exerted

himself more in that than in any battle, and to have been conspicuous

above all for his exposure of himself to danger.  All Cimon's friends,

also, to a man, fell together side by side, whom Pericles had accused

with him of taking part with the Lacedaemonians.  Defeated in this

battle on their own frontiers, and expecting a new and perilous attack

with return of spring, the Athenians now felt regret and sorrow for the

loss of Cimon, and repentance for their expulsion of him.  Pericles,

being sensible of their feelings, did not hesitate or delay to gratify

it, and himself made the motion for recalling him home.  He, upon his

return, concluded a peace betwixt the two cities; for the Lacedaemonians

entertained as kindly feelings towards him as they did the reverse

towards Pericles and the other popular leaders.

Yet some there are who say that Pericles did not propose the order for

Cimon's return till some private articles of agreement had been made

between them, and this by means of Elpinice, Cimon's sister; that Cimon,

namely, should go out to sea with a fleet of two hundred ships, and be

commander-in-chief abroad, with a design to reduce the king of Persia's

territories, and that Pericles should have the power at home.

This Elpinice, it was thought, had before this time procured some

favor for her brother Cimon at Pericles's hands, and induced him to be

more remiss and gentle in urging the charge when Cimon was tried for his

life; for Pericles was one of the committee appointed by the commons to

plead against him.  And when Elpinice came and besought him in her

brother's behalf, he answered, with a smile, "O Elpinice, you are too

old a woman to undertake such business as this."  But, when he appeared

to impeach him, he stood up but once to speak, merely to acquit himself

of his commission, and went out of court, having done Cimon the least

prejudice of any of his accusers.

How, then, can one believe Idomeneus, who charges Pericles as if he had

by treachery procured the murder of Ephialtes, the popular statesman,

one who was his friend, and of his own party in all his political

course, out of jealousy, forsooth, and envy of his great reputation?

This historian, it seems, having raked up these stories, I know not

whence, has befouled with them a man who, perchance, was not altogether

free from fault or blame, but yet had a noble spirit, and a soul that

was bent on honor; and where such qualities are, there can no such cruel

and brutal passion find harbor or gain admittance.  As to Ephialtes, the

truth of the story, as Aristotle has told it, is this:  that having made

himself formidable to the oligarchical party, by being an

uncompromising asserter of the people's rights in calling to account and

prosecuting those who any way wronged them, his enemies, lying in wait

for him, by the means of Aristodicus the Tanagraean, privately

dispatched him.

Cimon, while he was admiral, ended his days in the Isle of Cyprus.  And

the aristocratical party, seeing that Pericles was already before this

grown to be the greatest and foremost man of all the city, but

nevertheless wishing there should be somebody set up against him, to

blunt and turn the edge of his power, that it might not altogether prove

a monarchy, put forward Thucydides of Alopece, a discreet person, and a

near kinsman of Cimon's, to conduct the opposition against him; who,

indeed, though less skilled in warlike affairs than Cimon was, yet was

better versed in speaking and political business, and keeping close

guard in the city, and engaging with Pericles on the hustings, in a

short time brought the government to an equality of parties.  For he

would not suffer those who were called the honest and good (persons of

worth and distinction) to be scattered up and down and mix themselves

and be lost among the populace, as formerly, diminishing and obscuring

their superiority amongst the masses; but taking them apart by

themselves and uniting them in one body, by their combined weight he was

able, as it were upon the balance, to make a counter-poise to the other

party.

For, indeed, there was from the beginning a sort of concealed split, or

seam, as it might be in a piece of iron, marking the different popular

and aristocratical tendencies; but the open rivalry and contention of

these two opponents made the gash deep, and severed the city into the

two parties of the people and the few.  And so Pericles, at that time

more than at any other, let loose the reins to the people, and made his

policy subservient to their pleasure, contriving continually to have

some great public show or solemnity, some banquet, or some procession or

other in the town to please them, coaxing his countrymen like children,

with such delights and pleasures as were not, however, unedifying.

Besides that every year he sent out threescore galleys, on board of

which there went numbers of the citizens, who were in pay eight months,

learning at the same time and practicing the art of seamanship.

He sent, moreover, a thousand of them into the Chersonese as planters,

to share the land among them by lot, and five hundred more into the isle

of Naxos, and half that number to Andros, a thousand into Thrace to

dwell among the Bisaltae, and others into Italy, when the city Sybaris,

which now was called Thurii, was to be repeopled.  And this he did to

ease and discharge the city of an idle, and, by reason of their

idleness, a busy, meddling crowd of people; and at the same time to meet

the necessities and restore the fortunes of the poor townsmen, and to

intimidate, also, and check their allies from attempting any change, by

posting such garrisons, as it were, in the midst of them.

That which gave most pleasure and ornament to the city of Athens, and

the greatest admiration and even astonishment to all strangers, and that

which now is Greece's only evidence that the power she boasts of and her

ancient wealth are no romance or idle story, was his construction of the

public and sacred buildings.  Yet this was that of all his actions in

the government which his enemies most looked askance upon and caviled at

in the popular assemblies, crying out how that the commonwealth of

Athens had lost its reputation and was ill-spoken of abroad for removing

the common treasure of the Greeks from the isle of Delos into their own

custody; and how that their fairest excuse for so doing, namely, that

they took it away for fear the barbarians should seize it, and on

purpose to secure it in a safe place, this Pericles had made

unavailable, and how that "Greece cannot but resent it as an

insufferable affront, and consider herself to be tyrannized over openly,

when she sees the treasure, which was contributed by her upon a

necessity for the war, wantonly lavished out by us upon our city, to

gild her all over, and to adorn and set her forth, as it were some vain

woman, hung round with precious stones and figures and temples, which

cost a world of money."

Pericles, on the other hand, informed the people, that they were in no

way obliged to give any account of those moneys to their allies, so long

as they maintained their defense, and kept off the barbarians from

attacking them; while in the meantime they did not so much as supply

one horse or man or ship, but only found money for the service; "which

money," said he, "is not theirs that give it, but theirs that receive

it, if so be they perform the conditions upon which they receive it."

And that it was good reason, that, now the city was sufficiently

provided and stored with all things necessary for the war, they should

convert the overplus of its wealth to such undertakings, as would

hereafter, when completed, give them eternal honor, and, for the

present, while in process, freely supply all the inhabitants with

plenty.  With their variety of workmanship and of occasions for service,

which summon all arts and trades and require all hands to be employed

about them, they do actually put the whole city, in a manner, into

state-pay; while at the same time she is both beautified and maintained

by herself.  For as those who are of age and strength for war are

provided for and maintained in the armaments abroad by their pay out of

the public stock, so, it being his desire and design that the

undisciplined mechanic multitude that stayed at home should not go

without their share of public salaries, and yet should not have them

given them for sitting still and doing nothing, to that end he thought

fit to bring in among them, with the approbation of the people, these

vast projects of buildings and designs of works, that would be of some

continuance before they were finished, and would give employment to

numerous arts, so that the part of the people that stayed at home might,

no less than those that were at sea or in garrisons or on expeditions,

have a fair and just occasion of receiving the benefit and having their

share of the public moneys.

The materials were stone, brass, ivory, gold, ebony cypress-wood; and

the arts or trades that wrought and fashioned them were smiths and

carpenters, molders, founders and braziers, stone-cutters, dyers,

goldsmiths, ivory-workers, painters, embroiderers, turners; those again

that conveyed them to the town for use, merchants and mariners and ship-

masters by sea, and by land, cartwrights, cattle-breeders, waggoners,

rope-makers, flax-workers, shoe-makers and leather-dressers, roadmakers,

miners.  And every trade in the same nature, as a captain in an army has

his particular company of soldiers under him, had its own hired company

of journeymen and laborers belonging to it banded together as in array,

to be as it were the instrument and body for the performance of the

service.  Thus, to say all in a word, the occasions and services of

these public works distributed plenty through every age and condition.

As then grew the works up, no less stately in size than exquisite in

form, the workmen striving to outvie the material and the design with

the beauty of their workmanship, yet the most wonderful thing of all was

the rapidity of their execution.  Undertakings, any one of which singly

might have required, they thought, for their completion, several

successions and ages of men, were every one of them accomplished in the

height and prime of one man's political service.  Although they say,

too, that Zeuxis once, having heard Agatharchus the painter boast of

dispatching his work with speed and ease, replied, "I take a long time."

For ease and speed in doing a thing do not give the work lasting

solidity or exactness of beauty; the expenditure of time allowed to a

man's pains beforehand for the production of a thing is repaid by way of

interest with a vital force for its preservation when once produced.

For which reason Pericles's works are especially admired, as having been

made quickly, to last long.  For every particular piece of his work was

immediately, even at that time, for its beauty and elegance, antique;

and yet in its vigor and freshness looks to this day as if it were just

executed.  There is a sort of bloom of newness upon those works of his,

preserving them from the touch of time, as if they had some perennial

spirit and undying vitality mingled in the composition of them.

Phidias had the oversight of all the works, and was surveyor-general,

though upon the various portions other great masters and workmen were

employed.  For Callicrates and Ictinus built the Parthenon; the chapel

at Eleusis, where the mysteries were celebrated, was begun by Coroebus,

who erected the pillars that stand upon the floor or pavement, and

joined them to the architraves; and after his death Metagenes of Xypete

added the frieze and the upper line of columns; Xenocles of Cholargus

roofed or arched the lantern on the top of the temple of Castor and

Pollux; and the long wall, which Socrates says he himself heard Pericles

propose to the people, was undertaken by Callicrates.  This work

Cratinus ridicules, as long in finishing, —

'Tis long since Pericles, if words would do it,

Talk'd up the wall; yet adds not one mite to it.

The Odeum, or music-room, which in its interior was full of seats and

ranges of pillars, and outside had its roof made to slope and descend

from one single point at the top, was constructed, we are told, in

imitation of the king of Persia's Pavilion; this likewise by Pericles's

order; which Cratinus again, in his comedy called The Thracian Women,

made an occasion of raillery, —

So, we see here,

Jupiter Long-pate Pericles appear,

Since ostracism time, he's laid aside his head,

And wears the new Odeum in its stead.

Pericles, also, eager for distinction, then first obtained the decree

for a contest in musical skill to be held yearly at the Panathenaea, and

he himself, being chosen judge, arranged the order and method in which

the competitors should sing and play on the flute and on the harp.  And

both at that time, and at other times also, they sat in this music-room

to see and hear all such trials of skill.

The propylaea, or entrances to the Acropolis, were finished in five

years' time, Mnesicles being the principal architect.  A strange

accident happened in the course of building, which showed that the

goddess was not averse to the work, but was aiding and cooperating to

bring it to perfection.  One of the artificers, the quickest and the

handiest workman among them all, with a slip of his foot fell down from

a great height, and lay in a miserable condition, the physicians having

no hopes of his recovery.  When Pericles was in distress about this,

Minerva appeared to him at night in a dream, and ordered a course of

treatment, which he applied, and in a short time and with great ease

cured the man.  And upon this occasion it was that he set up a brass

statue of Minerva, surnamed Health, in the citadel near the altar, which

they say was there before.  But it was Phidias who wrought the goddess's

image in gold, and he has his name inscribed on the pedestal as the

workman of it; and indeed the whole work in a manner was under his

charge, and he had, as we have said already, the oversight over all the

artists and workmen, through Pericles's friendship for him; and this,

indeed, made him much envied, and his patron shamefully slandered with

stories, as if Phidias were in the habit of receiving, for Pericles's

use, freeborn women that came to see the works.  The comic writers of

the town, when they had got hold of this story, made much of it, and

bespattered him with all the ribaldry they could invent, charging him

falsely with the wife of Menippus, one who was his friend and served as

lieutenant under him in the wars; and with the birds kept by Pyrilampes,

an acquaintance of Pericles, who, they pretended, used to give presents

of peacocks to Pericles's female friends.  And how can one wonder at any

number of strange assertions from men whose whole lives were devoted to

mockery, and who were ready at any time to sacrifice the reputation of

their superiors to vulgar envy and spite, as to some evil genius, when

even Stesimbrotus the Thasian has dared to lay to the charge of Pericles

a monstrous and fabulous piece of criminality with his son's wife?  So

very difficult a matter is it to trace and find out the truth of

anything by history, when, on the one hand, those who afterwards write

it find long periods of time intercepting their view, and, on the other

hand, the contemporary records of any actions and lives, partly through

envy and ill-will, partly through favor and flattery, pervert and

distort truth.

When the orators, who sided with Thucydides and his party, were at one

time crying out, as their custom was, against Pericles, as one who

squandered away the public money, and made havoc of the state revenues,

he rose in the open assembly and put the question to the people, whether

they thought that he had laid out much; and they saying, "Too much, a

great deal."  "Then," said he, "since it is so, let the cost not go to

your account, but to mine; and let the inscription upon the buildings

stand in my name."  When they heard him say thus, whether it were out of

a surprise to see the greatness of his spirit, or out of emulation of

the glory of the works, they cried aloud, bidding him to spend on, and

lay out what he thought fit from the public purse, and to spare no cost,

till all were finished.

At length, coming to a final contest with Thucydides, which of the two

should ostracize the other out of the country, and having gone through

this peril, he threw his antagonist out, and broke up the confederacy

that had been organized against him.  So that now all schism and

division being at an end, and the city brought to evenness and unity, he

got all Athens and all affairs that pertained to the Athenians into his

own hands, their tributes, their armies, and their galleys, the islands,

the sea, and their wide-extended power, partly over other Greeks and

partly over barbarians, and all that empire, which they possessed,

founded and fortified upon subject nations and royal friendships and

alliances.

After this he was no longer the same man he had been before, nor as tame

and gentle and familiar as formerly with the populace, so as readily to

yield to their pleasures and to comply with the desires of the

multitude, as a steersman shifts with the winds.  Quitting that loose,

remiss, and, in some cases, licentious court of the popular will, he

turned those soft and flowery modulations to the austerity of

aristocratical and regal rule; and employing this uprightly and

undeviatingly for the country's best interests, he was able generally to

lead the people along, with their own wills and consents, by persuading

and showing them what was to be done; and sometimes, too, urging and

pressing them forward extremely against their will, he made them,

whether they would or no, yield submission to what was for their

advantage.  In which, to say the truth, he did but like a skillful

physician, who, in a complicated and chronic disease, as he sees

occasion, at one while allows his patient the moderate use of such

things as please him, at another while gives him keen pains and drugs to

work the cure.  For there arising and growing up, as was natural, all

manner of distempered feelings among a people which had so vast a

command and dominion, he alone, as a great master, knowing how to handle

and deal fitly with each one of them, and, in an especial manner, making

that use of hopes and fears, as his two chief rudders, with the one to

check the career of their confidence at any time, with the other to

raise them up and cheer them when under any discouragement, plainly

showed by this, that rhetoric, or the art of speaking, is, in Plato's

language, the government of the souls of men, and that her chief

business is to address the affections and passions, which are as it were

the strings and keys to the soul, and require a skillful and careful

touch to be played on as they should be.  The source of this

predominance was not barely his power of language, but, as Thucydides

assures us, the reputation of his life, and the confidence felt in his

character; his manifest freedom from every kind of corruption, and

superiority to all considerations of money.  Notwithstanding he had made

the city Athens, which was great of itself, as great and rich as can be

imagined, and though he were himself in power and interest more than

equal to many kings and absolute rulers, who some of them also

bequeathed by will their power to their children, he, for his part, did

not make the patrimony his father left him greater than it was by one

drachma.

Thucydides, indeed, gives a plain statement of the greatness of his

power; and the comic poets, in their spiteful manner, more than hint at

it, styling his companions and friends the new Pisistratidae, and

calling on him to abjure any intention of usurpation, as one whose

eminence was too great to be any longer proportionable to and compatible

with a democracy or popular government.  And Teleclides says the

Athenians had surrendered up to him —

The tribute of the cities, and with them, the cities too, to do with

them as he pleases, and undo;

To build up, if he likes, stone walls around a town; and again, if so he

likes, to pull them down;

Their treaties and alliances, power, empire, peace, and war, their

wealth and their success forevermore.

Nor was all this the luck of some happy occasion; nor was it the mere

bloom and grace of a policy that flourished for a season; but having for

forty years together maintained the first place among statesmen such as

Ephialtes and Leocrates and Myronides and Cimon and Tolmides and

Thucydides were, after the defeat and banishment of Thucydides, for no

less than fifteen years longer, in the exercise of one continuous

unintermitted command in the office, to which he was annually reelected,

of General, he preserved his integrity unspotted; though otherwise he

was not altogether idle or careless in looking after his pecuniary

advantage; his paternal estate, which of right belonged to him, he so

ordered that it might neither through negligence be wasted or lessened,

nor yet, being so full of business as he was, cost him any great trouble

or time with taking care of it; and put it into such a way of management

as he thought to be the most easy for himself, and the most exact.  All

his yearly products and profits he sold together in a lump, and supplied

his household needs afterward by buying everything that he or his

family wanted out of the market.  Upon which account, his children, when

they grew to age, were not well pleased with his management, and the

women that lived with him were treated with little cost, and complained

of this way of housekeeping, where everything was ordered and set down

from day to day, and reduced to the greatest exactness; since there was

not there, as is usual in a great family and a plentiful estate, any

thing to spare, or over and above; but all that went out or came in, all

disbursements and all receipts, proceeded as it were by number and

measure.  His manager in all this was a single servant, Evangelus by

name, a man either naturally gifted or instructed by Pericles so as to

excel every one in this art of domestic economy.

All this, in truth, was very little in harmony with Anaxagoras's wisdom;

if, indeed, it be true that he, by a kind of divine impulse and

greatness of spirit, voluntarily quitted his house, and left his land to

lie fallow and to be grazed by sheep like a common.  But the life of a

contemplative philosopher and that of an active statesman are, I

presume, not the same thing; for the one merely employs, upon great and

good objects of thought, an intelligence that requires no aid of

instruments nor supply of any external materials; whereas the other, who

tempers and applies his virtue to human uses, may have occasion for

affluence, not as a matter of mere necessity, but as a noble thing;

which was Pericles's case, who relieved numerous poor citizens.

However, there is a story, that Anaxagoras himself, while Pericles was

taken up with public affairs, lay neglected, and that, now being grown

old, he wrapped himself up with a resolution to die for want of food;

which being by chance brought to Pericles's ear, he was horror-struck,

and instantly ran thither, and used all the arguments and entreaties he

could to him, lamenting not so much Anaxagoras's condition as his own,

should he lose such a counselor as he had found him to be; and that,

upon this, Anaxagoras unfolded his robe, and showing himself, made

answer:  "Pericles," said he, "even those who have occasion for a lamp

supply it with oil."

The Lacedaemonians beginning to show themselves troubled at the growth

of the Athenian power, Pericles, on the other hand, to elevate the

people's spirit yet more, and to raise them to the thought of great

actions, proposed a decree, to summon all the Greeks in what part

soever, whether of Europe or Asia, every city, little as well as great,

to send their deputies to Athens to a general assembly, or convention,

there to consult and advise concerning the Greek temples which the

barbarians had burnt down, and the sacrifices which were due from them

upon vows they had made to their gods for the safety of Greece when they

fought against the barbarians; and also concerning the navigation of the

sea, that they might henceforward all of them pass to and fro and trade

securely, and be at peace among themselves.

Upon this errand, there were twenty men, of such as were above fifty

years of age, sent by commission; five to summon the Ionians and Dorians

in Asia, and the islanders as far as Lesbos and Rhodes; five to visit

all the places in the Hellespont and Thrace, up to Byzantium; and other

five besides these to go to Boeotia and Phocis and Peloponnesus, and

from hence to pass through the Locrians over to the neighboring

continent, as far as Acarnania and Ambracia; and the rest to take their

course through Euboea to the Oetaeans and the Malian Gulf, and to the

Achaeans of Phthiotis and the Thessalians; all of them to treat with the

people as they passed, and to persuade them to come and take their part

in the debates for settling the peace and jointly regulating the affairs

of Greece.

Nothing was effected, nor did the cities meet by their deputies, as was

desired; the Lacedaemonians, as it is said, crossing the design

underhand, and the attempt being disappointed and baffled first in

Peloponnesus.  I thought fit, however, to introduce the mention of it,

to show the spirit of the man and the greatness of his thoughts.

In his military conduct, he gained a great reputation for wariness; he

would not by his good-will engage in any fight which had much

uncertainty or hazard; he did not envy the glory of generals whose rash

adventures fortune favored with brilliant success, however they were

admired by others; nor did he think them worthy his imitation, but

always used to say to his citizens that, so far as lay in his power,

they should continue immortal, and live forever.  Seeing Tolmides, the

son of Tolmaeus, upon the confidence of his former successes, and

flushed with the honor his military actions had procured him, making

preparation to attack the Boeotians in their own country, when there was

no likely opportunity, and that he had prevailed with the bravest and

most enterprising of the youth to enlist themselves as volunteers in the

service, who besides his other force made up a thousand, he endeavored

to withhold him and to advise him from it in the public assembly,

telling him in a memorable saying of his, which still goes about, that,

if he would not take Pericles's advice, yet he would not do amiss to

wait and be ruled by time, the wisest counselor of all.  This saying, at

that time, was but slightly commended; but within a few days after, when

news was brought that Tolmides himself had been defeated and slain in

battle near Coronea, and that many brave citizens had fallen with him,

it gained him great repute as well as good-will among the people, for

wisdom and for love of his countrymen.

But of all his expeditions, that to the Chersonese gave most

satisfaction and pleasure, having proved the safety of the Greeks who

inhabited there.  For not only by carrying along with him a thousand

fresh citizens of Athens he gave new strength and vigor to the cities,

but also by belting the neck of land, which joins the peninsula to the

continent, with bulwarks and forts from sea to sea, he put a stop to the

inroads of the Thracians, who lay all about the Chersonese, and closed

the door against a continual and grievous war, with which that country

had been long harassed, lying exposed to the encroachments and influx of

barbarous neighbors, and groaning under the evils of a predatory

population both upon and within its borders.

Nor was he less admired and talked of abroad for his sailing round the

Peloponnesus, having set out from Pegae, or The Fountains, the port of

Megara, with a hundred galleys.  For he not only laid waste the sea-

coast, as Tolmides had done before, but also, advancing far up into main

land with the soldiers he had on board, by the terror of his appearance

drove many within their walls; and at Nemea, with main force, routed and

raised a trophy over the Sicyonians, who stood their ground and joined

battle with him.  And having taken on board a supply of soldiers into

the galleys, out of Achaia, then in league with Athens he crossed with

the fleet to the opposite continent, and, sailing along by the mouth of

the river Achelous overran Acarnania, and shut up the Oeniadae within

their city walls, and having ravaged and wasted their country, weighed

anchor for home with the double advantage of having shown himself

formidable to his enemies, and at the same time safe and energetic to

his fellow-citizens; for there was not so much as any chance-miscarriage

that happened, the whole voyage through, to those who were under his

charge.

Entering also the Euxine Sea with a large and finely equipped fleet, he

obtained for the Greek cities any new arrangements they wanted, and

entered into friendly relations with them; and to the barbarous nations,

and kings and chiefs round about them, displayed the greatness of the

power of the Athenians, their perfect ability and confidence to sail

wherever they had a mind, and to bring the whole sea under their

control.  He left the Sinopians thirteen ships of war, with soldiers

under the command of Lamachus, to assist them against Timesileus the

tyrant; and when he and his accomplices had been thrown out, obtained a

decree that six hundred of the Athenians that were willing should sail

to Sinope and plant themselves there with the Sinopians, sharing among

them the houses and land which the tyrant and his party had previously

held.

But in other things he did not comply with the giddy impulses of the

citizens, nor quit his own resolutions to follow their fancies, when,

carried away with the thought of their strength and great success, they

were eager to interfere again in Egypt, and to disturb the king of

Persia's maritime dominions.  Nay, there were a good many who were, even

then, possessed with that unblessed and inauspicious passion for Sicily,

which afterward the orators of Alcibiades's party blew up into a flame.

There were some also who dreamt of Tuscany and of Carthage, and not

without plausible reason in their present large dominion and the

prosperous course of their affairs.

But Pericles curbed this passion for foreign conquest, and unsparingly

pruned and cut down their ever busy fancies for a multitude of

undertakings; and directed their power for the most part to securing and

consolidating what they had already got, supposing it would be quite

enough for them to do, if they could keep the Lacedaemonians in check;

to whom he entertained all along a sense of opposition; which, as upon

many other occasions, so he particularly showed by what he did in the

time of the holy war.  The Lacedaemonians, having gone with an army to

Delphi, restored Apollo's temple, which the Phocians had got into their

possession, to the Delphians; immediately after their departure,

Pericles, with another army, came and restored the Phocians.  And the

Lacedaemonians having engraven the record of their privilege of

consulting the oracle before others, which the Delphians gave them, upon

the forehead of the brazen wolf which stands there, he, also, having

received from the Phocians the like privilege for the Athenians, had it

cut upon the same wolf of brass on his right side.

That he did well and wisely in thus restraining the exertions of the

Athenians within the compass of Greece, the events themselves that

happened afterward bore sufficient witness.  For, in the first place,

the Euboeans revolted, against whom he passed over with forces; and

then, immediately after, news came that the Megarians were turned their

enemies, and a hostile army was upon the borders of Attica, under the

conduct of Plistoanax, king of the Lacedaemonians.  Wherefore Pericles

came with his army back again in all haste out of Euboea, to meet the

war which threatened at home; and did not venture to engage a numerous

and brave army eager for battle; but perceiving that Plistoanax was a

very young man, and governed himself mostly by the counsel and advice of

Cleandrides, whom the ephors had sent with him, by reason of his youth,

to be a kind of guardian and assistant to him, he privately made trial

of this man's integrity, and, in a short time, having corrupted him with

money, prevailed with him to withdraw the Peloponnesians out of Attica.

When the army had retired and dispersed into their several states, the

Lacedaemonians in anger fined their king in so large a sum of money,

that, unable to pay it, he quitted Lacedaemon; while Cleandrides fled,

and had sentence of death passed upon him in his absence.  This was the

father of Gylippus, who overpowered the Athenians in Sicily.  And it

seems that this covetousness was an hereditary disease transmitted from

father to son; for Gylippus also afterwards was caught in foul

practices, and expelled from Sparta for it.  But this we have told at

large in the account of Lysander.

When Pericles, in giving up his accounts of this expedition, stated a

disbursement of ten talents, as laid out upon fit occasion, the people,

without any question, nor troubling themselves to investigate the

mystery, freely allowed of it.  And some historians, in which number is

Theophrastus the philosopher, have given it as a truth that Pericles

every year used to send privately the sum of ten talents to Sparta, with

which he complimented those in office, to keep off the war; not to

purchase peace neither, but time, that he might prepare at leisure, and

be the better able to carry on war hereafter.

Immediately after this, turning his forces against the revolters, and

passing over into the island of Euboea with fifty sail of ships and five

thousand men in arms, he reduced their cities, and drove out the

citizens of the Chalcidians, called Hippobotae, horse-feeders, the

chief persons for wealth and reputation among them; and removing all the

Histiaeans out of the country, brought in a plantation of Athenians in

their room; making them his one example of severity, because they had

captured an Attic ship and killed all on board.

After this, having made a truce between the Athenians and Lacedaemonians

for thirty years, he ordered, by public decree, the expedition against

the Isle of Samos, on the ground, that, when they were bid to leave off

their war with the Milesians, they had not complied.  And as these

measures against the Samians are thought to have been taken to please

Aspasia, this may be a fit point for inquiry about the woman, what art

or charming faculty she had that enabled her to captivate, as she did,

the greatest statesmen, and to give the philosophers occasion to speak

so much about her, and that, too, not to her disparagement.  That she

was a Milesian by birth, the daughter of Axiochus, is a thing

acknowledged.  And they say it was in emulation of Thargelia, a

courtesan of the old Ionian times, that she made her addresses to men of

great power.  Thargelia was a great beauty, extremely charming, and at

the same time sagacious; she had numerous suitors among the Greeks, and

brought all who had to do with her over to the Persian interest, and by

their means, being men of the greatest power and station, sowed the

seeds of the Median faction up and down in several cities.  Aspasia,

some say, was courted and caressed by Pericles upon account of her

knowledge and skill in politics.  Socrates himself would sometimes go to

visit her, and some of his acquaintance with him; and those who

frequented her company would carry their wives with them to listen to

her.  Her occupation was any thing but creditable, her house being a

home for young courtesans.  Aeschines tells us also, that Lysicles, a

sheep-dealer, a man of low birth and character, by keeping Aspasia

company after Pericles's death, came to be a chief man in Athens.  And

in Plato's Menexenus, though we do not take the introduction as quite

serious, still thus much seems to be historical, that she had the repute

of being resorted to by many of the Athenians for instruction in the art

of speaking.  Pericles's inclination for her seems, however, to have

rather proceeded from the passion of love.  He had a wife that was near

of kin to him, who had been married first to Hipponicus, by whom she had

Callias, surnamed the Rich; and also she brought Pericles, while she

lived with him, two sons, Xanthippus and Paralus.  Afterwards, when they

did not well agree nor like to live together, he parted with her, with

her own consent, to another man, and himself took Aspasia, and loved her

with wonderful affection; every day, both as he went out and as he came

in from the marketplace, he saluted and kissed her.

In the comedies she goes by the nicknames of the new Omphale and

Deianira, and again is styled Juno.  Cratinus, in downright terms, calls

her a harlot.

To find him a Juno the goddess of lust

Bore that harlot past shame,

Aspasia by name.

It should seem, also, that he had a son by her; Eupolis, in his Demi,

introduced Pericles asking after his safety, and Myronides replying,

"My son?"  "He lives; a man he had been long,

But that the harlot-mother did him wrong."

Aspasia, they say, became so celebrated and renowned, that Cyrus also,

who made war against Artaxerxes for the Persian monarchy, gave her whom

he loved the best of all his concubines the name of Aspasia, who before

that was called Milto.  She was a Phocaean by birth, the daughter of one

Hermotimus, and, when Cyrus fell in battle, was carried to the king, and

had great influence at court.  These things coming into my memory as I

am writing this story, it would be unnatural for me to omit them.

Pericles, however, was particularly charged with having proposed to the

assembly the war against the Samians, from favor to the Milesians, upon

the entreaty of Aspasia.  For the two states were at war for the

possession of Priene; and the Samians, getting the better, refused to

lay down their arms and to have the controversy betwixt them decided by

arbitration before the Athenians.  Pericles, therefore, fitting out a

fleet, went and broke up the oligarchical government at Samos, and,

taking fifty of the principal men of the town as hostages, and as many

of their children, sent them to the isle of Lemnos, there to be kept,

though he had offers, as some relate, of a talent a piece for himself

from each one of the hostages, and of many other presents from those who

were anxious not to have a democracy.  Moreover, Pissuthnes the Persian,

one of the king's lieutenants, bearing some good-will to the Samians,

sent him ten thousand pieces of gold to excuse the city.  Pericles,

however, would receive none of all this; but after he had taken that

course with the Samians which he thought fit, and set up a democracy

among them, sailed back to Athens.

But they, however, immediately revolted, Pissuthnes having privily got

away their hostages for them, and provided them with means for the war.

Whereupon Pericles came out with a fleet a second time against them, and

found them not idle nor slinking away, but manfully resolved to try for

the dominion of the sea.  The issue was, that, after a sharp sea-fight

about the island called Tragia, Pericles obtained a decisive victory,

having with forty-four ships routed seventy of the enemy's, twenty of

which were carrying soldiers.

Together with his victory and pursuit, having made himself master of the

port, he laid siege to the Samians, and blocked them up, who yet, one

way or other, still ventured to make sallies, and fight under the city

walls.  But after that another greater fleet from Athens was arrived,

and that the Samians were now shut up with a close leaguer on every

side, Pericles, taking with him sixty galleys, sailed out into the main

sea, with the intention, as most authors give the account, to meet a

squadron of Phoenician ships that were coming for the Samians' relief,

and to fight them at as great distance as could be from the island;

but, as Stesimbrotus says, with a design of putting over to Cyprus;

which does not seem to be probable.  But whichever of the two was his

intent, it seems to have been a miscalculation.  For on his departure,

Melissus, the son of Ithagenes, a philosopher, being at that time

general in Samos, despising either the small number of the ships that

were left or the inexperience of the commanders, prevailed with the

citizens to attack the Athenians.  And the Samians having won the

battle, and taken several of the men prisoners, and disabled several of

the ships, were masters of the sea, and brought into port all

necessaries they wanted for the war, which they had not before.

Aristotle says, too, that Pericles himself had been once before this

worsted by this Melissus in a sea-fight.

The Samians, that they might requite an affront which had before been

put upon them, branded the Athenians, whom they took prisoners, in their

foreheads, with the figure of an owl.  For so the Athenians had marked

them before with a Samaena, which is a sort of ship, low and flat in the

prow, so as to look snub-nosed, but wide and large and well-spread in

the hold, by which it both carries a large cargo and sails well.  And it

was so called, because the first of that kind was seen at Samos, having

been built by order of Polycrates the tyrant.  These brands upon the

Samians' foreheads, they say, are the allusion in the passage of

Aristophanes, where he says, —

For, oh, the Samians are a lettered people.

Pericles, as soon as news was brought him of the disaster that had

befallen his army, made all the haste he could to come in to their

relief, and having defeated Melissus, who bore up against him, and put

the enemy to flight, he immediately proceeded to hem them in with a wall,

resolving to master them and take the town, rather with some cost and

time, than with the wounds and hazards of his citizens.  But as it was a

hard matter to keep back the Athenians, who were vexed at the delay, and

were eagerly bent to fight, he divided the whole multitude into eight

parts, and arranged by lot that that part which had the white bean

should have leave to feast and take their ease, while the other seven

were fighting.  And this is the reason, they say, that people, when at

any time they have been merry, and enjoyed themselves, call it white

day, in allusion to this white bean.

Ephorus the historian tells us besides, that Pericles made use of

engines of battery in this siege, being much taken with the curiousness

of the invention, with the aid and presence of Artemon himself, the

engineer, who, being lame, used to be carried about in a litter, where

the works required his attendance, and for that reason was called

Periphoretus.  But Heraclides Ponticus disproves this out of Anacreon's

poems, where mention is made of this Artemon Periphoretus several ages

before the Samian war, or any of these occurrences.  And he says that

Artemon, being a man who loved his ease, and had a great apprehension of

danger, for the most part kept close within doors, having two of his

servants to hold a brazen shield over his head, that nothing might fall

upon him from above; and if he were at any time forced upon necessity to

go abroad, that he was carried about in a little hanging bed, close to

the very ground, and that for this reason he was called Periphoretus.

In the ninth month, the Samians surrendering themselves and delivering

up the town, Pericles pulled down their walls, and seized their

shipping, and set a fine of a large sum of money upon them, part of

which they paid down at once, and they agreed to bring in the rest by a

certain time, and gave hostages for security.  Duris the Samian makes a

tragical drama out of these events, charging the Athenians and Pericles

with a great deal of cruelty, which neither Thucydides, nor Ephorus, nor

Aristotle have given any relation of, and probably with little regard to

truth; how, for example, he brought the captains and soldiers of the

galleys into the market-place at Miletus, and there having bound them

fast to boards for ten days, then, when they were already all but half

dead, gave order to have them killed by beating out their brains with

clubs, and their dead bodies to be flung out into the open streets and

fields, unburied.  Duris, however, who even where he has no private

feeling concerned, is not wont to keep his narrative within the limits

of truth, is the more likely upon this occasion to have exaggerated the

calamities which befell his country, to create odium against the

Athenians.  Pericles, however, after the reduction of Samos, returning

back to Athens, took care that those who died in the war should be

honorably buried, and made a funeral harangue, as the custom is, in

their commendation at their graves, for which he gained great

admiration.  As he came down from the stage on which he spoke, the rest

of the women came and complimented him, taking him by the hand, and

crownings him with garlands and ribbons, like a victorious athlete in

the games; but Elpinice, coming near to him, said, "These are brave

deeds, Pericles, that you have done, and such as deserve our chaplets;

who have lost us many a worthy citizen, not in a war with Phoenicians or

Medes, like my brother Cimon, but for the overthrow of an allied and

kindred city."  As Elpinice spoke these words, he, smiling quietly, as

it is said, returned her answer with this verse, —

Old women should not seek to be perfumed.

Ion says of him, that, upon this exploit of his, conquering the Samians,

he indulged very high and proud thoughts of himself:  whereas Agamemnon

was ten years taking a barbarous city, he had in nine months' time

vanquished and taken the greatest and most powerful of the Ionians.  And

indeed it was not without reason that he assumed this glory to himself,

for, in real truth, there was much uncertainty and great hazard in this

war, if so be, as Thucydides tells us, the Samian state were within a

very little of wresting the whole power and dominion of the sea out of

the Athenians' hands.

After this was over, the Peloponnesian war beginning to break out in

full tide, he advised the people to send help to the Corcyrseans, who

were attacked by the Corinthians, and to secure to themselves an island

possessed of great naval resources, since the Peloponnesians were

already all but in actual hostilities against them.  The people readily

consenting to the motion, and voting an aid and succor for them, he

dispatched Lacedaemonius, Cimon's son, having only ten ships with him,

as it were out of a design to affront him; for there was a great

kindness and friendship betwixt Cimon's family and the Lacedaemonians;

so, in order that Lacedaemonius might lie the more open to a charge, or

suspicion at least, of favoring the Lacedaemonians and playing false, if

he performed no considerable exploit in this service, he allowed him a

small number of ships, and sent him out against his will; and indeed he

made it somewhat his business to hinder Cimon's sons from rising in the

state, professing that by their very names they were not to be looked

upon as native and true Athenians, but foreigners and strangers, one

being called Lacedaemonius, another Thessalus, and the third Eleus; and

they were all three of them, it was thought, born of an Arcadian woman.

Being, however, ill spoken of on account of these ten galleys, as having

afforded but a small supply to the people that were in need, and yet

given a great advantage to those who might complain of the act of

intervention, Pericles sent out a larger force afterward to Corcyra,

which arrived after the fight was over.  And when now the Corinthians,

angry and indignant with the Athenians, accused them publicly at

Lacedaemon, the Megarians joined with them, complaining that they were,

contrary to common right and the articles of peace sworn to among the

Greeks, kept out and driven away from every market and from all ports

under the control of the Athenians.  The Aeginetans, also, professing to

be ill-used and treated with violence, made supplications in private to

the Lacedaemonians for redress, though not daring openly to call the

Athenians in question.  In the meantime, also, the city Potidaea, under

the dominion of the Athenians, but a colony formerly of the Corinthians,

had revolted, and was beset with a formal siege, and was a further

occasion of precipitating the war.

Yet notwithstanding all this, there being embassies sent to Athens, and

Archidamus, the king of the Lacedaemonians, endeavoring to bring the

greater part of the complaints and matters in dispute to a fair

determination, and to pacify and allay the heats of the allies, it is

very likely that the war would not upon any other grounds of quarrel

have fallen upon the Athenians, could they have been prevailed with to

repeal the ordinance against the Megarians, and to be reconciled to

them.  Upon which account, since Pericles was the man who mainly opposed

it, and stirred up the people's passions to persist in their contention

with the Megarians, he was regarded as the sole cause of the war.

They say, moreover, that ambassadors went, by order from Lacedaemon to

Athens about this very business, and that when Pericles was urging a

certain law which made it illegal to take down or withdraw the tablet of

the decree, one of the ambassadors, Polyalces by name, said, "Well, do

not take it down then, but turn it; there is no law, I suppose, which

forbids that;" which, though prettily said, did not move Pericles from

his resolution.  There may have been, in all likelihood, something of a

secret grudge and private animosity which he had against the Megarians.

Yet, upon a public and open charge against them, that they had

appropriated part of the sacred land on the frontier, he proposed a

decree that a herald should be sent to them, and the same also to the

Lacedaemonians, with an accusation of the Megarians; an order which

certainly shows equitable and friendly proceeding enough.  And after

that the herald who was sent, by name Anthemocritus, died, and it was

believed that the Megarians had contrived his death, then Charinus

proposed a decree against them, that there should be an irreconcilable

and implacable enmity thenceforward betwixt the two commonwealths; and

that if any one of the Megarians should but set his foot in Attica, he

should be put to death; and that the commanders, when they take the

usual oath, should, over and above that, swear that they will twice

every year make an inroad into the Megarian country; and that

Anthemocritus should be buried near the Thriasian Gates, which are now

called the Dipylon, or Double Gate.

On the other hand, the Megarians, utterly denying and disowning the

murder of Anthemocritus, throw the whole matter upon Aspasia and

Pericles, availing themselves of the famous verses in the Acharnians,

To Megara some of our madcaps ran,

And stole Simaetha thence, their courtesan.

Which exploit the Megarians to outdo,

Came to Aspasia's house, and took off two.

The true occasion of the quarrel is not so easy to find out.  But of

inducing the refusal to annul the decree, all alike charge Pericles.

Some say he met the request with a positive refusal, out of high spirit

and a view of the state's best interests, accounting that the demand

made in those embassies was designed for a trial of their compliance,

and that a concession would be taken for a confession of weakness, as if

they durst not do otherwise; while other some there are who say that it

was rather out of arrogance and a willful spirit of contention, to show

his own strength, that he took occasion to slight the Lacedaemonians.

The worst motive of all, which is confirmed by most witnesses, is to the

following effect.  Phidias the Molder had, as has before been said,

undertaken to make the statue of Minerva.  Now he, being admitted to

friendship with Pericles, and a great favorite of his, had many enemies

upon this account, who envied and maligned him; who also, to make trial

in a case of his, what kind of judges the commons would prove, should

there be occasion to bring Pericles himself before them, having tampered

with Menon, one who had been a workman with Phidias, stationed him ill

the market-place, with a petition desiring public security upon his

discovery and impeachment of Phidias.  The people admitting the man to

tell his story, and the prosecution proceeding in the assembly, there

was nothing of theft or cheat proved against him; for Phidias, from the

very first beginning, by the advice of Pericles, had so wrought and

wrapt the gold that was used in the work about the statue, that they

might take it all off and make out the just weight of it, which Pericles

at that time bade the accusers do.  But the reputation of his works was

what brought envy upon Phidias, especially that where he represents the

fight of the Amazons upon the goddesses' shield, he had introduced a

likeness of himself as a bald old man holding up a great stone with both

hands, and had put in a very fine representation of Pericles fighting

with an Amazon.  And the position of the hand, which holds out the spear

in front of the face, was ingeniously contrived to conceal in some

degree the likeness, which, meantime, showed itself on either side.

Phidias then was carried away to prison, and there died of a disease;

but, as some say, of poison, administered by the enemies of Pericles, to

raise a slander, or a suspicion, at least, as though he had procured it.

The informer Menon, upon Glycon's proposal, the people made free from

payment of taxes and customs, and ordered the generals to take care that

nobody should do him any hurt.  About the same time, Aspasia was

indicted of impiety, upon the complaint of Hermippus the comedian, who

also laid further to her charge that she received into her house

freeborn women for the uses of Pericles.  And Diopithes proposed a

decree, that public accusation should be laid against persons who

neglected religion, or taught new doctrines about things above,

directing suspicion, by means of Anaxagoras, against Pericles himself.

The people receiving and admitting these accusations and complaints, at

length, by this means, they came to enact a decree, at the motion of

Dracontides, that Pericles should bring in the accounts of the moneys he

had expended, and lodge them with the Prytanes; and that the judges,

carrying their suffrage from the altar in the Acropolis, should examine

and determine the business in the city.  This last clause Hagnon took

out of the decree, and moved that the causes should be tried before

fifteen hundred jurors, whether they should be styled prosecutions for

robbery, or bribery, or any kind of malversation.  Aspasia, Pericles

begged off, shedding, as Aeschines says, many tears at the trial, and

personally entreating the jurors.  But fearing how it might go with

Anaxagoras, he sent him out of the city.  And finding that in Phidias's

case he had miscarried with the people, being afraid of impeachment, he

kindled the war, which hitherto had lingered and smothered, and blew it

up into a flame; hoping, by that means, to disperse and scatter these

complaints and charges, and to allay their jealousy; the city usually

throwing herself upon him alone, and trusting to his sole conduct, upon

the urgency of great affairs and public dangers, by reason of his

authority and the sway he bore.

These are given out to have been the reasons which induced Pericles not

to suffer the people of Athens to yield to the proposals of the

Lacedaemonians; but their truth is uncertain.

The Lacedaemonians, for their part, feeling sure that if they could once

remove him, they might be at what terms they pleased with the Athenians,

sent them word that they should expel the "Pollution" with which

Pericles on the mother's side was tainted, as Thucydides tells us.  But

the issue proved quite contrary to what those who sent the message

expected; instead of bringing Pericles under suspicion and reproach,

they raised him into yet greater credit and esteem with the citizens, as

a man whom their enemies most hated and feared.  In the same way, also,

before Archidamus, who was at the head of the Peloponnesians, made his

invasion into Attica, he told the Athenians beforehand, that if

Archidamus, while he laid waste the rest of the country, should forbear

and spare his estate, either on the ground of friendship or right of

hospitality that was betwixt them, or on purpose to give his enemies an

occasion of traducing him, that then he did freely bestow upon the state

all that his land and the buildings upon it for the public use.  The

Lacedaemonians, therefore, and their allies, with a great army, invaded

the Athenian territories, under the conduct of king Archidamus, and

laying waste the country, marched on as far as Acharnae, and there

pitched their camp, presuming that the Athenians would never endure

that, but would come out and fight them for their country's and their

honor's sake.  But Pericles looked upon it as dangerous to engage in

battle, to the risk of the city itself, against sixty thousand men-at-

arms of Peloponnesians and Boeotians; for so many they were in number

that made the inroad at first; and he endeavored to appease those who

were desirous to fight, and were grieved and discontented to see how

things went, and gave them good words, saying, that "trees, when they

are lopped and cut, grow up again in a short time but men, being once

lost, cannot easily be recovered."  He did not convene the people into

an assembly, for fear lest they should force him to act against his

judgment; but, like a skillful steersman or pilot of a ship, who, when a

sudden squall comes on, out at sea, makes all his arrangements, sees

that all is tight and fast, and then follows the dictates of his skill,

and minds the business of the ship, taking no notice of the tears and

entreaties of the sea-sick and fearful passengers, so he, having shut up

the city gates, and placed guards at all posts for security, followed

his own reason and judgment, little regarding those that cried out

against him and were angry at his management, although there were a

great many of his friends that urged him with requests, and many of his

enemies threatened and accused him for doing as he did, and many made

songs and lampoons upon him, which were sung about the town to his

disgrace, reproaching him with the cowardly exercise of his office of

general, and the tame abandonment of everything to the enemy's hands.

Cleon, also, already was among his assailants, making use of the feeling

against him as a step to the leadership of the people, as appears in the

anapaestic verses of Hermippus.

Satyr-king, instead of swords,

Will you always handle words?

Very brave indeed we find them,

But a Teles lurks behind them.

Yet to gnash your teeth you're seen,

When the little dagger keen,

Whetted every day anew,

Of sharp Cleon touches you.

Pericles, however, was not at all moved by any attacks, but took all

patiently, and submitted in silence to the disgrace they threw upon him

and the ill-will they bore him; and, sending out a fleet of a hundred

galleys to Peloponnesus, he did not go along with it in person, but

stayed behind, that he might watch at home and keep the city under his

own control, till the Peloponnesians broke up their camp and were gone.

Yet to soothe the common people, jaded and distressed with the war, he

relieved them with distributions of public moneys, and ordained new

divisions of subject land.  For having turned out all the people of

Aegina, he parted the island among the Athenians, according to lot.

Some comfort, also, and ease in their miseries, they might receive from

what their enemies endured.  For the fleet, sailing round the

Peloponnese, ravaged a great deal of the country, and pillaged and

plundered the towns and smaller cities; and by land he himself entered

with an army the Megarian country, and made havoc of it all.  Whence it

is clear that the Peloponnesians, though they did the Athenians much

mischief by land, yet suffering as much themselves from them by sea,

would not have protracted the war to such a length, but would quickly

have given it over, as Pericles at first foretold they would, had not

some divine power crossed human purposes.

In the first place, the pestilential disease, or plague, seized upon the

city, and ate up all the flower and prime of their youth and strength.

Upon occasion of which, the people, distempered and afflicted in their

souls, as well as in their bodies, were utterly enraged like madmen

against Pericles, and, like patients grown delirious, sought to lay

violent hands on their physician, or, as it were, their father.  They

had been possessed, by his enemies, with the belief that the occasion of

the plague was the crowding of the country people together into the

town, forced as they were now, in the heat of the summer-weather, to

dwell many of them together even as they could, in small tenements and

stifling hovels, and to be tied to a lazy course of life within doors,

whereas before they lived in a pure, open, and free air.  The cause and

author of all this, said they, is he who on account of the war has

poured a multitude of people from the country in upon us within the

walls, and uses all these many men that he has here upon no employ or

service, but keeps them pent up like cattle, to be overrun with

infection from one another, affording them neither shift of quarters nor

any refreshment.

With the design to remedy these evils, and do the enemy some

inconvenience, Pericles got a hundred and fifty galleys ready, and

having embarked many tried soldiers, both foot and horse, was about to

sail out, giving great hope to his citizens, and no less alarm to his

enemies, upon the sight of so great a force.  And now the vessels having

their complement of men, and Pericles being gone aboard his own galley,

it happened that the sun was eclipsed, and it grew dark on a sudden, to

the affright of all, for this was looked upon as extremely ominous.

Pericles, therefore, perceiving the steersman seized with fear and at a

loss what to do, took his cloak and held it up before the man's face,

and, screening him with it so that he could not see, asked him whether

he imagined there was any great hurt, or the sign of any great hurt in

this, and he answering No, "Why," said he, "and what does that differ

from this, only that what has caused that darkness there, is something

greater than a cloak?"  This is a story which philosophers tell their

scholars.  Pericles, however after putting out to sea, seems not to have

done any other exploit befitting such preparations, and when he had laid

siege to the holy city Epidaurus, which gave him some hope of surrender,

miscarried in his design by reason of the sickness.  For it not only

seized upon the Athenians, but upon all others, too, that held any sort

of communication with the army.  Finding after this the Athenians ill

affected and highly displeased with him, he tried and endeavored what he

could to appease and re-encourage them.  But he could not pacify or

allay their anger, nor persuade or prevail with them any way, till they

freely passed their votes upon him, resumed their power, took away his

command from him, and fined him in a sum of money; which, by their

account that say least, was fifteen talents, while they who reckon most,

name fifty.  The name prefixed to the accusation was Cleon, as Idomeneus

tells us; Simmias, according to Theophrastus; and Heraclides Ponticus

gives it as Lacratidas.

After this, public troubles were soon to leave him unmolested; the

people, so to say, discharged their passion in their stroke, and lost

their stings in the wound.  But his domestic concerns were in an unhappy

condition many of his friends and acquaintance having died in the plague

time, and those of his family having long since been in disorder and in

a kind of mutiny against him.  For the eldest of his lawfully begotten

sons, Xanthippus by name, being naturally prodigal, and marrying a young

and expensive wife, the daughter of Tisander, son of Epilycus, was

highly offended at his father's economy in making him but a scanty

allowance, by little and little at a time.  He sent, therefore, to a

friend one day, and borrowed some money of him in his father Pericles's

name, pretending it was by his order.  The man coming afterward to

demand the debt, Pericles was so far from yielding to pay it, that he

entered an action against him.  Upon which the young man, Xanthippus,

thought himself so ill used and disobliged, that he openly reviled his

father; telling first, by way of ridicule, stories about his

conversations at home, and the discourses he had with the sophists and

scholars that came to his house.  As for instance, how one who was a

practicer of the five games of skill, having with a dart or javelin

unawares against his will struck and killed Epitimus the Pharsalian, his

father spent a whole day with Protagoras in a serious dispute, whether

the javelin, or the man that threw it, or the masters of the games who

appointed these sports, were, according to the strictest and best

reason, to be accounted the cause of this mischance.  Besides this,

Stesimbrotus tells us that it was Xanthippus who spread abroad among the

people the infamous story concerning his own wife; and in general that

this difference of the young man's with his father, and the breach

betwixt them, continued never to be healed or made up till his death.

For Xanthippus died in the plague time of the sickness.  At which time

Pericles also lost his sister, and the greatest part of his relations

and friends, and those who had been most useful and serviceable to him

in managing the affairs of state.  However, he did not shrink or give in

upon these occasions, nor betray or lower his high spirit and the

greatness of his mind under all his misfortunes; he was not even so much

as seen to weep or to mourn, or even attend the burial of any of his

friends or relations, till at last he lost his only remaining legitimate

son.  Subdued by this blow and yet striving still, as far as he could,

to maintain his principle and to preserve and keep up the greatness of

his soul when he came, however, to perform the ceremony of putting a

garland of flowers upon the head of the corpse, he was vanquished by his

passion at the sight, so that he burst into exclamations, and shed

copious tears, having never done any such thing in all his life before.

The city having made trial of other generals for the conduct of war, and

orators for business of state, when they found there was no one who was

of weight enough for such a charge, or of authority sufficient to be

trusted with so great a command, regretted the loss of him, and invited

him again to address and advise them, and to reassume the office of

general.  He, however, lay at home in dejection and mourning; but was

persuaded by Alcibiades and others of his friends to come abroad and

show himself to the people; who having, upon his appearance, made their

acknowledgments, and apologized for their untowardly treatment of him,

he undertook the public affairs once more; and, being chosen general,

requested that the statute concerning base-born children, which he

himself had formerly caused to be made, might be suspended; that so the

name and race of his family might not, for absolute want of a lawful

heir to succeed, be wholly lost and extinguished.  The case of the

statute was thus:  Pericles, when long ago at the height of his power in

the state, having then, as has been said, children lawfully begotten,

proposed a law that those only should be reputed true citizens of Athens

who were born of such parents as were both Athenians.  After this, the

king of Egypt having sent to the people, by way of present, forty

thousand bushels of wheat, which were to be shared out among the

citizens, a great many actions and suits about legitimacy occurred, by

virtue of that edict; cases which, till that time, had not been known

nor taken notice of; and several persons suffered by false accusations.

There were little less than five thousand who were convicted and sold

for slaves; those who, enduring the test, remained in the government and

passed muster for true Athenians were found upon the poll to be fourteen

thousand and forty persons in number.

It looked strange, that a law, which had been carried so far against so

many people, should be canceled again by the same man that made it; yet

the present calamity and distress which Pericles labored under in his

family broke through all objections, and prevailed with the Athenians to

pity him, as one whose losses and misfortunes had sufficiently punished

his former arrogance and haughtiness.  His sufferings deserved, they

thought, their pity, and even indignation, and his request was such as

became a man to ask and men to grant; they gave him permission to enroll

his son in the register of his fraternity, giving him his own name.

This son afterward, after having defeated the Peloponnesians at

Arginusae, was, with his fellow-generals, put to death by the people.

About the time when his son was enrolled, it should seem, the plague

seized Pericles, not with sharp and violent fits, as it did others that

had it, but with a dull and lingering distemper, attended with various

changes and alterations, leisurely, by little and little, wasting the

strength of his body, and undermining the noble faculties of his soul.

So that Theophrastus, in his Morals, when discussing whether men's

characters change with their circumstances, and their moral habits,

disturbed by the ailings of their bodies, start aside from the rules of

virtue, has left it upon record, that Pericles, when he was sick, showed

one of his friends that came to visit him, an amulet or charm that the

women had hung about his neck; as much as to say, that he was very sick

indeed when he would admit of such a foolery as that was.

When he was now near his end, the best of the citizens and those of his

friends who were left alive, sitting about him, were speaking of the

greatness of his merit, and his power, and reckoning up his famous

actions and the number of his victories; for there were no less than

nine trophies, which, as their chief commander and conqueror of their

enemies, he had set up, for the honor of the city.  They talked thus

together among themselves, as though he were unable to understand or

mind what they said, but had now lost his consciousness.  He had

listened, however, all the while, and attended to all, and speaking out

among them, said, that he wondered they should commend and take notice

of things which were as much owing to fortune as to anything else, and

had happened to many other commanders, and, at the same time, should not

speak or make mention of that which was the most excellent and greatest

thing of all.  "For," said he, "no Athenian, through my means, ever wore

mourning."

He was indeed a character deserving our high admiration, not only for

his equitable and mild temper, which all along in the many affairs of

his life, and the great animosities which he incurred, he constantly

maintained; but also for the high spirit and feeling which made him

regard it the noblest of all his honors that, in the exercise of such

immense power, he never had gratified his envy or his passion, nor ever

had treated any enemy as irreconcilably opposed to him.  And to me it

appears that this one thing gives that otherwise childish and arrogant

title a fitting and becoming significance; so dispassionate a temper, a

life so pure and unblemished, in the height of power and place, might

well be called Olympian, in accordance with our conceptions of the

divine beings, to whom, as the natural authors of all good and of

nothing evil, we ascribe the rule and government of the world.  Not as

the poets represent, who, while confounding us with their ignorant

fancies, are themselves confuted by their own poems and fictions, and

call the place, indeed, where they say the gods make their abode, a

secure and quiet seat, free from all hazards and commotions, untroubled

with winds or with clouds, and equally through all time illumined with a

soft serenity and a pure light, as though such were a home most

agreeable for a blessed and immortal nature; and yet, in the meanwhile,

affirm that the gods themselves are full of trouble and enmity and anger

and other passions, which no way become or belong to even men that have

any understanding.  But this will, perhaps, seem a subject fitter for

some other consideration, and that ought to be treated of in some other

place.

The course of public affairs after his death produced a quick and speedy

sense of the loss of Pericles.  Those who, while he lived, resented his

great authority, as that which eclipsed themselves, presently after his

quitting the stage, making trial of other orators and demagogues,

readily acknowledged that there never had been in nature such a

disposition as his was, more moderate and reasonable in the height of

that state he took upon him, or more grave and impressive in the

mildness which he used.  And that invidious arbitrary power, to which

formerly they gave the name of monarchy and tyranny, did then appear to

have been the chief bulwark of public safety; so great a corruption and

such a flood of mischief and vice followed, which he, by keeping weak

and low, had withheld from notice, and had prevented from attaining

incurable height through a licentious impunity.

FABIUS

Having related the memorable actions of Pericles, our history now

proceeds to the life of Fabius.  A son of Hercules and a nymph, or some

woman of that country, who brought him forth on the banks of Tiber, was,

it is said, the first Fabius, the founder of the numerous and

distinguished family of the name.  Others will have it that they were

first called Fodii, because the first of the race delighted in digging

pitfalls for wild beasts, fodere being still the Latin for to dig, and

fossa for a ditch, and that in process of time, by the change of the two

letters they grew to be called Fabii.  But be these things true or

false, certain it is that this family for a long time yielded a great

number of eminent persons.  Our Fabius, who was fourth in descent from

that Fabius Rullus who first brought the honorable surname of Maximus

into his family, was also, by way of personal nickname, called

Verrucosus, from a wart on his upper lip; and in his childhood they in

like manner named him Ovicula, or The Lamb, on account of his extreme

mildness of temper.  His slowness in speaking, his long labor and pains

in learning, his deliberation in entering into the sports of other

children, his easy submission to everybody, as if he had no will of his

own, made those who judged superficially of him, the greater number,

esteem him insensible and stupid; and few only saw that this tardiness

proceeded from stability, and discerned the greatness of his mind, and

the lionlikeness of his temper.  But as soon as he came into

employments, his virtues exerted and showed themselves; his reputed want

of energy then was recognized by people in general, as a freedom of

passion; his slowness in words and actions, the effect of a true

prudence; his want of rapidity, and his sluggishness, as constancy and

firmness.

Living in a great commonwealth, surrounded by many enemies, he saw the

wisdom of inuring his body (nature's own weapon) to warlike exercises,

and disciplining his tongue for public oratory in a style comformable

to his life and character.  His eloquence, indeed, had not much of

popular ornament, nor empty artifice, but there was in it great weight

of sense; it was strong and sententious, much after the way of

Thucydides.  We have yet extant his funeral oration upon the death of

his son, who died consul, which he recited before the people.

He was five times consul, and in his first consulship had the honor of a

triumph for the victory he gained over the Ligurians, whom he defeated

in a set battle, and drove them to take shelter in the Alps, from whence

they never after made any inroad nor depredation upon their neighbors.

After this, Hannibal came into Italy, who, at his first entrance, having

gained a great battle near the river Trebia, traversed all Tuscany with

his victorious army, and, desolating the country round about, filled

Rome itself with astonishment and terror.  Besides the more common signs

of thunder and lightning then happening, the report of several unheard

of and utterly strange portents much increased the popular

consternation.  For it was said that some targets sweated blood; that at

Antium, when they reaped their corn, many of the ears were filled with

blood; that it had rained redhot stones; that the Falerians had seen the

heavens open and several scrolls falling down, in one of which was

plainly written, "Mars himself stirs his arms."  But these prodigies had

no effect upon the impetuous and fiery temper of the consul Flaminius,

whose natural promptness had been much heightened by his late unexpected

victory over the Gauls, when he fought them contrary to the order of the

senate and the advice of his colleague.  Fabius, on the other side,

thought it not seasonable to engage with the enemy; not that he much

regarded the prodigies, which he thought too strange to be easily

understood, though many were alarmed by them; but in regard that the

Carthaginians were but few, and in want of money and supplies, he deemed

it best not to meet in the field a general whose army had been tried in

many encounters, and whose object was a battle, but to send aid to their

allies, control the movements of the various subject cities, and let the

force and vigor of Hannibal waste away and expire, like a flame, for want

of aliment.

These weighty reasons did not prevail with Flaminius, who protested he

would never suffer the advance of the enemy to the city, nor be reduced,

like Camillus in former time, to fight for Rome within the walls of

Rome.  Accordingly he ordered the tribunes to draw out the army into the

field; and though he himself, leaping on horseback to go out, was no

sooner mounted but the beast, without any apparent cause, fell into so

violent a fit of trembling and bounding that he cast his rider headlong

on the ground, he was no ways deterred; but proceeded as he had begun,

and marched forward up to Hannibal, who was posted near the Lake

Thrasymene in Tuscany.  At the moment of this engagement, there happened

so great an earthquake, that it destroyed several towns, altered the

course of rivers, and carried off parts of high cliffs, yet such was the

eagerness of the combatants, that they were entirely insensible of it.

In this battle Flaminius fell, after many proofs of his strength and

courage, and round about him all the bravest of the army, in the whole,

fifteen thousand were killed, and as many made prisoners.  Hannibal,

desirous to bestow funeral honors upon the body of Flaminius, made

diligent search after it, but could not find it among the dead, nor was

it ever known what became of it.  Upon the former engagement near

Trebia, neither the general who wrote, nor the express who told the

news, used straightforward and direct terms, nor related it otherwise

than as a drawn battle, with equal loss on either side; but on this

occasion, as soon as Pomponius the praetor had the intelligence, he

caused the people to assemble, and, without disguising or dissembling

the matter, told them plainly, "We are beaten, O Romans, in a great

battle; the consul Flaminius is killed; think, therefore, what is to be

done for your safety."  Letting loose his news like a gale of wind upon

an open sea, he threw the city into utter confusion:  in such

consternation, their thoughts found no support or stay.  The danger at

hand at last awakened their judgments into a resolution to choose a

dictator, who, by the sovereign authority of his office and by his

personal wisdom and courage, might be able to manage the public affairs.

Their choice unanimously fell upon Fabius, whose character seemed equal

to the greatness of the office; whose age was so far advanced as to give

him experience, without taking from him the vigor of action; his body

could execute what his soul designed; and his temper was a happy

compound of confidence and cautiousness.

Fabius, being thus installed in the office of dictator, in the first

place gave the command of the horse to Lucius Minucius; and next asked

leave of the senate for himself, that in time of battle he might serve

on horseback, which by an ancient law amongst the Romans was forbid to

their generals; whether it were, that, placing their greatest strength

in their foot, they would have their commanders-in-chief posted amongst

them, or else to let them know, that, how great and absolute soever

their authority were, the people and senate were still their masters, of

whom they must ask leave.  Fabius, however, to make the authority of his

charge more observable, and to render the people more submissive and

obedient to him, caused himself to be accompanied with the full body of

four and twenty lictors; and, when the surviving consul came to visit

him, sent him word to dismiss his lictors with their fasces, the ensigns

of authority, and appear before him as a private person.

The first solemn action of his dictatorship was very fitly a religious

one:  an admonition to the people, that their late overthrow had not

befallen them through want of courage in their soldiers, but through the

neglect of divine ceremonies in the general.  He therefore exhorted them

not to fear the enemy, but by extraordinary honor to propitiate the

gods.  This he did, not to fill their minds with superstition, but by

religious feeling to raise their courage, and lessen their fear of the

enemy by inspiring the belief that Heaven was on their side.  With this

view, the secret prophecies called the Sibylline Books were consulted;

sundry predictions found in them were said to refer to the fortunes and

events of the time; but none except the consulter was informed.

Presenting himself to the people, the dictator made a vow before them to

offer in sacrifice the whole product of the next season, all Italy over,

of the cows, goats, swine, sheep, both in the mountains and the plains;

and to celebrate musical festivities with an expenditure of the precise

sum of 333 sestertia and 333 denarii, with one third of a denarius over.

The sum total of which is, in our money, 83,583 drachmas and 2 obols.

What the mystery might be in that exact number is not easy to determine,

unless it were in honor of the perfection of the number three, as being

the first of odd numbers, the first that contains in itself

multiplication, with all other properties whatsoever belonging to

numbers in general.

In this manner Fabius having given the people better heart for the

future, by making them believe that the gods took their side, for his

own part placed his whole confidence in himself, believing that the gods

bestowed victory and good fortune by the instrumentality of valor and of

prudence; and thus prepared he set forth to oppose Hannibal, not with

intention to fight him, but with the purpose of wearing out and wasting

the vigor of his arms by lapse of time, of meeting his want of resources

by superior means, by large numbers the smallness of his forces.  With

this design, he always encamped on the highest grounds, where the

enemy's horse could have no access to him.  Still he kept pace with

them; when they marched he followed them, when they encamped he did the

same, but at such a distance as not to be compelled to an engagement,

and always keeping upon the hills, free from the insults of their horse;

by which means he gave them no rest, but kept them in a continual alarm.

But this his dilatory way gave occasion in his own camp for suspicion of

want of courage; and this opinion prevailed yet more in Hannibal's army.

Hannibal was himself the only man who was not deceived, who discerned

his skill and detected his tactics, and saw, unless he could by art or

force bring him to battle, that the Carthaginians, unable to use the

arms in which they were superior, and suffering the continual drain of

lives and treasure in which they were inferior, would in the end come to

nothing.  He resolved, therefore, with all the arts and subtilties of

war to break his measures, and to bring Fabius to an engagement; like a

cunning wrestler, watching every opportunity to get good hold and close

with his adversary.  He at one time attacked, and sought to distract his

attention, tried to draw him off in various directions, endeavored in

all ways to tempt him from his safe policy.  All this artifice, though

it had no effect upon the firm judgment and conviction of the dictator.

yet upon the common soldier and even upon the general of the horse

himself, it had too great an operation:  Minucius, unseasonably eager

for action, bold and confident, humored the soldiery, and himself

contributed to fill them with wild eagerness and empty hopes, which they

vented in reproaches upon Fabius, calling him Hannibal's pedagogue,

since he did nothing else but follow him up and down and wait upon him.

At the same time, they cried up Minucius for the only captain worthy to

command the Romans; whose vanity and presumption rose so high in

consequence, that he insolently jested at Fabius's encampments upon the

mountains, saying that he seated them there as on a theater, to behold

the flames and desolation of their country.  And he would sometimes ask

the friends of the general, whether it were not his meaning, by thus

leading them from mountain to mountain, to carry them at last (having no

hopes on earth) up into heaven, or to hide them in the clouds from

Hannibal's army?  When his friends reported these things to the

dictator, persuading him that, to avoid the general obloquy, he should

engage the enemy, his answer was, "I should be more fainthearted than

they make me, if, through fear of idle reproaches, I should abandon my

own convictions.  It is no inglorious thing to have fear for the safety

of our country, but to be turned from one's course by men's opinions, by

blame, and by misrepresentation, shows a man unfit to hold an office

such as this, which, by such conduct, he makes the slave of those whose

errors it is his business to control."

An oversight of Hannibal occurred soon after.  Desirous to refresh his

horse in some good pasture-grounds, and to draw off his army, he ordered

his guides to conduct him to the district of Casinum.  They, mistaking

his bad pronunciation, led him and his army to the town of Casilinum, on

the frontier of Campania which the river Lothronus, called by the Romans

Vulturnus, divides in two parts.  The country around is enclosed by

mountains, with a valley opening towards the sea, in which the river

overflowing forms a quantity of marsh land with deep banks of sand, and

discharges itself into the sea on a very unsafe and rough shore.  While

Hannibal was proceeding hither, Fabius, by his knowledge of the roads,

succeeded in making his way around before him, and dispatched four

thousand choice men to seize the exit from it and stop him up, and

lodged the rest of his army upon the neighboring hills in the most

advantageous places; at the same time detaching a party of his lightest

armed men to fall upon Hannibal's rear; which they did with such

success, that they cut off eight hundred of them, and put the whole army

in disorder.  Hannibal, finding the error and the danger he was fallen

into, immediately crucified the guides; but considered the enemy to be

so advantageously posted, that there was no hopes of breaking through

them; while his soldiers began to be despondent and terrified, and to

think themselves surrounded with embarrassments too difficult to be

surmounted.

Thus reduced, Hannibal had recourse to stratagem; he caused two thousand

head of oxen which he had in his camp, to have torches or dry fagots

well fastened to their horns, and lighting them in the beginning of the

night, ordered the beasts to be driven on towards the heights commanding

the passages out of the valley and the enemy's posts; when this was

done, he made his army in the dark leisurely march after them.  The oxen

at first kept a slow, orderly pace, and with their lighted heads

resembled an army marching by night, astonishing the shepherds and herds

men of the hills about.  But when the fire had burnt down the horns of

the beasts to the quick, they no longer observed their sober pace, but,

unruly and wild with their pain, ran dispersed about, tossing their

heads and scattering the fire round about them upon each other and

setting light as they passed to the trees.  This was a surprising

spectacle to the Romans on guard upon the heights.  Seeing flames which

appeared to come from men advancing with torches, they were possessed

with the alarm that the enemy was approaching in various quarters, and

that they were being surrounded; and, quitting their post, abandoned the

pass, and precipitately retired to their camp on the hills.  They were

no sooner gone, but the light-armed of Hannibal's men, according to his

order, immediately seized the heights, and soon after the whole army,

with all the baggage, came up and safely marched through the passes.

Fabius, before the night was over, quickly found out the trick; for some

of the beasts fell into his hands; but for fear of an ambush in the

dark, he kept his men all night to their arms in the camp.  As soon as

it was day, he attacked the enemy in the rear, where, after a good deal

of skirmishing in the uneven ground, the disorder might have become

general, but that Hannibal detached from his van a body of Spaniards,

who, of themselves active and nimble, were accustomed to the climbing of

mountains.  These briskly attacked the Roman troops who were in heavy

armor, killed a good many, and left Fabius no longer in condition to

follow the enemy.  This action brought the extreme of obloquy and

contempt upon the dictator; they said it was now manifest that he was

not only inferior to his adversary, as they had always thought, in

courage, but even in that conduct, foresight, and generalship, by which

he had proposed to bring the war to an end.

And Hannibal, to enhance their anger against him, marched with his army

close to the lands and possessions of Fabius, and, giving orders to his

soldiers to burn and destroy all the country about, forbade them to do

the least damage in the estates of the Roman general, and placed guards

for their security.  This, when reported at Rome, had the effect with

the people which Hannibal desired.  Their tribunes raised a thousand

stories against him, chiefly at the instigation of Metilius, who, not so

much out of hatred to him as out of friendship to Minucius, whose

kinsman he was, thought by depressing Fabius to raise his friend.  The

senate on their part were also offended with him, for the bargain he had

made with Hannibal about the exchange of prisoners, the conditions of

which were, that, after exchange made of man for man, if any on either

side remained, they should be redeemed at the price of two hundred and

fifty drachmas a head.  Upon the whole account, there remained two

hundred and forty Romans unexchanged, and the senate now not only

refused to allow money for the ransoms, but also reproached Fabius for

making a contract, contrary to the honor and interest of the

commonwealth, for redeeming men whose cowardice had put them in the

hands of the enemy.  Fabius heard and endured all this with invincible

patience; and, having no money by him, and on the other side being

resolved to keep his word with Hannibal and not to abandon the captives,

he dispatched his son to Rome to sell land, and to bring with him the

price, sufficient to discharge the ransoms; which was punctually

performed by his son, and delivery accordingly made to him of the

prisoners, amongst whom many, when they were released, made proposals to

repay the money; which Fabius in all cases declined.

About this time, he was called to Rome by the priests, to assist,

according to the duty of his office, at certain sacrifices, and was thus

forced to leave the command of the army with Minucius; but before he

parted, not only charged him as his commander-in-chief, but besought and

entreated him, not to come, in his absence, to a battle with Hannibal.

His commands, entreaties, and advice were lost upon Minucius; for his

back was no sooner turned but the new general immediately sought

occasions to attack the enemy.  And notice being brought him that

Hannibal had sent out a great part of his army to forage, he fell upon a

detachment of the remainder, doing great execution, and driving them to

their very camp, with no little terror to the rest, who apprehended

their breaking in upon them; and when Hannibal had recalled his

scattered forces to the camp, he, nevertheless, without any loss, made

his retreat, a success which aggravated his boldness and presumption,

and filled the soldiers with rash confidence.  The news spread to Rome,

where Fabius, on being told it, said that what he most feared was

Minucius's success:  but the people, highly elated, hurried to the forum

to listen to an address from Metilius the tribune, in which he

infinitely extolled the valor of Minucius, and fell bitterly upon

Fabius, accusing him for want not merely of courage, but even of

loyalty; and not only him, but also many other eminent and considerable

persons; saying that it was they that had brought the Carthaginians into

Italy, with the design to destroy the liberty of the people; for which

end they had at once put the supreme authority into the hands of a

single person, who by his slowness and delays might give Hannibal

leisure to establish himself in Italy, and the people of Carthage time

and opportunity to supply him with fresh succors to complete his

conquests

Fabius came forward with no intention to answer the tribune, but only

said, that they should expedite the sacrifices, that so he might

speedily return to the army to punish Minucius, who had presumed to

fight contrary to his orders; words which immediately possessed the

people with the belief that Minucius stood in danger of his life.  For

it was in the power of the dictator to imprison and to put to death, and

they feared that Fabius, of a mild temper in general, would be as hard

to be appeased when once irritated, as he was slow to be provoked.

Nobody dared to raise his voice in opposition.  Metilius alone, whose

office of tribune gave him security to say what he pleased (for in the

time of a dictatorship that magistrate alone preserves his authority),

boldly applied himself to the people in the behalf of Minucius:  that

they should not suffer him to be made a sacrifice to the enmity of

Fabius, nor permit him to be destroyed, like the son of Manlius

Torquatus, who was beheaded by his father for a victory fought and

triumphantly won against order; he exhorted them to take away from

Fabius that absolute power of a dictator, and to put it into more worthy

hands, better able and more inclined to use it for the public good.

These impressions very much prevailed upon the people, though not so far

as wholly to dispossess Fabius of the dictatorship.  But they decreed

that Minucius should have an equal authority with the dictator in the

conduct of the war; which was a thing then without precedent, though a

little later it was again practiced after the disaster at Cannae; when

the dictator, Marcus Junius, being with the army, they chose at Rome

Fabius Buteo dictator, that he might create new senators, to supply the

numerous places of those who were killed.  But as soon as, once acting

in public, he had filled those vacant places with a sufficient number,

he immediately dismissed his lictors, and withdrew from all his

attendance, and, mingling like a common person with the rest of the

people, quietly went about his own affairs in the forum.

The enemies of Fabius thought they had sufficiently humiliated and

subdued him by raising Minucius to be his equal in authority; but they

mistook the temper of the man, who looked upon their folly as not his

loss, but like Diogenes, who, being told that some persons derided him,

made answer, "But I am not derided," meaning that only those were really

insulted on whom such insults made an impression, so Fabius, with great

tranquillity and unconcern, submitted to what happened, and contributed

a proof to the argument of the philosophers that a just and good man is

not capable of being dishonored.  His only vexation arose from his fear

lest this ill counsel, by supplying opportunities to the diseased

military ambition of his subordinate, should damage the public cause.

Lest the rashness of Minucius should now at once run headlong into some

disaster, he returned back with all privacy and speed to the army; where

he found Minucius so elevated with his new dignity, that, a

joint-authority not contenting him, he required by turns to have the

command of the army every other day.  This Fabius rejected, but was

contented that the army should be divided; thinking each general singly

would better command his part, than partially command the whole.  The

first and fourth legion he took for his own division, the second and

third he delivered to Minucius; so also of the auxiliary forces each

had an equal share.

Minucius, thus exalted, could not contain himself from boasting of his

success in humiliating the high and powerful office of the dictatorship.

Fabius quietly reminded him that it was, in all wisdom, Hannibal, and

not Fabius, whom he had to combat; but if he must needs contend with his

colleague, it had best be in diligence and care for the preservation of

Rome; that it might not be said, a man so favored by the people served

them worse than he who had been ill-treated and disgraced by them.

The young general, despising these admonitions as the false humility of

age, immediately removed with the body of his army, and encamped by

himself.  Hannibal, who was not ignorant of all these passages, lay

watching his advantage from them.  It happened that between his army and

that of Minucius there was a certain eminence, which seemed a very

advantageous and not difficult post to encamp upon; the level field

around it appeared, from a distance, to be all smooth and even, though

it had many inconsiderable ditches and dips in it, not discernible to

the eye.  Hannibal, had he pleased, could easily have possessed himself

of this ground; but he had reserved it for a bait, or train, in proper

season, to draw the Romans to an engagement.  Now that Minucius and

Fabius were divided, he thought the opportunity fair for his purpose;

and, therefore, having in the night time lodged a convenient number of

his men in these ditches and hollow places, early in the morning he sent

forth a small detachment, who, in the sight of Minucius, proceeded to

possess themselves of the rising ground.  According to his expectation,

Minucius swallowed the bait, and first sends out his light troops, and

after them some horse, to dislodge the enemy; and, at last, when he saw

Hannibal in person advancing to the assistance of his men, marched down

with his whole army drawn up.  He engaged with the troops on the

eminence, and sustained their missiles; the combat for some time was

equal; but as soon as Hannibal perceived that the whole army was now

sufficiently advanced within the toils he had set for them, so that

their backs were open to his men whom he had posted in the hollows, he

gave the signal; upon which they rushed forth from various quarters, and

with loud cries furiously attacked Minucius in the rear.  The surprise

and the slaughter was great, and struck universal alarm and disorder

through the whole army.  Minucius himself lost all his confidence; he

looked from officer to officer, and found all alike unprepared to face

the danger, and yielding to a flight, which, however, could not end in

safety.  The Numidian horsemen were already in full victory riding about

the plain, cutting down the fugitives.

Fabius was not ignorant of this danger of his countrymen; he foresaw

what would happen from the rashness of Minucius, and the cunning of

Hannibal; and, therefore, kept his men to their arms, in readiness to

wait the event; nor would he trust to the reports of others, but he

himself, in front of his camp, viewed all that passed.  When, therefore,

he saw the army of Minucius encompassed by the enemy, and that by their

countenance and shifting their ground, they appeared more disposed to

flight than to resistance, with a great sigh, striking his hand upon his

thigh, he said to those about him, "O Hercules! how much sooner than I

expected, though later than he seemed to desire, hath Minucius destroyed

himself!"  He then commanded the ensigns to be led forward and the army

to follow, telling them, "We must make haste to rescue Minucius, who is

a valiant man, and a lover of his country; and if he hath been too

forward to engage the enemy, at another time we will tell him of it."

Thus, at the head of his men, Fabius marched up to the enemy, and first

cleared the plain of the Numidians; and next fell upon those who were

charging the Romans in the rear, cutting down all that made opposition,

and obliging the rest to save themselves by a hasty retreat, lest they

should be environed as the Romans had been.  Hannibal, seeing so sudden

a change of affairs, and Fabius, beyond the force of his age, opening

his way through the ranks up the hill-side, that he might join Minucius,

warily forbore, sounded a retreat, and drew off his men into their camp;

while the Romans on their part were no less contented to retire in

safety.  It is reported that upon this occasion Hannibal said jestingly

to his friends:  "Did not I tell you, that this cloud which always

hovered upon the mountains would, at some time or other, come down with

a storm upon us?"

Fabius, after his men had picked up the spoils of the field, retired to

his own camp, without saying any harsh or reproachful thing to his

colleague; who also on his part, gathering his army together, spoke and

said to them:  "To conduct great matters and never commit a fault is

above the force of human nature; but to learn and improve by the faults

we have committed, is that which becomes a good and sensible man.  Some

reasons I may have to accuse fortune, but I have many more to thank her;

for in a few hours she hath cured a long mistake, and taught me that I

am not the man who should command others, but have need of another to

command me; and that we are not to contend for victory over those to

whom it is our advantage to yield.  Therefore in everything else

henceforth the dictator must be your commander; only in showing

gratitude towards him I will still be your leader, and always be the

first to obey his orders."  Having said this, he commanded the Roman

eagles to move forward, and all his men to follow him to the camp of

Fabius.  The soldiers, then, as he entered, stood amazed at the novelty

of the sight, and were anxious and doubtful what the meaning might be.

When he came near the dictator's tent, Fabius went forth to meet him, on

which he at once laid his standards at his feet, calling him with a loud

voice his father; while the soldiers with him saluted the soldiers here

as their patrons, the term employed by freedmen to those who gave them

their liberty.  After silence was obtained, Minucius said, "You have

this day, O dictator, obtained two victories; one by your valor and

conduct over Hannibal, and another by your wisdom and goodness over your

colleague; by one victory you preserved, and by the other instructed us;

and when we were already suffering one shameful defeat from Hannibal, by

another welcome one from you we were restored to honor and safety.  I

can address you by no nobler name than that of a kind father, though a

father's beneficence falls short of that I have received from you.  From

a father I individually received the gift of life; to you I owe its

preservation not for myself only, but for all these who are under me."

After this, he threw himself into the arms of the dictator; and in the

same manner the soldiers of each army embraced one another with gladness

and tears of joy.

Not long after, Fabius laid down the dictatorship, and consuls were

again created.  Those who immediately succeeded, observed the same

method in managing the war, and avoided all occasions of fighting

Hannibal in a pitched battle; they only succored their allies, and

preserved the towns from falling off to the enemy.  but afterwards, when

Terentius Varro, a man of obscure birth, but very popular and bold, had

obtained the consulship, he soon made it appear that by his rashness and

ignorance he would stake the whole commonwealth on the hazard.  For it

was his custom to declaim in all assemblies, that, as long as Rome

employed generals like Fabius there never would be an end of the war;

vaunting that whenever he should get sight of the enemy, he would that

same day free Italy from the strangers.  With these promises he so

prevailed, that he raised a greater army than had ever yet been sent out

of Rome.  There were enlisted eighty-eight thousand fighting men; but

what gave confidence to the populace, only terrified the wise and

experienced, and none more than Fabius; since if so great a body, and

the flower of the Roman youth, should be cut off, they could not see any

new resource for the safety of Rome.  They addressed themselves,

therefore, to the other consul, Aemilius Paulus, a man of great

experience in war, but unpopular, and fearful also of the people, who

once before upon some impeachment had condemned him; so that he needed

encouragement to withstand his colleague's temerity.  Fabius told him,

if he would profitably serve his country, he must no less oppose Varro's

ignorant eagerness than Hannibal's conscious readiness, since both alike

conspired to decide the fate of Rome by a battle.  "It is more

reasonable," he said to him, "that you should believe me than Varro, in

matters relating to Hannibal, when I tell you, that if for this year you

abstain from fighting with him, either his army will perish of itself,

or else he will be glad to depart of his own will.  This evidently

appears, inasmuch as, notwithstanding his victories, none of the

countries or towns of Italy come in to him, and his army is not now the

third part of what it was at first."  To this Paulus is said to have

replied, "Did I only consider myself, I should rather choose to be

exposed to the weapons of Hannibal than once more to the suffrages of my

fellow-citizens, who are urgent for what you disapprove; yet since the

cause of Rome is at stake, I will rather seek in my conduct to please

and obey Fabius than all the world besides."

These good measures were defeated by the importunity of Varro; whom,

when they were both come to the army, nothing would content but a

separate command, that each consul should have his day; and when his

turn came, he posted his army close to Hannibal, at a village called

Cannae, by the river Aufidus.  It was no sooner day, but he set up the

scarlet coat flying over his tent, which was the signal of battle.  This

boldness of the consul, and the numerousness of his army, double theirs,

startled the Carthaginians; but Hannibal commanded them to their arms,

and with a small train rode out to take a full prospect of the enemy as

they were now forming in their ranks, from a rising ground not far

distant.  One of his followers, called Gisco, a Carthaginian of equal

rank with himself, told him that the numbers of the enemy were

astonishing; to which Hannibal replied, with a serious countenance,

"There is one thing, Gisco, yet more astonishing, which you take no

notice of;" and when Gisco inquired what, answered, that "in all those

great numbers before us, there is not one man called Gisco."  This

unexpected jest of their general made all the company laugh, and as they

came down from the hill, they told it to those whom they met, which

caused a general laughter amongst them all, from which they were hardly

able to recover themselves.  The army, seeing Hannibal's attendants come

back from viewing the enemy in such a laughing condition, concluded that

it must be profound contempt of the enemy, that made their general at

this moment indulge in such hilarity.

According to his usual manner, Hannibal employed stratagems to advantage

himself.  In the first place, he so drew up his men that the wind was at

their backs, which at that time blew with a perfect storm of violence,

and, sweeping over the great plains of sand, carried before it a cloud

of dust over the Carthaginian army into the faces of the Romans, which

much disturbed them in the fight.  In the next place, all his best men

he put into his wings; and in the body, which was somewhat more advanced

than the wings, placed the worst and the weakest of his army.  He

commanded those in the wings, that, when the enemy had made a thorough

charge upon that middle advanced body, which he knew would recoil, as

not being able to withstand their shock, and when the Romans, in their

pursuit, should be far enough engaged within the two wings, they should,

both on the right and the left, charge them in the flank, and endeavor

to encompass them.  This appears to have been the chief cause of the

Roman loss.  Pressing upon Hannibal's front, which gave ground, they

reduced the form of his army into a perfect half-moon, and gave ample

opportunity to the captains of the chosen troops to charge them right

and left on their flanks, and to cut off and destroy all who did not

fall back before the Carthaginian wings united in their rear.  To this

general calamity, it is also said, that a strange mistake among the

cavalry much contributed.  For the horse of Aemilius receiving a hurt

and throwing his master, those about him immediately alighted to aid the

consul; and the Roman troops, seeing their commanders thus quitting

their horses, took it for a sign that they should all dismount and

charge the enemy on foot.  At the sight of this, Hannibal was heard to

say, "This pleases me better than if they had been delivered to me bound

hand and foot."  For the particulars of this engagement, we refer our

reader to those authors who have written at large upon the subject.

The consul Varro, with a thin company, fled to Venusia; Aemilius Paulus,

unable any longer to oppose the flight of his men, or the pursuit of the

enemy, his body all covered with wounds, and his soul no less wounded

with grief, sat himself down upon a stone, expecting the kindness of a

dispatching blow.  His face was so disfigured, and all his person so

stained with blood, that his very friends and domestics passing by knew

him not.  At last Cornelius Lentulus, a young man of patrician race,

perceiving who he was, alighted from his horse, and, tendering it to

him, desired him to get up and save a life so necessary to the safety of

the commonwealth, which, at this time, would dearly want so great a

captain.  But nothing could prevail upon him to accept of the offer; he

obliged young Lentulus, with tears in his eyes, to remount his horse;

then standing up, he gave him his hand, and commanded him to tell Fabius

Maximus that Aemilius Paulus had followed his directions to his very

last, and had not in the least deviated from those measures which were

agreed between them; but that it was his hard fate to be overpowered by

Varro in the first place, and secondly by Hannibal.  Having dispatched

Lentulus with this commission, he marked where the slaughter was

greatest, and there threw himself upon the swords of the enemy.  In this

battle it is reported that fifty thousand Romans were slain, four

thousand prisoners taken in the field, and ten thousand in the camp of

both consuls.

The friends of Hannibal earnestly persuaded him to follow up his

victory, and pursue the flying Romans into the very gates of Rome,

assuring him that in five days' time he might sup in the capitol; nor is

it easy to imagine what consideration hindered him from it.  It would

seem rather that some supernatural or divine intervention caused the

hesitation and timidity which he now displayed, and which made Barcas, a

Carthaginian, tell him with indignation, "You know, Hannibal, how to

gain a victory, but not how to use it."  Yet it produced a marvelous

revolution in his affairs; he, who hitherto had not one town, market, or

seaport in his possession, who had nothing for the subsistence of his

men but what he pillaged from day to day, who had no place of retreat or

basis of operation, but was roving, as it were, with a huge troop of

banditti, now became master of the best provinces and towns of Italy,

and of Capua itself, next to Rome the most flourishing and opulent city,

all which came over to him, and submitted to his authority.

It is the saying of Euripides, that "a man is in ill-case when he must

try a friend," and so neither, it would seem, is a state in a good one,

when it needs an able general.  And so it was with the Romans; the

counsels and actions of Fabius, which, before the battle, they had

branded as cowardice and fear, now, in the other extreme they accounted

to have been more than human wisdom; as though nothing but a divine

power of intellect could have seen so far, and foretold, contrary to the

judgment of all others, a result which, even now it had arrived, was

hardly credible.  In him, therefore, they placed their whole remaining

hopes; his wisdom was the sacred altar and temple to which they fled for

refuge, and his counsels, more than anything, preserved them from

dispersing and deserting their city, as in the time when the Gauls took

possession of Rome.  He, whom they esteemed fearful and pusillanimous

when they were, as they thought, in a prosperous condition, was now the

only man, in this general and unbounded dejection and confusion, who

showed no fear, but walked the streets with an assured and serene

countenance, addressed his fellow-citizens, checked the women's

lamentations, and the public gatherings of those who wanted thus to vent

their sorrows.  He caused the senate to meet, he heartened up the

magistrates, and was himself as the soul and life of every office.

He placed guards at the gates of the city to stop the frighted multitude

from flying; he regulated and controlled their mournings for their slain

friends, both as to time and place; ordering that each family should

perform such observances within private walls, and that they should

continue only the space of one month, and then the whole city should be

purified.  The feast of Ceres happening to fall within this time, it was

decreed that the solemnity should be intermitted, lest the fewness, and

the sorrowful countenance of those who should celebrate it, might too

much expose to the people the greatness of their loss; besides that, the

worship most acceptable to the gods is that which comes from cheerful

hearts.  But those rites which were proper for appeasing their anger,

and procuring auspicious signs and presages, were by the direction of

the augurs carefully performed.  Fabius Pictor, a near kinsman to

Maximus, was sent to consult the oracle of Delphi; and about the same

time, two vestals having been detected to have been violated, the one

killed herself, and the other, according to custom, was buried alive.

Above all, let us admire the high spirit and equanimity of this Roman

commonwealth; that when the consul Varro came beaten and flying home,

full of shame and humiliation, after he had so disgracefully and

calamitously managed their affairs, yet the whole senate and people went

forth to meet him at the gates of the city, and received him with honor

and respect.  And, silence being commanded, the magistrates and chief of

the senate, Fabius amongst them, commended him before the people,

because he did not despair of the safety of the commonwealth, after so

great a loss, but was come to take the government into his hands, to

execute the laws, and aid his fellow-citizens in their prospect of

future deliverance.

When word was brought to Rome that Hannibal, after the fight, had

marched with his army into other parts of Italy, the hearts of the

Romans began to revive, and they proceeded to send out generals and

armies.  The most distinguished commands were held by Fabius Maximus and

Claudius Marcellus, both generals of great fame, though upon opposite

grounds.  For Marcellus, as we have set forth in his life, was a man of

action and high spirit, ready and bold with his own hand, and, as Homer

describes his warriors, fierce, and delighting in fights.  Boldness,

enterprise, and daring, to match those of Hannibal, constituted his

tactics, and marked his engagements.  But Fabius adhered to his former

principles, still persuaded that, by following close and not fighting

him, Hannibal and his army would at last be tired out and consumed, like

a wrestler in too high condition, whose very excess of strength makes

him the more likely suddenly to give way and lose it.  Posidonius tells

us that the Romans called Marcellus their sword, and Fabius their

buckler; and that the vigor of the one, mixed with the steadiness of the

other, made a happy compound that proved the salvation of Rome.  So that

Hannibal found by experience that, encountering the one, he met with a

rapid, impetuous river, which drove him back, and still made some breach

upon him; and by the other, though silently and quietly passing by him,

he was insensibly washed away and consumed; and, at last, was brought to

this, that he dreaded Marcellus when he was in motion, and Fabius when

he sat still.  During the whole course of this war, he had still to do

with one or both of these generals; for each of them was five times

consul, and, as praetors or proconsuls or consuls, they had always a

part in the government of the army, till, at last, Marcellus fell into

the trap which Hannibal had laid for him, and was killed in his fifth

consulship.  But all his craft and subtlety were unsuccessful upon

Fabius, who only once was in some danger of being caught, when

counterfeit letters came to him from the principal inhabitants of

Metapontum, with promises to deliver up their town if he would come

before it with his army, and intimations that they should expect him,

This train had almost drawn him in; he resolved to march to them with

part of his army, and was diverted only by consulting the omens of the

birds, which he found to be inauspicious; and not long after it was

discovered that the letters had been forged by Hannibal, who, for his

reception, had laid an ambush to entertain him.  This, perhaps, we must

rather attribute to the favor of the gods than to the prudence of

Fabius.

In preserving the towns and allies from revolt by fair and gentle

treatment, and in not using rigor, or showing a suspicion upon every

light suggestion, his conduct was remarkable.  It is told of him, that,

being informed of a certain Marsian, eminent for courage and good birth,

who had been speaking underhand with some of the soldiers about

deserting, Fabius was so far from using severity against him, that he

called for him, and told him he was sensible of the neglect that had

been shown to his merit and good service, which, he said, was a great

fault in the commanders who reward more by favor than by desert; "but

henceforward, whenever you are aggrieved," said Fabius, "I shall

consider it your fault, if you apply yourself to any but to me;" and

when he had so spoken, he bestowed an excellent horse and other presents

upon him; and, from that time forwards, there was not a faithfuller and

more trusty man in the whole army.  With good reason he judged, that, if

those who have the government of horses and dogs endeavor by gentle

usage to cure their angry and untractable tempers, rather than by

cruelty and beating, much more should those who have the command of men

try to bring them to order and discipline by the mildest and fairest

means, and not treat them worse than gardeners do those wild plants,

which, with care and attention, lose gradually the savageness of their

nature, and bear excellent fruit.

At another time, some of his officers informed him that one of their men

was very often absent from his place, and out at nights; he asked them

what kind of man he was; they all answered, that the whole army had not

a better man, that he was a native of Lucania, and proceeded to speak of

several actions which they had seen him perform.  Fabius made strict

inquiry, and discovered at last that these frequent excursions which he

ventured upon were to visit a young girl, with whom he was in love.

Upon which he gave private order to some of his men to find out the

woman and secretly convey her into his own tent; and then sent for the

Lucanian, and, calling him aside, told him, that he very well knew how

often he had been out away from the camp at night, which was a capital

transgression against military discipline and the Roman laws, but he

knew also how brave he was, and the good services he had done;

therefore, in consideration of them, he was willing to forgive him his

fault; but to keep him in good order, he was resolved to place one over

him to be his keeper, who should be accountable for his good behavior.

Having said this, he produced the woman, and told the soldier, terrified

and amazed at the adventure, "This is the person who must answer for

you; and by your future behavior we shall see whether your night rambles

were on account of love, or for any other worse design."

Another passage there was, something of the same kind, which gained him

possession of Tarentum.  There was a young Tarentine in the army that

had a sister in Tarentum, then in possession of the enemy, who entirely

loved her brother, and wholly depended upon him.  He, being informed

that a certain Bruttian, whom Hannibal had made a commander of the

garrison, was deeply in love with his sister, conceived hopes that he

might possibly turn it to the advantage of the Romans.  And having first

communicated his design to Fabius, he left the army as a deserter in

show, and went over to Tarentum.  The first days passed, and the

Bruttian abstained from visiting the sister; for neither of them knew

that the brother had notice of the amour between them.  The young

Tarentine, however, took an occasion to tell his sister how he had heard

that a man of station and authority had made his addresses to her; and

desired her, therefore, to tell him who it was; "for," said he, "if he

be a man that has bravery and reputation, it matters not what countryman

he is, since at this time the sword mingles all nations, and makes them

equal; compulsion makes all things honorable; and in a time when right

is weak, we may be thankful if might assumes a form of gentleness."

Upon this the woman sends for her friend, and makes the brother and him

acquainted; and whereas she henceforth showed more countenance to her

lover than formerly, in the same degrees that her kindness increased,

his friendship, also, with the brother advanced.  So that at last our

Tarentine thought this Bruttian officer well enough prepared to receive

the offers he had to make him; and that it would be easy for a mercenary

man, who was in love, to accept, upon the terms proposed, the large

rewards promised by Fabius.  In conclusion, the bargain was struck, and

the promise made of delivering the town.  This is the common tradition,

though some relate the story otherwise, and say, that this woman, by

whom the Bruttian was inveigled, to betray the town, was not a native of

Tarentum, but a Bruttian born, and was kept by Fabius as his concubine;

and being a countrywoman and an acquaintance of the Bruttian governor,

he privately sent her to him to corrupt him.

Whilst these matters were thus in process, to draw off Hannibal from

scenting the design, Fabius sends orders to the garrison in Rhegium,

that they should waste and spoil the Bruttian country, and should also

lay siege to Caulonia, and storm the place with all their might.  These

were a body of eight thousand men, the worst of the Roman army, who had

most of them been runaways, and had been brought home by Marcellus from

Sicily, in dishonor, so that the loss of them would not be any great

grief to the Romans.  Fabius, therefore, threw out these men as a bait

for Hannibal, to divert him from Tarentum; who instantly caught at it,

and led his forces to Caulonia; in the meantime, Fabius sat down before

Tarentum.  On the sixth day of the siege, the young Tarentine slips by

night out of the town, and, having carefully observed the place where

the Bruttian commander, according to agreement, was to admit the Romans,

gave an account of the whole matter to Fabius; who thought it not safe

to rely wholly upon the plot, but, while proceeding with secrecy to the

post, gave order for a general assault to be made on the other side of

the town, both by land and sea.  This being accordingly executed, while

the Tarentines hurried to defend the town on the side attacked, Fabius

received the signal from the Bruttian, scaled the walls, and entered the

town unopposed.

Here, we must confess, ambition seems to have overcome him.  To make it

appear to the world that he had taken Tarentum by force and his own

prowess, and not by treachery, he commanded his men to kill the

Bruttians before all others; yet he did not succeed in establishing the

impression he desired, but merely gained the character of perfidy and

cruelty.  Many of the Tarentines were also killed, and thirty thousand

of them were sold for slaves; the army had the plunder of the town, and

there was brought into the treasury three thousand talents.  Whilst they

were carrying off everything else as plunder, the officer who took the

inventory asked what should be done with their gods, meaning the

pictures and statues; Fabius answered, "Let us leave their angry gods to

the Tarentines."  Nevertheless, he removed the colossal statue of

Hercules, and had it set up in the capitol, with one of himself on

horseback, in brass, near it; proceedings very different from those of

Marcellus on a like occasion, and which, indeed, very much set off in

the eyes of the world his clemency and humanity, as appears in the

account of his life.

Hannibal, it is said, was within five miles of Tarentum, when he was

informed that the town was taken.  He said openly, "Rome, then, has also

got a Hannibal; as we won Tarentum, so have we lost it."  And, in

private with some of his confidants, he told them, for the first time,

that he always thought it difficult, but now he held it impossible, with

the forces he then had, to master Italy.

Upon this success, Fabius had a triumph decreed him at Rome, much more

splendid than his first; they looked upon him now as a champion who had

learned to cope with his antagonist, and could now easily foil his arts

and prove his best skill ineffectual.  And, indeed, the army of Hannibal

was at this time partly worn away with continual action, and partly

weakened and become dissolute with overabundance and luxury.  Marcus

Livius, who was governor of Tarentum when it was betrayed to Hannibal,

and then retired into the citadel, which he kept till the town was

retaken, was annoyed at these honors and distinctions, and, on one

occasion, openly declared in the senate, that by his resistance, more

than by any action of Fabius, Tarentum had been recovered; on which

Fabius laughingly replied:  "You say very true, for if Marcus Livius had

not lost Tarentum, Fabius Maximus had never recovered it."  The people,

amongst other marks of gratitude, gave his son the consulship of the

next year; shortly after whose entrance upon his office, there being

some business on foot about provision for the war, his father, either by

reason of age and infirmity, or perhaps out of design to try his son,

came up to him on horseback.  While he was still at a distance, the

young consul observed it, and bade one of his lictors command his father

to alight, and tell him that, if be had any business with the consul, he

should come on foot.  The standers by seemed offended at the

imperiousness of the son towards a father so venerable for his age and

his authority, and turned their eyes in silence towards Fabius.  He,

however, instantly alighted from his horse, and with open arms came up,

almost running, and embraced his son, saying, "Yes, my son, you do well,

and understand well what authority you have received, and over whom you

are to use it.  This was the way by which we and our forefathers

advanced the dignity of Rome, preferring ever her honor and service to

our own fathers and children."

And, in fact, it is told that the great-grandfather of our Fabius, who

was undoubtedly the greatest man of Rome in his time, both in reputation

and authority, who had been five times consul, and had been honored with

several triumphs for victories obtained by him, took pleasure in serving

as lieutenant under his own son, when he went as consul to his command.

And when afterwards his son had a triumph bestowed upon him for his good

service, the old man followed, on horseback, his triumphant chariot, as

one of his attendants; and made it his glory, that while he really was,

and was acknowledged to be, the greatest man in Rome, and held a

father's full power over his son, he yet submitted himself to the laws

and the magistrate.

But the praises of our Fabius are not bounded here.  He afterwards lost

this son, and was remarkable for bearing the loss with the moderation

becoming a pious father and a wise man, and, as it was the custom

amongst the Romans, upon the death of any illustrious person, to have a

funeral oration recited by some of the nearest relations, he took upon

himself that office, and delivered a speech in the forum, which he

committed afterwards to writing.

After Cornelius Scipio, who was sent into Spain, had driven the

Carthaginians, defeated by him in many battles, out of the country, and

had gained over to Rome many towns and nations with large resources, he

was received at his coming home with unexampled joy and acclamation of

the people; who, to show their gratitude, elected him consul for the

year ensuing.  Knowing what high expectation they had of him, he thought

the occupation of contesting Italy with Hannibal a mere old man's

employment, and proposed no less a task to himself than to make Carthage

the seat of the war, fill Africa with arms and devastation, and so

oblige Hannibal, instead of invading the countries of others, to draw

back and defend his own.  And to this end he proceeded to exert all the

influence he had with the people.  Fabius, on the other side, opposed

the undertaking with all his might, alarming the city, and telling them

that nothing but the temerity of a hot young man could inspire them with

such dangerous counsels, and sparing no means, by word or deed, to

prevent it.  He prevailed with the senate to espouse his sentiments; but

the common people thought that he envied the fame of Scipio, and that he

was afraid lest this young conqueror should achieve some great and noble

exploit, and have the glory, perhaps, of driving Hannibal out of Italy,

or even of ending the war, which had for so many years continued and

been protracted under his management.

To say the truth, when Fabius first opposed this project of Scipio, he

probably did it out of caution and prudence, in consideration only of

the public safety, and of the danger which the commonwealth might incur;

but when he found Scipio every day increasing in the esteem of the

people, rivalry and ambition led him further, and made him violent and

personal in his opposition.  For he even applied to Crassus, the

colleague of Scipio, and urged him not to yield the command to Scipio,

but that, if his inclinations were for it, he should himself in person

lead the army to Carthage.  He also hindered the giving money to Scipio

for the war; so that he was forced to raise it upon his own credit and

interest from the cities of Etruria, which were extremely attached to

him.  On the other side, Crassus would not stir against him, nor remove

out of Italy, being, in his own nature, averse to all contention, and

also having, by his office of high priest, religious duties to retain

him.  Fabius, therefore, tried other ways to oppose the design; he

impeded the levies, and he declaimed, both in the senate and to the

people, that Scipio was not only himself flying from Hannibal, but was

also endeavoring to drain Italy of all its forces, and to spirit away

the youth of the country to a foreign war, leaving behind them their

parents, wives, and children, and the city itself, a defenseless prey to

the conquering and undefeated enemy at their doors.  With this he so far

alarmed the people, that at last they would only allow Scipio for the

war the legions which were in Sicily, and three hundred, whom he

particularly trusted, of those men who had served with him in Spain.  In

these transactions, Fabius seems to have followed the dictates of his

own wary temper.

But, after that Scipio was gone over into Africa, when news almost

immediately came to Rome of wonderful exploits and victories, of which

the fame was confirmed by the spoils he sent home; of a Numidian king

taken prisoner; of a vast slaughter of their men; of two camps of the

enemy burnt and destroyed, and in them a great quantity of arms and

horses; and when, hereupon, the Carthaginians were compelled to send

envoys to Hannibal to call him home, and leave his idle hopes in Italy,

to defend Carthage; when, for such eminent and transcending services,

the whole people of Rome cried up and extolled the actions of Scipio;

even then, Fabius contended that a successor should be sent in his

place, alleging for it only the old reason of the mutability of fortune,

as if she would be weary of long favoring the same person.  With this

language many did begin to feel offended; it seemed to be morosity and

ill-will, the pusillanimity of old age, or a fear, that had now become

exaggerated, of the skill of Hannibal.  Nay, when Hannibal had put his

army on shipboard, and taken his leave of Italy, Fabius still could not

forbear to oppose and disturb the universal joy of Rome, expressing his

fears and apprehensions, telling them that the commonwealth was never in

more danger than now, and that Hannibal was a more formidable enemy

under the walls of Carthage than ever he had been in Italy; that it

would be fatal to Rome, whenever Scipio should encounter his victorious

army, still warm with the blood of so many Roman generals, dictators,

and consuls slain.  And the people were, in some degree, startled with

these declamations, and were brought to believe, that the further off

Hannibal was, the nearer was their danger.  Scipio, however, shortly

afterwards fought Hannibal, and utterly defeated him, humbled the pride

of Carthage beneath his feet, gave his countrymen joy and exultation

beyond all their hopes, and

"Long shaken on the seas restored the state."

Fabius Maximus, however, did not live to see the prosperous end of this

war, and the final overthrow of Hannibal, nor to rejoice in the

reestablished happiness and security of the commonwealth; for about the

time that Hannibal left Italy, he fell sick and died.  At Thebes,

Epaminondas died so poor that he was buried at the public charge; one

small iron coin was all, it is said, that was found in his house.

Fabius did not need this, but the people, as a mark of their affection,

defrayed the expenses of his funeral by a private contribution from each

citizen of the smallest piece of coin; thus owning him their common

father, and making his end no less honorable than his life.

COMPARISON OF PERICLES WITH FABIUS

We have here had two lives rich in examples, both of civil and military

excellence.  Let us first compare the two men in their warlike capacity.

Pericles presided in his commonwealth when it was in its most

flourishing and opulent condition, great and growing in power; so that

it may be thought it was rather the common success and fortune that kept

him from any fall or disaster.  But the task of Fabius, who undertook

the government in the worst and most difficult times, was not to

preserve and maintain the well-established felicity of a prosperous

state, but to raise and uphold a sinking and ruinous commonwealth.

Besides, the victories of Cimon, the trophies of Myronides and

Leocrates, with the many famous exploits of Tolmides, were employed by

Pericles rather to fill the city with festive entertainments and

solemnities than to enlarge and secure its empire.  Whereas Fabius, when

he took upon him the government, had the frightful object before his

eyes of Roman armies destroyed, of their generals and consuls slain, of

lakes and plains and forests strewed with the dead bodies, and rivers

stained with the blood of his fellow-citizens; and yet, with his mature

and solid cousels, with the firmness of his resolution, he, as it were,

put his shoulder to the falling commonwealth, and kept it up from

foundering through the failings and weakness of others.  Perhaps it may

be more easy to govern a city broken and tamed with calamities and

adversity, and compelled by danger and necessity to listen to wisdom,

than to set a bridle on wantonness and temerity, and rule a people

pampered and restive with long prosperity as were the Athenians when

Pericles held the reins of government.  But then again, not to be

daunted nor discomposed with the vast heap of calamities under which the

people of Rome at that time groaned and succumbed, argues a courage in

Fabius and a strength of purpose more than ordinary.

We may set Tarentum retaken against Samos won by Pericles, and the

conquest of Euboea we may well balance with the towns of Campania;

though Capua itself was reduced by the consuls Fulvius and Appius.  I do

not find that Fabius won any set battle but that against the Ligurians,

for which he had his triumph; whereas Pericles erected nine trophies for

as many victories obtained by land and by sea.  But no action of

Pericles can be compared to that memorable rescue of Minucius, when

Fabius redeemed both him and his army from utter destruction; a noble

act, combining the highest valor, wisdom, and humanity.  On the other

side, it does not appear that Pericles was ever so overreached as Fabius

was by Hannibal with his flaming oxen.  His enemy there had, without his

agency, put himself accidentally into his power, yet Fabius let him slip

in the night, and, when day came, was worsted by him, was anticipated in

the moment of success, and mastered by his prisoner.  If it is the part

of a good general, not only to provide for the present, but also to have

a clear foresight of things to come, in this point Pericles is the

superior; for he admonished the Athenians, and told them beforehand the

ruin the war would bring upon them, by their grasping more than they

were able to manage.  But Fabius was not so good a prophet, when he

denounced to the Romans that the undertaking of Scipio would be the

destruction of the commonwealth.  So that Pericles was a good prophet of

bad success, and Fabius was a bad prophet of success that was good.

And, indeed, to lose an advantage through diffidence is no less blamable

in a general than to fall into danger for want of foresight; for both

these faults, though of a contrary nature, spring from the same root,

want of judgment and experience.

As for their civil policy, it is imputed to Pericles that he occasioned

the war, since no terms of peace, offered by the Lacedaemonians, would

content him.  It is true, I presume, that Fabius, also, was not for

yielding any point to the Carthaginians, but was ready to hazard all,

rather than lessen the empire of Rome.  The mildness of Fabius towards

his colleague Minucius does, by way of comparison, rebuke and condemn

the exertions of Pericles to banish Cimon and Thucydides, noble,

aristocratic men, who by his means suffered ostracism.  The authority of

Pericles in Athens was much greater than that of Fabius in Rome.  Hence

it was more easy for him to prevent miscarriages arising from the

mistakes and insufficiency of other officers; only Tolmides broke loose

from him, and, contrary to his persuasions, unadvisedly fought with the

Boeotians, and was slain.  The greatness of his influence made all

others submit and conform themselves to his judgment.  Whereas Fabius,

sure and unerring himself, for want of that general power, had not the

means to obviate the miscarriages of others; but it had been happy for

the Romans if his authority had been greater, for so, we may presume,

their disasters had been fewer.

As to liberality and public spirit, Pericles was eminent in never taking

any gifts, and Fabius, for giving his own money to ransom his soldiers,

though the sum did not exceed six talents.  Than Pericles, meantime, no

man had ever greater opportunities to enrich himself, having had

presents offered him from so many kings and princes and allies, yet no

man was ever more free from corruption.  And for the beauty and

magnificence of temples and public edifices with which he adorned his

country, it must be confessed, that all the ornaments and structures of

Rome, to the time of the Caesars, had nothing to compare, either in

greatness of design or of expense, with the luster of those which

Pericles only erected at Athens.

ALCIBIADES

Alcibiades, as it is supposed, was anciently descended from Eurysaces,

the son of Ajax, by his father's side; and by his mother's side from

Alcmaeon.  Dinomache, his mother, was the daughter of Megacles.  His

father Clinias, having fitted out a galley at his own expense, gained

great honor in the sea-fight at Artemisium, and was afterwards slain in

the battle of Coronea, fighting against the Boeotians.  Pericles and

Ariphron, the sons of Xanthippus, nearly related to him, became the

guardians of Alcibiades.  It has been said not untruly that the

friendship which Socrates felt for him has much contributed to his fame;

and certain it is, that, though we have no account from any writer

concerning the mother of Nicias or Demosthenes, of Lamachus or Phormion,

of Thrasybulus or Theramenes, notwithstanding these were all illustrious

men of the same period, yet we know even the nurse of Alcibiades, that

her country was Lacedaemon, and her name Amycla; and that Zopyrus was

his teacher and attendant; the one being recorded by Antisthenes, and

the other by Plato.

It is not, perhaps, material to say anything of the beauty of

Alcibiades, only that it bloomed with him in all the ages of his life,

in his infancy, in his youth, and in his manhood; and, in the peculiar

character becoming to each of these periods, gave him, in every one of

them, a grace and a charm.  What Euripides says, that

"Of all fair things the autumn, too, is fair,"

is by no means universally true.  But it happened so with Alcibiades,

amongst few others, by reason of his happy constitution and natural

vigor of body.  It is said that his lisping, when he spoke, became him

well, and gave a grace and persuasiveness to his rapid speech.

Aristophanes takes notice of it in the verses in which he jests at

Theorus; "How like a colax he is," says Alcibiades, meaning a corax;

on which it is remarked,

"How very happily he lisped the truth."

Archippus also alludes to it in a passage where he ridicules the son of

Alcibiades;

"That people may believe him like his father,

He walks like one dissolved in luxury,

Lets his robe trail behind him on the ground,

Carelessly leans his head, and in his talk affects to lisp."

His conduct displayed many great inconsistencies and variations, not

unnaturally, in accordance with the many and wonderful vicissitudes of

his fortunes; but among the many strong passions of his real character,

the one most prevailing of all was his ambition and desire of

superiority, which appears in several anecdotes told of his sayings

whilst he was a child.  Once being hard pressed in wrestling, and

fearing to be thrown, he got the hand of his antagonist to his mouth,

and bit it with all his force; and when the other loosed his hold

presently, and said, "You bite, Alcibiades, like a woman."  "No,"

replied he, "like a lion."  Another time as he played at dice in the

street, being then but a child, a loaded cart came that way, when it was

his turn to throw; at first he called to the driver to stop, because he

was to throw in the way over which the cart was to pass; but the man

giving him no attention and driving on, when the rest of the boys

divided and gave way, Alcibiades threw himself on his face before the

cart, and, stretching himself out, bade the carter pass on now if he

would; which so startled the man, that he put back his horses, while all

that saw it were terrified, and, crying out, ran to assist Alcibiades.

When he began to study, he obeyed all his other masters fairly well, but

refused to learn upon the flute, as a sordid thing, and not becoming a

free citizen; saying, that to play on the lute or the harp does not in

any way disfigure a man's body or face, but one is hardly to be known by

the most intimate friends, when playing on the flute.  Besides, one who

plays on the harp may speak or sing at the same time; but the use of the

flute stops the mouth, intercepts the voice, and prevents all

articulation.  "Therefore," said he, "let the Theban youths pipe, who do

not know how to speak, but we Athenians, as our ancestors have told us,

have Minerva for our patroness, and Apollo for our protector, one of

whom threw away the flute, and the other stripped the Flute-player of

his skin."  Thus, between raillery and good earnest, Alcibiades kept not

only himself but others from learning, as it presently became the talk

of the young boys, how Alcibiades despised playing on the flute, and

ridiculed those who studied it.  In consequence of which, it ceased to

be reckoned amongst the liberal accomplishments, and became generally

neglected.

It is stated in the invective which Antiphon wrote against Alcibiades,

that once, when he was a boy, he ran away to the house of Democrates,

one of those who made a favorite of him, and that Ariphron had

determined to cause proclamation to be made for him, had not Pericles

diverted him from it, by saying, that if he were dead, the proclaiming

of him could only cause it to be discovered one day sooner, and if he

were safe, it would be a reproach to him as long as he lived.  Antiphon

also says, that he killed one of his own servants with the blow of a

staff in Sibyrtius's wrestling ground.  But it is unreasonable to give

credit to all that is objected by an enemy, who makes open profession of

his design to defame him.

It was manifest that the many well-born persons who were continually

seeking his company, and making their court to him, were attracted and

captivated by his brilliant and extraordinary beauty only.  But the

affection which Socrates entertained for him is a great evidence of the

natural noble qualities and good disposition of the boy, which Socrates,

indeed, detected both in and under his personal beauty; and, fearing

that his wealth and station, and the great number both of strangers and

Athenians who flattered and caressed him, might at last corrupt him,

resolved, if possible, to interpose, and preserve so hopeful a plant

from perishing in the flower, before its fruit came to perfection.  For

never did fortune surround and enclose a man with so many of those

things which we vulgarly call goods, or so protect him from every weapon

of philosophy, and fence him from every access of free and searching

words, as she did Alcibiades; who, from the beginning, was exposed to

the flatteries of those who sought merely his gratification, such as

might well unnerve him, and indispose him to listen to any real adviser

or instructor.  Yet such was the happiness of his genius, that he

discerned Socrates from the rest, and admitted him, whilst he drove away

the wealthy and the noble who made court to him.  And, in a little time,

they grew intimate, and Alcibiades, listening now to language entirely

free from every thought of unmanly fondness and silly displays of

affection, finding himself with one who sought to lay open to him the

deficiencies of his mind, and repress his vain and foolish arrogance,

"Dropped like the craven cock his conquered wing."

He esteemed these endeavors of Socrates as most truly a means which the

gods made use of for the care and preservation of youth, and began to

think meanly of himself, and to admire him; to be pleased with his

kindness, and to stand in awe of his virtue; and, unawares to himself,

there became formed in his mind that reflex image and reciprocation of

Love, or Anteros, that Plato talks of.  It was a matter of general

wonder, when people saw him joining Socrates in his meals and his

exercises, living with him in the same tent, whilst he was reserved and

rough to all others who made their addresses to him, and acted, indeed,

with great insolence to some of them.  As in particular to Anytus, the

son of Anthemion, one who was very fond of him, and invited him to an

entertainment which he had prepared for some strangers.  Alcibiades

refused the invitation; but, having drunk to excess at his own house

with some of his companions, went thither with them to play some frolic;

and, standing at the door of the room where the guests were enjoying

themselves, and seeing the tables covered with gold and silver cups, he

commanded his servants to take away the one half of them, and carry them

to his own house; and then, disdaining so much as to enter into the room

himself, as soon as he had done this, went away.  The company was

indignant, and exclaimed at his rude and insulting conduct; Anytus,

however, said, on the contrary he had shown great consideration and

tenderness in taking only a part, when he might have taken all.

He behaved in the same manner to all others who courted him, except only

one stranger, who, as the story is told, having but a small estate, sold

it all for about a hundred staters, which he presented to Alcibiades,

and besought him to accept.  Alcibiades, smiling and well pleased at the

thing, invited him to supper, and, after a very kind entertainment, gave

him his gold again, requiring him, moreover, not to fail to be present

the next day, when the public revenue was offered to farm, and to outbid

all others.  The man would have excused himself, because the contract

was so large, and would cost many talents; but Alcibiades, who had at

that time a private pique against the existing farmers of the revenue,

threatened to have him beaten if he refused.  The next morning, the

stranger, coming to the marketplace, offered a talent more than the

existing rate; upon which the farmers, enraged and consulting together,

called upon him to name his sureties, concluding that he could find

none.  The poor man, being startled at the proposal, began to retire;

but Alcibiades, standing at a distance, cried out to the magistrates,

"Set my name down, he is a friend of mine; I will be security for him."

When the other bidders heard this, they perceived that all their

contrivance was defeated; for their way was, with the profits of the

second year to pay the rent for the year preceding; so that, not seeing

any other way to extricate themselves out of the difficulty, they began

to entreat the stranger, and offered him a sum of money.  Alcibiades

would not suffer him to accept of less than a talent; but when that was

paid down, he commanded him to relinquish the bargain, having by this

device relieved his necessity.

Though Socrates had many and powerful rivals, yet the natural good

qualities of Alcibiades gave his affection the mastery.  His words

overcame him so much, as to draw tears from his eyes, and to disturb his

very soul.  Yet sometimes he would abandon himself to flatterers, when

they proposed to him varieties of pleasure, and would desert Socrates;

who, then, would pursue him, as if he had been a fugitive slave.  He

despised everyone else, and had no reverence or awe for any but him.

Cleanthes the philosopher; speaking of one to whom he was attached, says

his only hold on him was by his ears, while his rivals had all the

others offered them; and there is no question that Alcibiades was very

easily caught by pleasures; and the expression used by Thucydides about

the excesses of his habitual course of living gives occasion to believe

so.  But those who endeavored to corrupt Alcibiades, took advantage

chiefly of his vanity and ambition, and thrust him on unseasonably to

undertake great enterprises, persuading him, that as soon as he began to

concern himself in public affairs, he would not only obscure the rest of

the generals and statesmen, but outdo the authority and the reputation

which Pericles himself had gained in Greece.  But in the same manner as

iron which is softened by the fire grows hard with the cold, and all its

parts are closed again; so, as often as Socrates observed Alcibiades to

be misled by luxury or pride, he reduced and corrected him by his

addresses, and made him humble and modest, by showing him in how many

things he was deficient, and how very far from perfection in virtue.

When he was past his childhood, he went once to a grammar-school, and

asked the master for one of Homer's books; and he making answer that he

had nothing of Homer's, Alcibiades gave him a blow with his fist, and

went away.  Another schoolmaster telling him that he had Homer corrected

by himself; "How," said Alcibiades, "and do you employ your time in

teaching children to read?  You, who are able to amend Homer, may well

undertake to instruct men."  Being once desirous to speak with Pericles,

he went to his house and was told there that he was not at leisure, but

busied in considering how to give up his accounts to the Athenians;

Alcibiades, as he went away, said, "It were better for him to consider

how he might avoid giving up his accounts at all."

Whilst he was very young, he was a soldier in the expedition against

Potidaea, where Socrates lodged in the same tent with him, and stood

next him in battle.  Once there happened a sharp skirmish, in which

they both behaved with signal bravery; but Alcibiades receiving a wound,

Socrates threw himself before him to defend him, and beyond any question

saved him and his arms from the enemy, and so in all justice might have

challenged the prize of valor.  But the generals appearing eager to

adjudge the honor to Alcibiades, because of his rank, Socrates, who

desired to increase his thirst after glory of a noble kind, was the

first to give evidence for him, and pressed them to crown him, and to

decree to him the complete suit of armor.  Afterwards, in the battle of

Delium, when the Athenians were routed and Socrates with a few others

was retreating on foot, Alcibiades, who was on horseback, observing it,

would not pass on, but stayed to shelter him from the danger, and

brought him safe off, though the enemy pressed hard upon them, and cut

off many.  But this happened some time after.

He gave a box on the ear to Hipponicus, the father of Callias, whose

birth and wealth made him a person of great influence and repute.  And

this he did unprovoked by any passion or quarrel between them, but only

because, in a frolic, he had agreed with his companions to do it.

People were justly offended at this insolence, when it became known

through the city; but early the next morning, Alcibiades went to his

house and knocked at the door, and, being admitted to him, took off his

outer garment, and, presenting his naked body, desired him to scourge

and chastise him as he pleased.  Upon this Hipponicus forgot all his

resentment, and not only pardoned him, but soon after gave him his

daughter Hipparete in marriage.  Some say that it was not Hipponicus,

but his son Callias, who gave Hipparete to Alcibiades, together with a

portion of ten talents, and that after, when she had a child, Alcibiades

forced him to give ten talents more, upon pretense that such was the

agreement if she brought him any children.  Afterwards, Callias, for

fear of coming to his death by his means, declared, in a full assembly

of the people, that if he should happen to die without children, the

state should inherit his house and all his goods.  Hipparete was a

virtuous and dutiful wife, but, at last, growing impatient of the

outrages done to her by her husband's continual entertaining of

courtesans, as well strangers as Athenians, she departed from him and

retired to her brother's house.  Alcibiades seemed not at all concerned

at this, and lived on still in the same luxury; but the law requiring

that she should deliver to the archon in person, and not by proxy, the

instrument by which she claimed a divorce, when, in obedience to the

law, she presented herself before him to perform this, Alcibiades came

in, caught her up, and carried her home through the marketplace, no one

daring to oppose him, nor to take her from him.  She continued with him

till her death, which happened not long after, when Alcibiades had gone

to Ephesus.  Nor is this violence to be thought so very enormous or

unmanly.  For the law, in making her who desires to be divorced appear

in public, seems to design to give her husband an opportunity of

treating with her, and of endeavoring to retain her.

Alcibiades had a dog which cost him seventy minas, and was a very large

one, and very handsome.  His tail, which was his principal ornament, he

caused to be cut off, and his acquaintance exclaiming at him for it, and

telling him that all Athens was sorry for the dog, and cried out upon

him for this action, he laughed, and said, "Just what I wanted has

happened, then.  I wished the Athenians to talk about this, that they

might not say something worse of me."

It is said that the first time he came into the assembly was upon

occasion of a largess of money which he made to the people.  This was

not done by design, but as he passed along he heard a shout, and

inquiring the cause, and having learned that there was a donative making

to the people, he went in amongst them and gave money also.  The

multitude thereupon applauding him, and shouting, he was so transported

at it, that he forgot a quail which he had under his robe, and the bird,

being frighted with the noise, flew off; upon which the people made

louder acclamations than before, and many of them started up to pursue

the bird; and one Antiochus, a pilot, caught it and restored it to him,

for which he was ever after a favorite with Alcibiades.

He had great advantages for entering public life; his noble birth, his

riches, the personal courage he had shown in divers battles, and the

multitude of his friends and dependents, threw open, so to say, folding

doors for his admittance.  But he did not consent to let his power with

the people rest on any thing, rather than on his own gift of eloquence.

That he was a master in the art of speaking, the comic poets bear him

witness; and the most eloquent of public speakers, in his oration

against Midias, allows that Alcibiades, among other perfections, was a

most accomplished orator.  If, however, we give credit to Theophrastus,

who of all philosophers was the most curious inquirer, and the greatest

lover of history, we are to understand that Alcibiades had the highest

capacity for inventing, for discerning what was the right thing to be

said for any purpose, and on any occasion; but, aiming not only at

saying what was required, but also at saying it well, in respect, that

is, of words and phrases, when these did not readily occur, he would

often pause in the middle of his discourse for want of the apt word, and

would be silent and stop till he could recollect himself, and had

considered what to say.

His expenses in horses kept for the public games, and in the number of

his chariots, were matter of great observation; never did anyone but

he, either private person or king, send seven chariots to the Olympic

games.  And to have carried away at once the first, the second, and the

fourth prize, as Thucydides says, or the third, as Euripides relates it,

outdoes far away every distinction that ever was known or thought of in

that kind.  Euripides celebrates his success in this manner:—

"—But my song to you, Son of Clinias, is due.

Victory is noble; how much more

To do as never Greek before;

To obtain in the great chariot race

The first, the second, and third place;

With easy step advanced to fame,

To bid the herald three times claim

The olive for one victor's name."

The emulation displayed by the deputations of various states, in the

presents which they made to him, rendered this success yet more

illustrious.  The Ephesians erected a tent for him, adorned

magnificently; the city of Chios furnished him with provender for his

horses and with great numbers of beasts for sacrifice; and the Lesbians

sent him wine and other provisions for the many great entertainments

which he made.  Yet in the midst of all this he escaped not without

censure, occasioned either by the ill-nature of his enemies or by his

own misconduct.  For it is said, that one Diomedes, all Athenian, a

worthy man and a friend to Alcibiades, passionately desiring to obtain

the victory at the Olympic games, and having heard much of a chariot

which belonged to the state at Argos, where he knew that Alcibiades had

great power and many friends, prevailed with him to undertake to buy the

chariot.  Alcibiades did indeed buy it, but then claimed it for his own,

leaving Diomedes to rage at him, and to call upon the gods and men to

bear witness to the injustice.  It would seem there was a suit at law

commenced upon this occasion, and there is yet extant an oration

concerning the chariot, written by Isocrates in defense of the son of

Alcibiades.  But the plaintiff in this action is named Tisias, and not

Diomedes.

As soon as he began to intermeddle in the government, which was when he

was very young, he quickly lessened the credit of all who aspired to the

confidence of the people, except Phaeax, the son of Erasistratus, and

Nicias, the son of Niceratus, who alone could contest it with him.

Nicias was arrived at a mature age, and was esteemed their first

general.  Phaeax was but a rising statesman like Alcibiades; he was

descended from noble ancestors, but was his inferior, as in many other

things, so, principally, in eloquence.  He possessed rather the art of

persuading in private conversation than of debate before the people, and

was, as Eupolis said of him,

"The best of talkers, and of speakers worst."

There is extant an oration written by Phaeax against Alcibiades, in

which, amongst other things, it is said, that Alcibiades made daily use

at his table of many gold and silver vessels, which belonged to the

commonwealth, as if they had been his own.

There was a certain Hyperbolus, of the township of Perithoedae, whom

Thucydides also speaks of as a man of bad character, a general butt for

the mockery of all the comic writers of the time, but quite unconcerned

at the worst things they could say, and, being careless of glory, also

insensible of shame; a temper which some people call boldness and

courage, whereas it is indeed impudence and recklessness.  He was liked

by nobody, yet the people made frequent use of him, when they had a mind

to disgrace or calumniate any persons in authority.  At this time, the

people, by his persuasions, were ready to proceed to pronounce the

sentence of ten years' banishment, called ostracism.  This they made use

of to humiliate and drive out of the city such citizens as outdid the

rest in credit and power, indulging not so much perhaps their

apprehensions as their jealousies in this way.  And when, at this time,

there was no doubt but that the ostracism would fall upon one of those

three, Alcibiades contrived to form a coalition of parties, and,

communicating his project to Nicias, turned the sentence upon Hyperbolus

himself.  Others say, that it was not with Nicias, but Phaeax, that he

consulted, and, by help of his party, procured the banishment of

Hyperbolus, when he suspected nothing less.  For, before that time, no

mean or obscure person had ever fallen under that punishment, so that

Plato, the comic poet, speaking of Hyperbolus, might well say,

"The man deserved the fate; deny 't who can?

Yes, but the fate did not deserve the man;

Not for the like of him and his slave-brands

Did Athens put the sherd into our hands."

But we have given elsewhere a fuller statement of what is known to us of

the matter.

Alcibiades was not less disturbed at the distinctions which Nicias

gained amongst the enemies of Athens, than at the honors which the

Athenians themselves paid to him.  For though Alcibiades was the proper

appointed person to receive all Lacedaemonians when they came to

Athens, and had taken particular care of those that were made prisoners

at Pylos, yet, after they had obtained the peace and restitution of the

captives, by the procurement chiefly of Nicias, they paid him very

special attentions.  And it was commonly said in Greece, that the war

was begun by Pericles, and that Nicias made an end of it, and the peace

was generally called the peace of Nicias.  Alcibiades was extremely

annoyed at this, and, being full of envy, set himself to break the

league.  First, therefore, observing that the Argives, as well out of

fear as hatred to the Lacedaemonians, sought for protection against

them, he gave them a secret assurance of alliance with Athens.  And

communicating, as well in person as by letters, with the chief advisers

of the people there, he encouraged them not to fear the Lacedaemonians,

nor make concessions to them, but to wait a little, and keep their eyes

on the Athenians, who, already, were all but sorry they had made peace,

and would soon give it up.  And, afterwards, when the Lacedaemonians had

made a league with the Boeotians, and had not delivered up Panactum

entire, as they ought to have done by the treaty, but only after first

destroying it, which gave great offense to the people of Athens,

Alcibiades laid hold of that opportunity to exasperate them more highly.

He exclaimed fiercely against Nicias, and accused him of many things,

which seemed probable enough:  as that, when he was general, he made no

attempt himself to capture their enemies that were shut up in the isle

of Sphacteria, but, when they were afterwards made prisoners by others,

he procured their release and sent them back to the Lacedaemonians, only

to get favor with them; that he would not make use of his credit with

them, to prevent their entering into this confederacy with the Boeotians

and Corinthians, and yet, on the other side, that he sought to stand in

the way of those Greeks who were inclined to make an alliance and

friendship with Athens, if the Lacedaemonians did not like it.

It happened, at the very time when Nicias was by these arts brought into

disgrace with the people, that ambassadors arrived from Lacedaemon, who,

at their first coming, said what seemed very satisfactory, declaring

that they had full powers to arrange all matters in dispute upon fair

and equal terms.  The council received their propositions, and the

people was to assemble on the morrow to give them audience.  Alcibiades

grew very apprehensive of this, and contrived to gain a secret

conference with the ambassadors.  When they were met, he said:  "What is

it you intend, you men of Sparta?  Can you be ignorant that the council

always act with moderation and respect towards ambassadors, but that the

people are full of ambition and great designs?  So that, if you let them

know what full powers your commission gives you, they will urge and

press you to unreasonable conditions.  Quit therefore, this indiscreet

simplicity, if you expect to obtain equal terms from the Athenians, and

would not have things extorted from you contrary to your inclinations,

and begin to treat with the people upon some reasonable articles, not

avowing yourselves plenipotentiaries; and I will be ready to assist you,

out of good-will to the Lacedaemonians."  When he had said thus, he gave

them his oath for the performance of what he promised, and by this way

drew them from Nicias to rely entirely upon himself, and left them full

of admiration of the discernment and sagacity they had seen in him.  The

next day, when the people were assembled and the ambassadors introduced,

Alcibiades, with great apparent courtesy, demanded of them, With what

powers they were come? They made answer that they were not come as

plenipotentiaries.

Instantly upon that, Alcibiades, with a loud voice, as though he had

received and not done the wrong, began to call them dishonest

prevaricators, and to urge that such men could not possibly come with a

purpose to say or do anything that was sincere.  The council was

incensed, the people were in a rage, and Nicias, who knew nothing of the

deceit and the imposture, was in the greatest confusion, equally

surprised and ashamed at such a change in the men.  So thus the

Lacedaemonian ambassadors were utterly rejected, and Alcibiades was

declared general, who presently united the Argives, the Eleans, and the

people of Mantinea, into a confederacy with the Athenians.

No man commended the method by which Alcibiades effected all this, yet

it was a great political feat thus to divide and shake almost all

Peloponnesus, and to combine so many men in arms against the

Lacedaemonians in one day before Mantinea; and, moreover, to remove the

war and the danger so far from the frontier of the Athenians, that even

success would profit the enemy but little, should they be conquerors,

whereas, if they were defeated, Sparta itself was hardly safe.

After this battle at Mantinea, the select thousand of the army of the

Argives attempted to overthrow the government of the people in Argos,

and make themselves masters of the city; and the Lacedaemonians came to

their aid and abolished the democracy.  But the people took arms again,

and gained the advantage, and Alcibiades came in to their aid and

completed the victory, and persuaded them to build long walls, and by

that means to join their city to the sea, and so to bring it wholly

within the reach of the Athenian power.  To this purpose, he procured

them builders and masons from Athens, and displayed the greatest zeal

for their service, and gained no less honor and power to himself than to

the commonwealth of Athens.  He also persuaded the people of Patrae to

join their city to the sea, by building long walls; and when some one

told them, by way of warning, that the Athenians would swallow them up

at last Alcibiades made answer, "Possibly it may be so, but it will be

by little and little, and beginning at the feet, whereas the

Lacedaemonians will begin at the head and devour you all at once."  Nor

did he neglect either to advise the Athenians to look to their interests

by land, and often put the young men in mind of the oath which they had

made at Agraulos, to the effect that they would account wheat and

barley, and vines and olives, to be the limits of Attica; by which they

were taught to claim a title to all land that was cultivated and

productive.

But with all these words and deeds, and with all this sagacity and

eloquence, he intermingled exorbitant luxury and wantonness in his

eating and drinking and dissolute living; wore long purple robes like a

woman, which dragged after him as he went through the market-place;

caused the planks of his galley to be cut away, that so he might lie the

softer, his bed not being placed on the boards, but hanging upon girths.

His shield, again, which was richly gilded, had not the usual ensigns of

the Athenians, but a Cupid, holding a thunderbolt in his hand, was

painted upon it.  The sight of all this made the people of good repute

in the city feel disgust and abhorrence, and apprehension also, at his

free-living, and his contempt of law, as things monstrous in themselves,

and indicating designs of usurpation.  Aristophanes has well expressed

the people's feeling towards him:—

"They love, and hate, and cannot do without him."

And still more strongly, under a figurative expression,

"Best rear no lion in your state, 'tis true;

But treat him like a lion if you do."

The truth is, his liberalities, his public shows, and other munificence

to the people, which were such as nothing could exceed, the glory of his

ancestors, the force of his eloquence, the grace of his person, his

strength of body, joined with his great courage and knowledge in

military affairs, prevailed upon the Athenians to endure patiently his

excesses, to indulge many things to him, and, according to their habit,

to give the softest names to his faults, attributing them to youth and

good nature.  As, for example, he kept Agatharcus, the painter, a

prisoner till he had painted his whole house, but then dismissed him

with a reward.  He publicly struck Taureas, who exhibited certain shows

in opposition to him and contended with him for the prize.  He selected

for himself one of the captive Melian women, and had a son by her, whom

he took care to educate.  This the Athenians styled great humanity; and

yet he was the principal cause of the slaughter of all the inhabitants

of the isle of Melos who were of age to bear arms, having spoken in

favor of that decree.  When Aristophon, the painter, had drawn Nemea

sitting and holding Alcibiades in her arms, the multitude seemed pleased

with the piece, and thronged to see it, but older people disliked and

disrelished it, and looked on these things as enormities, and movements

towards tyranny.  So that it was not said amiss by Archestratus, that

Greece could not support a second Alcibiades.  Once, when Alcibiades

succeeded well in an oration which he made, and the whole assembly

attended upon him to do him honor, Timon the misanthrope did not pass

slightly by him, nor avoid him, as he did others, but purposely met him,

and, taking him by the hand, said, "Go on boldly, my son, and increase

in credit with the people, for thou wilt one day bring them calamities

enough."  Some that were present laughed at the saying, and some reviled

Timon; but there were others upon whom it made a deep impression; so

various was the judgment which was made of him, and so irregular his own

character.

The Athenians, even in the lifetime of Pericles, had already cast a

longing eye upon Sicily; but did not attempt any thing till after his

death.  Then, under pretense of aiding their confederates, they sent

succors upon all occasions to those who were oppressed by the

Syracusans, preparing the way for sending over a greater force.  But

Alcibiades was the person who inflamed this desire of theirs to the

height, and prevailed with them no longer to proceed secretly, and by

little and little, in their design, but to sail out with a great fleet,

and undertake at once to make themselves masters of the island.  He

possessed the people with great hopes, and he himself entertained yet

greater; and the conquest of Sicily, which was the utmost bound of their

ambition, was but the mere outset of his expectation.  Nicias endeavored

to divert the people from the expedition, by representing to them that

the taking of Syracuse would be a work of great difficulty; but

Alcibiades dreamed of nothing less than the conquest of Carthage and

Libya, and by the accession of these conceiving himself at once made

master of Italy and of Peloponnesus, seemed to look upon Sicily as

little more than a magazine for the war.  The young men were soon

elevated with these hopes, and listened gladly to those of riper years,

who talked wonders of the countries they were going to; so that you

might see great numbers sitting in the wrestling grounds and public

places, drawing on the ground the figure of the island and the situation

of Libya and Carthage.  Socrates the philosopher and Meton the

astrologer are said, however, never to have hoped for any good to the

commonwealth from this war; the one, it is to be supposed, presaging

what would ensue, by the intervention of his attendant Genius; and the

other, either upon rational consideration of the project, or by use of

the art of divination, conceived fears for its issue, and, feigning

madness, caught up a burning torch, and seemed as if he would have set

his own house on fire.  Others report, that he did not take upon him to

act the madman, but secretly in the night set his house on fire, and the

next morning besought the people, that for his comfort, after such a

calamity, they would spare his son from the expedition.  By which

artifice, he deceived his fellow-citizens, and obtained of them what he

desired.

Together with Alcibiades, Nicias, much against his will, was appointed

general:  and he endeavored to avoid the command, not the less on

account of his colleague.  But the Athenians thought the war would

proceed more prosperously, if they did not send Alcibiades free from

all restraint, but tempered his heat with the caution of Nicias.  This

they chose the rather to do, because Lamachus, the third general, though

he was of mature years, yet in several battles had appeared no less hot

and rash than Alcibiades himself.  When they began to deliberate of the

number of forces, and of the manner of making the necessary provisions,

Nicias made another attempt to oppose the design, and to prevent the

war; but Alcibiades contradicted him, and carried his point with the

people.  And one Demostratus, an orator, proposing to give the generals

absolute power over the preparations and the whole management of the

war, it was presently decreed so.  When all things were fitted for the

voyage, many unlucky omens appeared.  At that very time the feast of

Adonis happened, in which the women were used to expose, in all parts of

the city, images resembling dead men carried out to their burial, and to

represent funeral solemnities by lamentations and mournful songs.  The

mutilation, however, of the images of Mercury, most of which, in one

night, had their faces all disfigured, terrified many persons who were

wont to despise most things of that nature.  It was given out that it

was done by the Corinthians, for the sake of the Syracusans, who were

their colony, in hopes that the Athenians, by such prodigies, might be

induced to delay or abandon the war.  But the report gained no credit

with the people, nor yet the opinion of those who would not believe that

there was anything ominous in the matter, but that it was only an

extravagant action, committed, in that sort of sport which runs into

license, by wild young men coming from a debauch.  Alike enraged and

terrified at the thing, looking upon it to proceed from a conspiracy of

persons who designed some commotions in the state, the council, as well

as the assembly of the people, which was held frequently in a few days'

space, examined diligently everything that might administer ground for

suspicion.  During this examination, Androcles, one of the demagogues,

produced certain slaves and strangers before them, who accused

Alcibiades and some of his friends of defacing other images in the same

manner, and of having profanely acted the sacred mysteries at a drunken

meeting, where one Theodorus represented the herald, Polytion the torch-

bearer, and Alcibiades the chief priest, while the rest of the party

appeared as candidates for initiation, and received the title of

Initiates.  These were the matters contained in the articles of

information, which Thessalus, the son of Cimon, exhibited against

Alcibiades, for his impious mockery of the goddesses, Ceres and

Proserpine.  The people were highly exasperated and incensed against

Alcibiades upon this accusation, which, being aggravated by Androcles,

the most malicious of all his enemies, at first disturbed his friends

exceedingly.  But when they perceived that all the sea-men designed for

Sicily were for him, and the soldiers also, and when the Argive and

Mantinean auxiliaries, a thousand men at arms, openly declared that they

had undertaken this distant maritime expedition for the sake of

Alcibiades, and that, if he was ill-used, they would all go home, they

recovered their courage, and became eager to make use of the present

opportunity for justifying him.  At this his enemies were again

discouraged, fearing lest the people should be more gentle to him in

their sentence, because of the occasion they had for his service.

Therefore, to obviate this, they contrived that some other orators, who

did not appear to be enemies to Alcibiades, but really hated him no less

than those who avowed it, should stand up in the assembly and say, that

it was a very absurd thing that one who was created general of such an

army with absolute power, after his troops were assembled, and the

confederates were come, should lose the opportunity, whilst the people

were choosing his judges by lot, and appointing times for the hearing of

the cause.  And, therefore, let him set sail at once; good fortune

attend him; and when the war should be at an end, he might then in

person make his defense according to the laws.

Alcibiades perceived the malice of this postponement, and, appearing in

the assembly represented that it was monstrous for him to be sent with

the command of so large an army, when he lay under such accusations and

calumnies; that he deserved to die, if he could not clear himself of the

crimes objected to him; but when he had so done, and had proved his

innocence, he should then cheerfully apply himself to the war, as

standing no longer in fear of false accusers.  But he could not prevail

with the people, who commanded him to sail immediately.  So he departed,

together with the other generals, having with them near 140 galleys,

5,100 men at arms, and about 1,300 archers, slingers, and light-armed

men, and all the other provisions corresponding.

Arriving on the coast of Italy, he landed at Rhegium, and there stated

his views of the manner in which they ought to conduct the war.  He was

opposed by Nicias, but Lamachus being of his opinion, they sailed for

Sicily forthwith, and took Catana.  This was all that was done while he

was there, for he was soon after recalled by the Athenians to abide his

trial.  At first, as we before said, there were only some slight

suspicions advanced against Alcibiades, and accusations by certain

slaves and strangers.  But afterwards, in his absence, his enemies

attacked him more violently, and confounded together the breaking the

images with the profanation of the mysteries, as though both had been

committed in pursuance of the same conspiracy for changing the

government.  The people proceeded to imprison all that were accused,

without distinction, and without hearing them, and repented now,

considering the importance of the charge, that they had not immediately

brought Alcibiades to his trial, and given judgment against him.  Any of

his friends or acquaintance who fell into the people's hands, whilst

they were in this fury, did not fail to meet with very severe usage.

Thucydides has omitted to name the informers, but others mention

Dioclides and Teucer.  Amongst whom is Phrynichus, the comic poet, in

whom we find the following:—

"O dearest Hermes! only do take care,

And mind you do not miss your footing there;

Should you get hurt, occasion may arise

For a new Dioclides to tell lies."

To which he makes Mercury return this answer:—

"I will so, for I feel no inclination

To reward Teucer for more information."

The truth is, his accusers alleged nothing that was certain or solid

against him.  One of them, being asked how he knew the men who defaced

the images, replying, that he saw them by the light of the moon, made a

palpable misstatement, for it was just new moon when the fact was

committed.  This made all men of understanding cry out upon the thing;

but the people were as eager as ever to receive further accusations, nor

was their first heat at all abated, but they instantly seized and

imprisoned every one that was accused.  Amongst those who were detained

in prison for their trials was Andocides the orator, whose descent the

historian Hellanicus deduces from Ulysses.  He was always supposed to

hate popular government, and to support oligarchy.  The chief ground of

his being suspected of defacing the images was because the great

Mercury, which stood near his house, and was an ancient monument of the

tribe Aegeis, was almost the only statue of all the remarkable ones,

which remained entire.  For this cause, it is now called the Mercury of

Andocides, all men giving it that name, though the inscription is

evidence to the contrary.  It happened that Andocides, amongst the rest

who were prisoners upon the same account, contracted particular

acquaintance and intimacy with one Timaeus, a person inferior to him in

repute, but of remarkable dexterity and boldness.  He persuaded

Andocides to accuse himself and some few others of this crime, urging

to him that, upon his confession, he would be, by the decree of the

people, secure of his pardon, whereas the event of judgment is uncertain

to all men, but to great persons, such as he was, most formidable.  So

that it was better for him, if he regarded himself, to save his life by

a falsity, than to suffer an infamous death, as really guilty of the

crime.  And if he had regard to the public good, it was commendable to

sacrifice a few suspected men, by that means to rescue many excellent

persons from the fury of the people.  Andocides was prevailed upon, and

accused himself and some others, and, by the terms of the decree,

obtained his pardon, while all the persons named by him, except some few

who had saved themselves by flight, suffered death.  To gain the greater

credit to his information, he accused his own servants amongst others.

But notwithstanding this, the people's anger was not wholly appeased;

and being now no longer diverted by the mutilators, they were at leisure

to pour out their whole rage upon Alcibiades.  And, in conclusion, they

sent the galley named the Salaminian, to recall him.  But they expressly

commanded those that were sent, to use no violence, nor seize upon his

person, but address themselves to him in the mildest terms, requiring

him to follow them to Athens in order to abide his trial, and clear

himself before the people.  For they feared mutiny and sedition in the

army in an enemy's country, which indeed it would have been easy for

Alcibiades to effect, if he had wished it.  For the soldiers were

dispirited upon his departure, expecting for the future tedious delays,

and that the war would be drawn out into a lazy length by Nicias, when

Alcibiades, who was the spur to action, was taken away.  For though

Lamachus was a soldier, and a man of courage, poverty deprived him of

authority and respect in the army.  Alcibiades, just upon his departure,

prevented Messena from falling into the hands of the Athenians.  There

were some in that city who were upon the point of delivering it up, but

he, knowing the persons, gave information to some friends of the

Syracusans, and so defeated the whole contrivance.  When he arrived at

Thurii, he went on shore, and, concealing himself there, escaped those

who searched after him.  But to one who knew him, and asked him if he

durst not trust his own native country, he made answer, "In everything

else, yes; but in a matter that touches my life, I would not even my own

mother, lest she might by mistake throw in the black ball instead of the

white."  When, afterwards, he was told that the assembly had pronounced

judgment of death against him, all he said was, "I will make them feel

that I am alive."

The information against him was conceived in this form:—

"Thessalus, the son of Cimon, of the township of Lacia, lays information

that Alcibiades, the son of Clinias, of the township of the Scambonidae,

has committed a crime against the goddesses Ceres and Proserpine, by

representing in derision the holy mysteries, and showing them to his

companions in his own house.  Where, being habited in such robes as are

used by the chief priest when he shows the holy things, he named himself

the chief priest, Polytion the torch-bearer, and Theodorus, of the

township of Phegaea, the herald; and saluted the rest of his company as

Initiates and Novices.  All which was done contrary to the laws and

institutions of the Eumolpidae, and the heralds and priests of the

temple at Eleusis."

He was condemned as contumacious upon his not appearing, his property

confiscated, and it was decreed that all the priests and priestesses

should solemnly curse him.  But one of them, Theano, the daughter of

Menon, of the township of Agraule, is said to have opposed that part of

the decree, saying that her holy office obliged her to make prayers, but

not execrations.

Alcibiades, lying under these heavy decrees and sentences, when first he

fled from Thurii, passed over into Peloponnesus and remained some time

at Argos.  But being there in fear of his enemies and seeing himself

utterly hopeless of return to his native country, he sent to Sparta,

desiring safe conduct, and assuring them that he would make them amends

by his future services for all the mischief he had done them while he

was their enemy.  The Spartans giving him the security he desired, he

went eagerly, was well received, and, at his very first coming,

succeeded in inducing them, without any further caution or delay, to

send aid to the Syracusans; and so roused and excited them, that they

forthwith dispatched Gylippus into Sicily, to crush the forces which the

Athenians had in Sicily.  A second point was, to renew the war upon the

Athenians at home.  But the third thing, and the most important of all,

was to make them fortify Decelea, which above everything reduced and

wasted the resources of the Athenians.

The renown which he earned by these public services was equaled by the

admiration he attracted to his private life; he captivated and won over

everybody by his conformity to Spartan habits.  People who saw him

wearing his hair close cut, bathing in cold water, eating coarse meal,

and dining on black broth, doubted, or rather could not believe, that he

ever had a cook in his house, or had ever seen a perfumer, or had worn a

mantle of Milesian purple.  For he had, as it was observed, this

peculiar talent and artifice for gaining men's affections, that he could

at once comply with and really embrace and enter into their habits and

ways of life, and change faster than the chameleon.  One color, indeed,

they say the chameleon cannot assume; it cannot make itself appear

white; but Alcibiades, whether with good men or with bad, could adapt

himself to his company, and equally wear the appearance of virtue or

vice.  At Sparta, he was devoted to athletic exercises, was frugal and

reserved; in Ionia, luxurious, gay, and indolent; in Thrace, always

drinking; in Thessaly, ever on horseback; and when he lived with

Tisaphernes, the Persian satrap, he exceeded the Persians themselves in

magnificence and pomp.  Not that his natural disposition changed so

easily, nor that his real character was so very variable, but, whenever

he was sensible that by pursuing his own inclinations he might give

offense to those with whom he had occasion to converse, he transformed

himself into any shape, and adopted any fashion, that he observed to be

most agreeable to them.  So that to have seen him at Lacedaemon, a man,

judging by the outward appearance, would have said, "'Tis not Achilles's

son, but he himself, the very man" that Lycurgus designed to form; while

his real feelings and acts would have rather provoked the exclamation,

"'Tis the same woman still."  For while king Agis was absent, and abroad

with the army, he corrupted his wife Timaea, and had a child born by

her.  Nor did she even deny it, but when she was brought to bed of a

son, called him in public Leotychides, but, amongst her confidants and

attendants, would whisper that his name was Alcibiades.  To such a

degree was she transported by her passion for him.  He, on the other

side, would say, in his vain way, he had not done this thing out of mere

wantonness of insult, nor to gratify a passion, but that his race might

one day be kings over the Lacedaemonians.

There were many who told Agis that this was so, but time itself gave the

greatest confirmation to the story.  For Agis, alarmed by an earthquake,

had quitted his wife, and, for ten months after, was never with her;

Leotychides, therefore, being born after those ten months, he would not

acknowledge him for his son; which was the reason that afterwards he was

not admitted to the succession.

After the defeat which the Athenians received in Sicily, ambassadors

were dispatched to Sparta at once from Chios and Lesbos and Cyzicus, to

signify their purpose of revolting from the Athenians.  The Boeotians

interposed in favor of the Lesbians, and Pharnabazus of the Cyzicenes,

but the Lacedaemonians, at the persuasion of Alcibiades, chose to assist

Chios before all others.  He himself, also, went instantly to sea,

procured the immediate revolt of almost all Ionia, and, cooperating with

the Lacedaemonian generals, did great mischief to the Athenians.  But

Agis was his enemy, hating him for having dishonored his wife, and also

impatient of his glory, as almost every enterprise and every success was

ascribed to Alcibiades.  Others, also, of the most powerful and

ambitious amongst the Spartans, were possessed with jealousy of him,

and, at last, prevailed with the magistrates in the city to send orders

into Ionia that he should be killed.  Alcibiades, however, had secret

intelligence of this, and, in apprehension of the result, while he

communicated all affairs to the Lacedaemonians, yet took care not to put

himself into their power.  At last he retired to Tisaphernes, the king

of Persia's satrap, for his security, and immediately became the first

and most influential person about him.  For this barbarian, not being

himself sincere, but a lover of guile and wickedness, admired his

address and wonderful subtlety.  And, indeed, the charm of daily

intercourse with him was more than any character could resist or any

disposition escape.  Even those who feared and envied him could not but

take delight, and have a sort of kindness for him, when they saw him and

were in his company.  So that Tisaphernes, otherwise a cruel character,

and, above all other Persians, a hater of the Greeks, was yet so won by

the flatteries of Alcibiades, that he set himself even to exceed him in

responding to them.  The most beautiful of his parks, containing

salubrious streams and meadows, where he had built pavilions, and places

of retirement royally and exquisitely adorned, received by his direction

the name of Alcibiades, and was always so called and so spoken of.

Thus Alcibiades, quitting the interests of the Spartans, whom he could

no longer trust, because he stood in fear of Agis, endeavored to do them

ill offices, and render them odious to Tisaphernes, who, by his means,

was hindered from assisting them vigorously, and from finally ruining

the Athenians.  For his advice was to furnish them but sparingly with

money, and so wear them out, and consume them insensibly; when they had

wasted their strength upon one another, they would both become ready to

submit to the king.  Tisaphernes readily pursued his counsel, and so

openly expressed the liking and admiration which he had for him, that

Alcibiades was looked up to by the Greeks of both parties, and the

Athenians, now in their misfortunes, repented them of their severe

sentence against him.  And he, on the other side, began to be troubled

for them, and to fear lest, if that commonwealth were utterly destroyed,

he should fall into the hands of the Lacedaemonians, his enemies.

At that time the whole strength of the Athenians was in Samos.  Their

fleet maintained itself here, and issued from these head-quarters to

reduce such as had revolted, and protect the rest of their territories;

in one way or other still contriving to be a match for their enemies at

sea.  What they stood in fear of, was Tisaphernes and the Phoenician

fleet of one hundred and fifty galleys, which was said to be already

under sail; if those came, there remained then no hopes for the

commonwealth of Athens.  Understanding this, Alcibiades sent secretly to

the chief men of the Athenians, who were then at Samos, giving them

hopes that he would make Tisaphernes their friend; he was willing, he

implied, to do some favor, not to the people, nor in reliance upon them,

but to the better citizens, if only, like brave men, they would make the

attempt to put down the insolence of the people, and, by taking upon

them the government, would endeavor to save the city from ruin.  All of

them gave a ready ear to the proposal made by Alcibiades, except only

Phrynichus of the township of Dirades, one of the generals, who

suspected, as the truth was, that Alcibiades concerned not himself

whether the government were in the people or the better citizens, but

only sought by any means to make way for his return into his native

country, and to that end inveighed against the people, thereby to gain

the others, and to insinuate himself into their good opinion.  But when

Phrynichus found his counsel to be rejected, and that he was himself

become a declared enemy of Alcibiades, he gave secret intelligence to

Astyochus, the enemy's admiral, cautioning him to beware of Alcibiades,

and to seize him as a double dealer, unaware that one traitor was making

discoveries to another.  For Astyochus, who was eager to gain the favor

of Tisaphernes, observing the credit Alcibiades had with him, revealed

to Alcibiades all that Phrynichus had said against him.  Alcibiades at

once dispatched messengers to Samos, to accuse Phrynichus of the

treachery.  Upon this, all the commanders were enraged with Phrynichus,

and set themselves against him, and he, seeing no other way to extricate

himself from the present danger, attempted to remedy one evil by a

greater.  He sent to Astyochus to reproach him for betraying him, and to

make an offer to him at the same time, to deliver into his hands both

the army and the navy of the Athenians.  This occasioned no damage to

the Athenians, because Astyochus repeated his treachery, and revealed

also this proposal to Alcibiades.  But this again was foreseen by

Phrynichus, who, expecting a second accusation from Alcibiades, to

anticipate him, advertised the Athenians beforehand that the enemy was

ready to sail in order to surprise them, and therefore advised them to

fortify their camp, and to be in a readiness to go aboard their ships.

While the Athenians were intent upon doing these things, they received

other letters from Alcibiades, admonishing them to beware of Phrynichus,

as one who designed to betray their fleet to the enemy, to which they

then gave no credit at all, conceiving that Alcibiades, who knew

perfectly the counsels and preparations of the enemy, was merely making

use of that knowledge, in order to impose upon them in this false

accusation of Phrynichus.  Yet, afterwards, when Phrynichus was stabbed

with a dagger in the market-place by Hermon, one of the guard, the

Athenians, entering into an examination of the cause, solemnly condemned

Phrynichus of treason, and decreed crowns to Hermon and his associates.

And now the friends of Alcibiades, carrying all before them at Samos,

dispatched Pisander to Athens, to attempt a change of government, and to

encourage the aristocratical citizens to take upon themselves the

government, and overthrow the democracy, representing to them, that,

upon these terms, Alcibiades would procure them the friendship and

alliance of Tisaphernes.

This was the color and pretense made use of by those who desired to

change the government of Athens to an oligarchy.  But as soon as they

prevailed, and had got the administration of affairs into their hands,

under the name of the Five Thousand (whereas, indeed, they were but four

hundred), they slighted Alcibiades altogether, and prosecuted the war

with less vigor; partly because they durst not yet trust the citizens,

who secretly detested this change, and partly because they thought the

Lacedaemonians, who always befriended the government of the few, would

be inclined to give them favorable terms.

The people in the city were terrified into submission, many of those who

had dared openly to oppose the four hundred having been put to death.

But those who were at Samos, indignant when they heard this news, were

eager to set sail instantly for the Piraeus; and, sending for

Alcibiades, they declared him general, requiring him to lead them on to

put down the tyrants.  He, however, in that juncture, did not, as it

might have been thought a man would, on being suddenly exalted by the

favor of a multitude, think himself under an obligation to gratify and

submit to all the wishes of those who, from a fugitive and an exile, had

created him general of so great an army, and given him the command of

such a fleet.  But, as became a great captain, he opposed himself to the

precipitate resolutions which their rage led them to, and, by

restraining them from the great error they were about to commit,

unequivocally saved the commonwealth.  For if they then had sailed to

Athens, all Ionia and the islands and the Hellespont would have fallen

into the enemies' hands without opposition, while the Athenians,

involved in civil war, would have been fighting with one another within

the circuit of their own walls.  It was Alcibiades alone, or, at least,

principally, who prevented all this mischief; for he not only used

persuasion to the whole army, and showed them the danger, but applied

himself to them, one by one, entreating some, and constraining others.

He was much assisted, however, by Thrasybulus of Stiria, who, having the

loudest voice, as we are told of all the Athenians, went along with him,

and cried out to those who were ready to be gone.  A second great

service which Alcibiades did for them was, his undertaking that the

Phoenician fleet, which the Lacedaemonians expected to be sent to them

by the king of Persia, should either come in aid of the Athenians, or

otherwise should not come at all.  He sailed off with all expedition in

order to perform this, and the ships, which had already been seen as

near as Aspendus, were not brought any further by Tisaphernes, who thus

deceived the Lacedaemonians; and it was by both sides believed that they

had been diverted by the procurement of Alcibiades.  The Lacedaemonians,

in particular, accused him, that he had advised the Barbarian to stand

still, and suffer the Greeks to waste and destroy one another, as it was

evident that the accession of so great a force to either party would

enable them to take away the entire dominion of the sea from the other

side.

Soon after this, the four hundred usurpers were driven out, the friends

of Alcibiades vigorously assisting those who were for the popular

government.  And now the people in the city not only desired, but

commanded Alcibiades to return home from his exile.  He, however,

desired not to owe his return to the mere grace and commiseration of the

people, and resolved to come back, not with empty hands, but with glory,

and after some service done.  To this end, he sailed from Samos with a

few ships, and cruised on the sea of Cnidos, and about the isle of Cos;

but receiving intelligence there that Mindarus, the Spartan admiral, had

sailed with his whole army into the Hellespont, and that the Athenians

had followed him, he hurried back to succor the Athenian commanders,

and, by good fortune, arrived with eighteen galleys at a critical time.

For both the fleets having engaged near Abydos, the fight between them

had lasted till night, the one side having the advantage on one quarter,

and the other on another.  Upon his first appearance, both sides formed

a false impression; the enemy was encouraged, and the Athenians

terrified.  But Alcibiades suddenly raised the Athenian ensign in the

admiral ship, and fell upon those galleys of the Peloponnesians which

had the advantage and were in pursuit.  He soon put these to flight, and

followed them so close that he forced them on shore, and broke the ships

in pieces, the sailors abandoning them and swimming away, in spite of

all the efforts of Pharnabazus, who had come down to their assistance by

land, and did what he could to protect them from the shore.  In fine,

the Athenians, having taken thirty of the enemy's ships, and recovered

all their own, erected a trophy.  After the gaining of so glorious a

victory, his vanity made him eager to show himself to Tisaphernes, and,

having furnished himself with gifts and presents, and an equipage

suitable to his dignity, he set out to visit him.  But the thing did not

succeed as he had imagined, for Tisaphernes had been long suspected by

the Lacedaemonians, and was afraid to fall into disgrace with his king,

upon that account, and therefore thought that Alcibiades arrived very

opportunely, and immediately caused him to be seized, and sent away

prisoner to Sardis; fancying, by this act of injustice, to clear himself

from all former imputations.

But about thirty days after, Alcibiades escaped from his keepers, and,

having got a horse, fled to Clazomenae, where he procured Tisaphernes'

additional disgrace by professing he was a party to his escape.  From

there he sailed to the Athenian camp, and, being informed there that

Mindarus and Pharnabazus were together at Cyzicus, he made a speech to

the soldiers, telling them that sea-fighting, land-fighting, and, by the

gods, fighting against fortified cities too, must be all one for them,

as, unless they conquered everywhere, there was no money for them.  As

soon as ever he got them on shipboard, he hasted to Proconnesus, and

gave command to seize all the small vessels they met, and guard them

safely in the interior of the fleet, that the enemy might have no notice

of his coming; and a great storm of rain, accompanied with thunder and

darkness, which happened at the same time, contributed much to the

concealment of his enterprise.  Indeed, it was not only undiscovered by

the enemy, but the Athenians themselves were ignorant of it, for he

commanded them suddenly on board, and set sail when they had abandoned

all intention of it.  As the darkness presently passed away, the

Peloponnesian fleet were seen riding out at sea in front of the harbor

of Cyzicus.  Fearing, if they discovered the number of his ships, they

might endeavor to save themselves by land, he commanded the rest of the

captains to slacken, and follow him slowly, whilst he, advancing with

forty ships, showed himself to the enemy, and provoked them to fight.

The enemy, being deceived as to their numbers; despised them, and,

supposing they were to contend with those only, made themselves ready

and began the fight.  But as soon as they were engaged, they perceived

the other part of the fleet coming down upon them, at which they were so

terrified that they fled immediately.  Upon that, Alcibiades, breaking

through the midst of them with twenty of his best ships, hastened to the

shore, disembarked, and pursued those who abandoned their ships and fled

to land, and made a great slaughter of them.  Mindarus and Pharnabazus,

coming to their succor, were utterly defeated.  Mindarus was slain upon

the place, fighting valiantly; Pharnabazus saved himself by flight.  The

Athenians slew great numbers of their enemies, won much spoil, and took

all their ships.  They also made themselves masters of Cyzicus, which

was deserted by Pharnabazus, and destroyed its Peloponnesian garrison,

and thereby not only secured to themselves the Hellespont, but by force

drove the Lacedaemonians from out of all the rest of the sea.  They

intercepted some letters written to the ephors, which gave an account of

this fatal overthrow, after their short laconic manner.  "Our hopes are

at an end.  Mindarus is slain.  The men starve.  We know not what to

do."

The soldiers who followed Alcibiades in this last fight were so exalted

with their success, and felt that degree of pride, that, looking on

themselves as invincible, they disdained to mix with the other soldiers,

who had been often overcome.  For it happened not long before,

Thrasyllus had received a defeat near Ephesus, and, upon that occasion,

the Ephesians erected their brazen trophy to the disgrace of the

Athenians.  The soldiers of Alcibiades reproached those who were under

the command of Thrasyllus with this misfortune, at the same time

magnifying themselves and their own commander, and it went so far that

they would not exercise with them, nor lodge in the same quarters.  But

soon after, Pharnabazus, with a great force of horse and foot, falling

upon the soldiers of Thrasyllus, as they were laying waste the territory

of Abydos, Alcibiades came to their aid, routed Pharnabazus, and,

together with Thrasyllus, pursued him till it was night; and in this

action the troops united, and returned together to the camp, rejoicing

and congratulating one another.  The next day he erected a trophy, and

then proceeded to lay waste with fire and sword the whole province which

was under Pharnabazus, where none ventured to resist; and he took divers

priests and priestesses, but released them without ransom.  He prepared

next to attack the Chalcedonians, who had revolted from the Athenians,

and had received a Lacedaemonian governor and garrison.  But having

intelligence that they had removed their corn and cattle out of the

fields, and were conveying it all to the Bithynians, who were their

friends, he drew down his army to the frontier of the Bithynians, and

then sent a herald to charge them with this proceeding.  The Bithynians,

terrified at his approach, delivered up to him the booty, and entered

into alliance with him.

Afterwards he proceeded to the siege of Chalcedon, and enclosed it with

a wall from sea to sea.  Pharnabazus advanced with his forces to raise

the siege, and Hippocrates, the governor of the town, at the same time,

gathering together all the strength he had, made a sally upon the

Athenians.  Alcibiades divided his army so as to engage them both at

once, and not only forced Pharnabazus to a dishonorable flight, but

defeated Hippocrates, and killed him and a number of the soldiers with

him.  After this he sailed into the Hellespont, in order to raise

supplies of money, and took the city of Selymbria, in which action,

through his precipitation, he exposed himself to great danger.  For some

within the town had undertaken to betray it into his hands, and, by

agreement, were to give him a signal by a lighted torch about midnight.

But one of the conspirators beginning to repent himself of the design,

the rest, for fear of being discovered, were driven to give the signal

before the appointed hour.  Alcibiades, as soon as he saw the torch

lifted up in the air, though his army was not in readiness to march, ran

instantly towards the walls, taking with him about thirty men only, and

commanding the rest of the army to follow him with all possible speed.

When he came thither, he found the gate opened for him, and entered with

his thirty men, and about twenty more light-armed men, who were come up

to them.  They were no sooner in the city, but he perceived the

Selymbrians all armed, coming down upon him; so that there was no hope

of escaping if he stayed to receive them; and, on the other hand, having

been always successful till that day, wherever he commanded, he could

not endure to be defeated and fly.  So, requiring silence by sound of a

trumpet, he commanded one of his men to make proclamation that the

Selymbrians should not take arms against the Athenians.  This cooled

such of the inhabitants as were fiercest for the fight, for they

supposed that all their enemies were within the walls, and it raised the

hopes of others who were disposed to an accommodation.  Whilst they were

parleying, and propositions making on one side and the other,

Alcibiades's whole army came up to the town.  And now, conjecturing

rightly, that the Selymbrians were well inclined to peace, and fearing

lest the city might be sacked by the Thracians, who came in great

numbers to his army to serve as volunteers, out of kindness for him, he

commanded them all to retreat without the walls.  And upon the

submission of the Selymbrians, he saved them from being pillaged, only

taking of them a sum of money, and, after placing an Athenian garrison

in the town, departed.

During this action, the Athenian captains who besieged Chalcedon

concluded a treaty with Pharnabazus upon these articles:  that he should

give them a sum of money; that the Chalcedonians should return to the

subjection of Athens; and that the Athenians should make no inroad into

the province whereof Pharnabazus was governor; and Pharnabazus was also

to provide safe conducts for the Athenian ambassadors to the king of

Persia.  Afterwards, when Alcibiades returned thither, Pharnabazus

required that he also should be sworn to the treaty; but he refused it,

unless Pharnabazus would swear at the same time.  When the treaty was

sworn to on both sides Alcibiades went against the Byzantines, who had

revolted from the Athenians, and drew a line of circumvallation about

the city.  But Anaxilaus and Lycurgus, together with some others, having

undertaken to betray the city to him upon his engagement to preserve the

lives and property of the inhabitants, he caused a report to be spread

abroad, as if, by reason of some unexpected movement in Ionia, he should

be obliged to raise the siege.  And, accordingly, that day he made a

show to depart with his whole fleet; but returned the same night, and

went ashore with all his men at arms, and, silently and undiscovered,

marched up to the walls.  At the same time, his ships rowed into the

harbor with all possible violence, coming on with much fury, and with

great shouts and outcries.  The Byzantines, thus surprised and

astonished, while they all hurried to the defense of their port and

shipping, gave opportunity to those who favored the Athenians, securely

to receive Alcibiades into the city.  Yet the enterprise was not

accomplished without fighting, for the Peloponnesians, Boeotians, and

Megarians not only repulsed those who came out of the ships, and forced

them on board again, but, hearing that the Athenians were entered on

the other side, drew up in order, and went to meet them.  Alcibiades,

however, gained the victory after some sharp fighting, in which he

himself had the command of the right wing, and Theramenes of the left,

and took about three hundred, who survived of the enemy, prisoners of

war.  After the battle, not one of the Byzantines was slain, or driven

out of the city, according to the terms upon which the city was put into

his hands, that they should receive no prejudice in life or property.

And thus Anaxilaus, being afterwards accused at Lacedaemon for this

treason, neither disowned nor professed to be ashamed of the action; for

he urged that he was not a Lacedaemonian, but a Byzantine and saw not

Sparta, but Byzantium, in extreme danger; the city so blockaded that it

was not possible to bring in any new provisions, and the Peloponnesians

and Boeotians, who were in garrison, devouring the old stores, whilst

the Byzantines, with their wives and children, were starving; that he

had not, therefore, betrayed his country to enemies, but had delivered

it from the calamities of war, and had but followed the example of the

most worthy Lacedaemonians, who esteemed nothing to be honorable and

just, but what was profitable for their country.  The Lacedaemonians,

upon hearing his defense, respected it, and discharged all that were

accused.

And now Alcibiades began to desire to see his native country again, or

rather to show his fellow-citizens a person who had gained so many

victories for them.  He set sail for Athens, the ships that accompanied

him being adorned with great numbers of shields and other spoils, and

towing after them many galleys taken from the enemy, and the ensigns and

ornaments of many others which he had sunk and destroyed; all of them

together amounting to two hundred.  Little credit, perhaps, can be given

to what Duris the Samian, who professed to be descended from Alcibiades,

adds, that Chrysogonus, who had gained a victory at the Pythian games,

played upon his flute for the galleys, whilst the oars kept time with

the music; and that Callippides, the tragedian, attired in his buskins,

his purple robes, and other ornaments used in the theater, gave the word

to the rowers, and that the admiral galley entered into the port with a

purple sail.  Neither Theopompus, nor Ephorus, nor Xenophon, mention

them.  Nor, indeed, is it credible, that one who returned from so long

an exile, and such variety of misfortunes, should come home to his

countrymen in the style of revelers breaking up from a drinking-party.

On the contrary, he entered the harbor full of fear, nor would he

venture to go on shore, till, standing on the deck, he saw Euryptolemus,

his cousin, and others of his friends and acquaintance, who were ready

to receive him, and invited him to land.  As soon as he was landed, the

multitude who came out to meet him scarcely seemed so much as to see any

of the other captains, but came in throngs about Alcibiades, and saluted

him with loud acclamations, and still followed him; those who could

press near him crowned him with garlands, and they who could not come up

so close yet stayed to behold him afar off, and the old men pointed him

out, and showed him to the young ones.  Nevertheless, this public joy

was mixed with some tears, and the present happiness was allayed by the

remembrance of the miseries they had endured.  They made reflections,

that they could not have so unfortunately miscarried in Sicily, or been

defeated in any of their other expectations, if they had left the

management of their affairs formerly, and the command of their forces,

to Alcibiades, since, upon his undertaking the administration, when they

were in a manner driven from the sea, and could scarce defend the

suburbs of their city by land, and, at the same time, were miserably

distracted with intestine factions, he had raised them up from this low

and deplorable condition, and had not only restored them to their

ancient dominion of the sea, but had also made them everywhere

victorious over their enemies on land.

There had been a decree for recalling him from his banishment already

passed by the people, at the instance of Critias, the son of

Callaeschrus, as appears by his elegies, in which he puts Alcibiades in

mind of this service:—

From my proposal did that edict come,

Which from your tedious exile brought you home;

The public vote at first was moved by me,

And my voice put the seal to the decree.

The people being summoned to an assembly, Alcibiades came in amongst

them, and first bewailed and lamented his own sufferings, and, in gentle

terms complaining of the usage he had received, imputed all to his hard

fortune, and some ill genius that attended him:  then he spoke at large

of their prospects, and exhorted them to courage and good hope.  The

people crowned him with crowns of gold, and created him general, both at

land and sea, with absolute power.  They also made a decree that his

estate should be restored to him, and that the Eumolpidae and the holy

heralds should absolve him from the curses which they had solemnly

pronounced against him by sentence of the people.  Which when all the

rest obeyed, Theodorus, the high-priest, excused himself, "For," said

he, "if he is innocent, I never cursed him."

But notwithstanding the affairs of Alcibiades went so prosperously, and

so much to his glory, yet many were still somewhat disturbed, and looked

upon the time of his arrival to be ominous.  For on the day that he came

into the port, the feast of the goddess Minerva, which they call the

Plynteria, was kept.  It is the twenty-fifth day of Thargelion, when the

Praxiergidae solemnize their secret rites, taking all the ornaments from

off her image, and keeping the part of the temple where it stands close

covered.  Hence the Athenians esteem this day most inauspicious and

never undertake any thing of importance upon it; and, therefore, they

imagined that the goddess did not receive Alcibiades graciously and

propitiously, thus hiding her face and rejecting him.  Yet,

notwithstanding, everything succeeded according to his wish.  When the

one hundred galleys, that were to return with him, were fitted out and

ready to sail, an honorable zeal detained him till the celebration of

the mysteries was over.  For ever since Decelea had been occupied, as

the enemy commanded the roads leading from Athens to Eleusis, the

procession, being conducted by sea, had not been performed with any

proper solemnity; they were forced to omit the sacrifices and dances and

other holy ceremonies, which had usually been performed in the way, when

they led forth Iacchus.  Alcibiades, therefore, judged it would be a

glorious action, which would do honor to the gods and gain him esteem

with men, if he restored the ancient splendor to these rites, escorting

the procession again by land, and protecting it with his army in the

face of the enemy.  For either, if Agis stood still and did not oppose,

it would very much diminish and obscure his reputation, or, in the other

alternative, Alcibiades would engage in a holy war, in the cause of the

gods, and in defense of the most sacred and solemn ceremonies; and this

in the sight of his country, where he should have all his fellow-

citizens witnesses of his valor.  As soon as he had resolved upon this

design, and had communicated it to the Eumolpidae and heralds, he placed

sentinels on the tops of the hills, and at the break of day sent forth

his scouts.  And then taking with him the priests and Initiates and the

Initiators, and encompassing them with his soldiers, he conducted them

with great order and profound silence; an august and venerable

procession, wherein all who did not envy him said, he performed at once

the office of a high-priest and of a general.  The enemy did not dare to

attempt any thing against them, and thus he brought them back in safety

to the city.  Upon which, as he was exalted in his own thought, so the

opinion which the people had of his conduct was raised to that degree,

that they looked upon their armies as irresistible and invincible while

he commanded them; and he so won, indeed, upon the lower and meaner sort

of people, that they passionately desired to have him "tyrant" over

them, and some of them did not scruple to tell him so, and to advise him

to put himself out of the reach of envy, by abolishing the laws and

ordinances of the people, and suppressing the idle talkers that were

ruining the state, that so he might act and take upon him the management

of affairs, without standing in fear of being called to an account.

How far his own inclinations led him to usurp sovereign power, is

uncertain, but the most considerable persons in the city were so much

afraid of it, that they hastened him on ship-board as speedily as they

could, appointing the colleagues whom he chose, and allowing him all

other things as he desired.  Thereupon he set sail with a fleet of one

hundred ships, and, arriving at Andros, he there fought with and

defeated as well the inhabitants as the Lacedaemonians who assisted

them.  He did not, however, take the city; which gave the first occasion

to his enemies for all their accusations against him.  Certainly, if

ever man was ruined by his own glory, it was Alcibiades.  For his

continual success had produced such an idea of his courage and conduct,

that, if he failed in anything he undertook, it was imputed to his

neglect, and no one would believe it was through want of power.  For

they thought nothing was too hard for him, if he went about it in good

earnest.  They fancied, every day, that they should hear news of the

reduction of Chios, and of the rest of Ionia, and grew impatient that

things were not effected as fast and as rapidly as they could wish for

them.  They never considered how extremely money was wanting, and that,

having to carry on war with an enemy who had supplies of all things from

a great king, he was often forced to quit his armament, in order to

procure money and provisions for the subsistence of his soldiers.  This

it was which gave occasion for the last accusation which was made

against him.  For Lysander, being sent from Lacedaemon with a commission

to be admiral of their fleet, and being furnished by Cyrus with a great

sum of money, gave every sailor four obols a day, whereas before they

had but three.  Alcibiades could hardly allow his men three obols, and

therefore was constrained to go into Caria to furnish himself with

money.  He left the care of the fleet, in his absence, to Antiochus, an

experienced seaman, but rash and inconsiderate, who had express orders

from Alcibiades not to engage, though the enemy provoked him.  But he

slighted and disregarded these directions to that degree, that, having

made ready his own galley and another, he stood for Ephesus, where the

enemy lay, and, as he sailed before the heads of their galleys, used

every provocation possible, both in words and deeds.  Lysander at first

manned out a few ships, and pursued him.  But all the Athenian ships

coming in to his assistance, Lysander, also, brought up his whole fleet,

which gained an entire victory.  He slew Antiochus himself, took many

men and ships, and erected a trophy.

As soon as Alcibiades heard this news, he returned to Samos, and loosing

from thence with his whole fleet, came and offered battle to Lysander.

But Lysander, content with the victory he had gained, would not stir.

Amongst others in the army who hated Alcibiades, Thrasybulus, the son of

Thrason, was his particular enemy, and went purposely to Athens to

accuse him, and to exasperate his enemies in the city against him.

Addressing the people, he represented that Alcibiades had ruined their

affairs and lost their ships by mere self-conceited neglect of his

duties, committing the government of the army, in his absence, to men

who gained his favor by drinking and scurrilous talking, whilst he

wandered up and down at pleasure to raise money, giving himself up to

every sort of luxury and excess amongst the courtesans of Abydos and

Ionia, at a time when the enemy's navy were on the watch close at hand.

It was also objected to him, that he had fortified a castle near

Bisanthe in Thrace, for a safe retreat for himself, as one that either

could not, or would not, live in his own country.  The Athenians gave

credit to these informations, and showed the resentment and displeasure

which they had conceived against him, by choosing other generals.

As soon as Alcibiades heard of this, he immediately forsook the army,

afraid of what might follow; and, collecting a body of mercenary

soldiers, made war upon his own account against those Thracians who

called themselves free, and acknowledged no king.  By this means he

amassed to himself a considerable treasure, and, at the same time,

secured the bordering Greeks from the incursions of the barbarians.

Tydeus, Menander, and Adimantus, the new-made generals, were at that

time posted at Aegospotami, with all the ships which the Athenians had

left.  From whence they were used to go out to sea every morning, and

offer battle to Lysander, who lay near Lampsacus; and when they had done

so, returning back again, lay, all the rest of the day, carelessly and

without order, in contempt of the enemy.  Alcibiades, who was not far

off, did not think so slightly of their danger, nor neglect to let them

know it, but, mounting his horse, came to the generals, and represented

to them that they had chosen a very inconvenient station, where there

was no safe harbor, and where they were distant from any town; so that

they were constrained to send for their necessary provisions as far as

Sestos.  He also pointed out to them their carelessness in suffering the

soldiers, when they went ashore, to disperse and wander up and down at

their pleasure, while the enemy's fleet, under the command of one

general, and strictly obedient to discipline, lay so very near them.  He

advised them to remove the fleet to Sestos.  But the admirals not only

disregarded what he said, but Tydeus, with insulting expressions;

commanded him to be gone, saying, that now not he, but others, had the

command of the forces.  Alcibiades, suspecting something of treachery in

them, departed, and told his friends, who accompanied him out of the

camp, that if the generals had not used him with such insupportable

contempt, he would within a few days have forced the Lacedaemonians,

however unwilling, either to have fought the Athenians at sea, or to

have deserted their ships.  Some looked upon this as a piece of

ostentation only; others said, the thing was probable, for that he might

have brought down by land great numbers of the Thracian cavalry and

archers, to assault and disorder them in their camp.  The event

however, soon made it evident how rightly he had judged of the errors

which the Athenians committed.  For Lysander fell upon them on a sudden,

when they least suspected it, with such fury that Conon alone, with

eight galleys, escaped him; all the rest, which were about two hundred,

he took and carried away, together with three thousand prisoners, whom

he put to death.  And within a short time after, he took Athens itself,

burnt all the ships which he found there, and demolished their long

walls.

After this, Alcibiades, standing in dread of the Lacedaemonians, who

were now masters both at sea and land, retired into Bithynia.  He sent

thither great treasure before him, took much with him, but left much

more in the castle where he had before resided.  But he lost great part

of his wealth in Bithynia, being robbed by some Thracians who lived in

those parts, and thereupon determined to go to the court of Artaxerxes,

not doubting but that the king, if he would make trial of his abilities,

would find him not inferior to Themistocles, besides that he was

recommended by a more honorable cause.  For he went, not as Themistocles

did, to offer his service against his fellow-citizens, but against their

enemies, and to implore the king's aid for the defense of his country.

He concluded that Pharnabazus would most readily procure him a safe

conduct, and therefore went into Phrygia to him, and continued to dwell

there some time, paying him great respect, and being honorably treated

by him.  The Athenians, in the meantime, were miserably afflicted at

their loss of empire, but when they were deprived of liberty also, and

Lysander set up thirty despotic rulers in the city, in their ruin now

they began to turn to those thoughts which, while safety was yet

possible, they would not entertain; they acknowledged and bewailed their

former errors and follies, and judged this second ill-usage of

Alcibiades to be of all the most inexcusable.  For he was rejected,

without any fault committed by himself; and only because they were

incensed against his subordinate for having shamefully lost a few ships,

they much more shamefully deprived the commonwealth of its most valiant

and accomplished general.  Yet in this sad state of affairs, they had

still some faint hopes left them, nor would they utterly despair of the

Athenian commonwealth, while Alcibiades was safe.  For they persuaded

themselves that if before, when he was an exile, he could not content

himself to live idly and at ease, much less now, if he could find any

favorable opportunity, would he endure the insolence of the

Lacedaemonians, and the outrages of the Thirty.  Nor was it an absurd

thing in the people to entertain such imaginations, when the Thirty

themselves were so very solicitous to be informed and to get

intelligence of all his actions and designs.  In fine, Critias

represented to Lysander that the Lacedaemonians could never securely

enjoy the dominion of Greece, till the Athenian democracy was absolutely

destroyed; and though now the people of Athens seemed quietly and

patiently to submit to so small a number of governors, yet so long as

Alcibiades lived, the knowledge of this fact would never suffer them to

acquiesce in their present circumstances.

Yet Lysander would not be prevailed upon by these representations, till

at last he received secret orders from the magistrates of Lacedaemon,

expressly requiring him to get Alcibiades dispatched:  whether it was

that they feared his energy and boldness in enterprising what was

hazardous, or that it was done to gratify king Agis.  Upon receipt of

this order, Lysander sent away a messenger to Pharnabazus, desiring him

to put it in execution.  Pharnabazus committed the affair to Magaeus,

his brother, and to his uncle Susamithres.  Alcibiades resided at that

time in a small village in Phrygia, together with Timandra, a mistress

of his.  As he slept, he had this dream:  he thought himself attired in

his mistress's habit, and that she, holding him in her arms, dressed his

head and painted his face as if he had been a woman; others say, he

dreamed that he saw Magaeus cut off his head and burn his body; at any

rate, it was but a little while before his death that he had these

visions.  Those who were sent to assassinate him had not courage enough

to enter the house, but surrounded it first, and set it on fire.

Alcibiades, as soon as he perceived it, getting together great

quantities of clothes and furniture, threw them upon the fire to choke

it, and, having wrapped his cloak about his left arm, and holding his

naked sword in his right, he cast himself into the middle of the fire,

and escaped securely through it, before his clothes were burnt.  The

barbarians, as soon as they saw him, retreated, and none of them durst

stay to expect him, or to engage with him, but, standing at a distance,

they slew him with their darts and arrows.  When he was dead, the

barbarians departed, and Timandra took up his dead body, and, covering

and wrapping it up in her own robes, she buried it as decently and as

honorably as her circumstances would allow.  It is said, that the famous

Lais, who was called the Corinthian, though she was a native of Hyccara,

a small town in Sicily, from whence she was brought a captive, was the

daughter of this Timandra.  There are some who agree with this account

of Alcibiades's death in all points, except that they impute the cause

of it neither to Pharnabazus, nor Lysander, nor the Lacedaemonians:

but, they say, he was keeping with him a young lady of a noble house,

whom he had debauched, and that her brothers, not being able to endure

the indignity, set fire by night to the house where he was living, and,

as he endeavored to save himself from the flames, slew him with their

darts, in the manner just related.

CORIOLANUS

The patrician house of the Marcii in Rome produced many men of

distinction, and among the rest, Ancus Marcius, grandson to Numa by his

daughter, and king after Tullus Hostilius.  Of the same family were also

Publius and Quintus Marcius, which two conveyed into the city the best

and most abundant supply of water they have at Rome.  As likewise

Censorinus, who, having been twice chosen censor by the people,

afterwards himself induced them to make a law that nobody should bear

that office twice.  But Caius Marcius, of whom I now write, being left

an orphan, and brought up under the widowhood of his mother, has shown

us by experience, that, although the early loss of a father may be

attended with other disadvantages, yet it can hinder none from being

either virtuous or eminent in the world, and that it is no obstacle to

true goodness and excellence; however bad men may be pleased to lay the

blame of their corruptions upon that misfortune and the neglect of them

in their minority.  Nor is he less an evidence to the truth of their

opinion, who conceive that a generous and worthy nature without proper

discipline, like a rich soil without culture, is apt, with its better

fruits, to produce also much that is bad and faulty.  While the force

and vigor of his soul, and a persevering constancy in all he undertook,

led him successfully into many noble achievements, yet, on the other

side, also, by indulging the vehemence of his passion, and through all

obstinate reluctance to yield or accommodate his humors and sentiments

to those of people about him, he rendered himself incapable of acting

and associating with others.  Those who saw with admiration how proof

his nature was against all the softnesses of pleasure, the hardships of

service, and the allurements of gain, while allowing to that universal

firmness of his the respective names of temperance, fortitude, and

justice, yet, in the life of the citizen and the statesman, could not

choose but be disgusted at the severity and ruggedness of his

deportment, and with his overbearing, haughty, and imperious temper.

Education and study, and the favors of the muses, confer no greater

benefit on those that seek them, than these humanizing and civilizing

lessons, which teach our natural qualities to submit to the limitations

prescribed by reason, and to avoid the wildness of extremes.

Those were times at Rome in which that kind of worth was most esteemed

which displayed itself in military achievements; one evidence of which

we find in the Latin word for virtue, which is properly equivalent to

manly courage.  As if valor and all virtue had been the same thing, they

used as the common term the name of the particular excellence.  But

Marcius, having a more passionate inclination than any of that age for

feats of war, began at once, from his very childhood, to handle arms;

and feeling that adventitious implements and artificial arms would

effect little, and be of small use to such as have not their native and

natural weapons well fixed and prepared for service, he so exercised and

inured his body to all sorts of activity and encounter, that, besides

the lightness of a racer, he had a weight in close seizures and

wrestlings with an enemy, from which it was hard for any to disengage

himself; so that his competitors at home in displays of bravery, loath

to own themselves inferior in that respect, were wont to ascribe their

deficiencies to his strength of body, which they said no resistance and

no fatigue could exhaust.

The first time he went out to the wars, being yet a stripling, was when

Tarquinius Superbus, who had been king of Rome and was afterwards

expelled, after many unsuccessful attempts, now entered upon his last

effort, and proceeded to hazard all as it were upon a single throw.  A

great number of the Latins and other people of Italy joined their

forces, and were marching with him toward the city, to procure his

restoration; not, however, so much out of a desire to serve and

oblige Tarquin, as to gratify their own fear and envy at the increase of

the Roman greatness, which they were anxious to check and reduce.  The

armies met and engaged in a decisive battle, in the vicissitudes of

which, Marcius, while fighting bravely in the dictator's presence, saw a

Roman soldier struck down at a little distance, and immediately stepped

in and stood before him, and slew his assailant.  The general, after

having gained the victory, crowned him for this act, one of the first,

with a garland of oaken branches; it being the Roman custom thus to

adorn those who had saved the life of a citizen; whether that the law

intended some special honor to the oak, in memory of the Arcadians, a

people the oracle had made famous by the name of acorn-eaters; or

whether the reason of it was because they might easily, and in all

places where they fought, have plenty of oak for that purpose; or,

finally, whether the oaken wreath, being sacred to Jupiter, the guardian

of the city, might, therefore, be thought a propel ornament for one who

preserved a citizen.  And the oak, in truth, is the tree which bears the

most and the prettiest fruit of any that grow wild, and is the strongest

of all that are under cultivation; its acorns were the principal diet of

the first mortals, and the honey found in it gave them drink.  I may

say, too, it furnished fowl and other creatures as dainties, in

producing mistletoe for birdlime to ensnare them.  In this battle,

meantime, it is stated that Castor and Pollux appeared, and, immediately

after the battle, were seen at Rome just by the fountain where their

temple now stands, with their horses foaming with sweat, and told the

news of the victory to the people in the Forum.  The fifteenth of July,

being the day of this conquest, became consequently a solemn holiday

sacred to the Twin Brothers.

It may be observed in general, that when young men arrive early at fame

and repute, if they are of a nature but slightly touched with emulation,

this early attainment is apt to extinguish their thirst and satiate

their small appetite; whereas the first distinctions of more solid and

weighty characters do but stimulate and quicken them and take them away,

like a wind, in the pursuit of honor; they look upon these marks and

testimonies to their virtue not as a recompense received for what they

have already done, but as a pledge given by themselves of what they will

perform hereafter, ashamed now to forsake or underlive the credit they

have won, or, rather, not to exceed and obscure all that is gone before

by the luster of their following actions.  Marcius, having a spirit of

this noble make, was ambitious always to surpass himself, and did

nothing, how extraordinary soever, but he thought he was bound to outdo

it at the next occasion; and ever desiring to give continual fresh

instances of his prowess he added one exploit to another, and heaped up

trophies upon trophies, so as to make it a matter of contest also among

his commanders, the later still vying with the earlier, which should

pay him the greatest honor and speak highest in his commendation.  Of

all the numerous wars and conflicts in those days, there was not one

from which he returned without laurels and rewards.  And, whereas others

made glory the end of their daring, the end of his glory was his

mother's gladness; the delight she took to hear him praised and to see

him crowned, and her weeping for joy in his embraces, rendered him, in

his own thoughts, the most honored and most happy person in the world.

Epaminondas is similarly said to have acknowledged his feeling, that it

was the greatest felicity of his whole life that his father and mother

survived to hear of his successful generalship and his victory at

Leuctra.  And he had the advantage, indeed, to have both his parents

partake with him, and enjoy the pleasure of his good fortune.  But

Marcius, believing himself bound to pay his mother Volumnia all that

gratitude and duty which would have belonged to his father, had he also

been alive, could never satiate himself in his tenderness and respect to

her.  He took a wife, also, at her request and wish, and continued, even

after he had children, to live still with his mother, without parting

families.

The repute of his integrity and courage had, by this time, gained him a

considerable influence and authority in Rome, when the senate, favoring

the wealthier citizens, began to be at variance with the common people,

who made sad complaints of the rigorous and inhuman usage they received

from the money-lenders.  For as many as were behind with them, and had

any sort of property, they stripped of all they had, by the way of

pledges and sales; and such as through former exactions were reduced

already to extreme indigence, and had nothing more to be deprived of,

these they led away in person and put their bodies under constraint,

notwithstanding the scars and wounds that they could show in attestation

of their public services in numerous campaigns; the last of which had

been against the Sabines, which they undertook upon a promise made by

their rich creditors that they would treat them with more gentleness for

the future, Marcus Valerius, the consul, having, by order from the

senate, engaged also for the performance of it.  But when, after they

had fought courageously and beaten the enemy, there was, nevertheless,

no moderation or forbearance used, and the senate also professed to

remember nothing of that agreement, and sat without testifying the least

concern to see them dragged away like slaves and their goods seized upon

as formerly, there began now to be open disorders and dangerous meetings

in the city; and the enemy, also, aware of the popular confusion,

invaded and laid waste the country.  And when the consuls now gave

notice, that all who were of an age to bear arms should make their

personal appearance, but found no one regard the summons, the members of

the government, then coming to consult what course should be taken,

were themselves again divided in opinion:  some thought it most

advisable to comply a little in favor of the poor, by relaxing their

overstrained rights, and mitigating the extreme rigor of the law, while

others withstood this proposal; Marcius in particular, with more

vehemence than the rest, alleging that the business of money on either

side was not the main thing in question, urged that this disorderly

proceeding was but the first insolent step towards open revolt against

the laws, which it would become the wisdom of the government to check at

the earliest moment.

There had been frequent assemblies of the whole senate, within a small

compass of time, about this difficulty, but without any certain issue;

the poor commonalty, therefore, perceiving there was likely to be no

redress of their grievances, on a sudden collected in a body, and,

encouraging each other in their resolution, forsook the city with one

accord and seizing the hill which is now called the Holy Mount, sat down

by the river Anio, without committing any sort of violence or seditious

outrage, but merely exclaiming, as they went along, that they had this

long time past been, in fact, expelled and excluded from the city by the

cruelty of the rich; that Italy would everywhere afford them the benefit

of air and water and a place of burial, which was all they could expect

in the city, unless it were, perhaps, the privilege of being wounded and

killed in time of war for the defense of their creditors.  The senate,

apprehending the consequences, sent the most moderate and popular men of

their own order to treat with them.

Menenius Agrippa, their chief spokesman, after much entreaty to the

people, and much plain speaking on behalf of the senate, concluded, at

length, with the celebrated fable.  "It once happened," he said, "that

all the other members of a man mutinied against the stomach, which they

accused as the only idle, uncontributing part in the whole body, while

the rest were put to hardships and the expense of much labor to supply

and minister to its appetites.  The stomach, however, merely ridiculed

the silliness of the members, who appeared not to be aware that the

stomach certainly does receive the general nourishment, but only to

return it again, and redistribute it amongst the rest.  Such is the

case," he said, "ye citizens, between you and the senate.  The counsels

and plans that are there duly digested, convey and secure to all of you,

your proper benefit and support."

A reconciliation ensued, the senate acceding to the request of the

people for the annual election of five protectors for those in need of

succor, the same that are now called the tribunes of the people; and the

first two they pitched upon were Junius Brutus and Sicinnius Vellutus,

their leaders in the secession.

The city being thus united, the commons stood presently to their arms,

and followed their commanders to the war with great alacrity.  As for

Marcius, though he was not a little vexed himself to see the populace

prevail so far and gain ground of the senators, and might observe many

other patricians have the same dislike of the late concessions, he yet

besought them not to yield at least to the common people in the zeal and

forwardness they now allowed for their country's service, but to prove

that they were superior to them, not so much in power and riches as in

merit and worth.

The Romans were now at war with the Volscian nation, whose principal

city was Corioli; when, therefore, Cominius the consul had invested this

important place, the rest of the Volscians, fearing it would be taken,

mustered up whatever force they could from all parts, to relieve it,

designing to give the Romans battle before the city, and so attack them

on both sides.  Cominius, to avoid this inconvenience, divided his army,

marching himself with one body to encounter the Volscians on their

approach from without, and leaving Titus Lartius, one of the bravest

Romans of his time, to command the other and continue the siege.  Those

within Corioli, despising now the smallness of their number, made a

sally upon them, and prevailed at first, and pursued the Romans into

their trenches.  Here it was that Marcius, flying out with a slender

company, and cutting those in pieces that first engaged him, obliged the

other assailants to slacken their speed; and then, with loud cries,

called upon the Romans to renew the battle.  For he had, what Cato

thought a great point in a soldier, not only strength of hand and

stroke, but also a voice and look that of themselves were a terror to an

enemy.  Divers of his own party now rallying and making up to him, the

enemies soon retreated; but Marcius, not content to see them draw off

and retire, pressed hard upon the rear, and drove them, as they fled

away in haste, to the very gates of their city; where, perceiving the

Romans to fall back from their pursuit, beaten off by the multitude of

darts poured in upon them from the walls, and that none of his followers

had the hardiness to think of falling in pellmell among the fugitives

and so entering a city full of enemies in arms, he, nevertheless, stood

and urged them to the attempt, crying out, that fortune had now set open

Corioli, not so much to shelter the vanquished, as to receive the

conquerors.  Seconded by a few that were willing to venture with him, he

bore along through the crowd, made good his passage, and thrust himself

into the gate through the midst of them, nobody at first daring to

resist him.  But when the citizens, on looking about, saw that a very

small number had entered, they now took courage, and came up and

attacked them.  A combat ensued of the most extraordinary description,

in which Marcius, by strength of hand, and swiftness of foot, and daring

of soul, overpowering every one that he assailed, succeeded in driving

the enemy to seek refuge, for the most part, in the interior of the

town, while the remainder submitted, and threw down their arms; thus

affording Lartius abundant opportunity to bring in the rest of the

Romans with ease and safety.

Corioli being thus surprised and taken, the greater part of the soldiers

employed themselves in spoiling and pillaging it, while Marcius

indignantly reproached them, and exclaimed that it was a dishonorable

and unworthy thing, when the consul and their fellow-citizens had now

perhaps encountered the other Volscians, and were hazarding their lives

in battle, basely to misspend the time in running up and down for booty,

and, under a pretense of enriching themselves, keep out of danger.  Few

paid him any attention, but, putting himself at the head of these, he

took the road by which the consul's army had marched before him,

encouraging his companions, and beseeching them, as they went along, not

to give up, and praying often to the gods, too, that he might be so happy

as to arrive before the fight was over, and come seasonably up to assist

Cominius, and partake in the peril of the action.

It was customary with the Romans of that age, when they were moving into

battle array, and were on the point of taking up their bucklers, and

girding their coats about them, to make at the same time an unwritten

will, or verbal testament, and to name who should be their heirs, in the

hearing of three or four witnesses.  In this precise posture Marcius

found them at his arrival, the enemy being advanced within view.

They were not a little disturbed by his first appearance, seeing him

covered with blood and sweat, and attended with a small train; but when

he hastily made up to the consul with gladness in his looks, giving him

his hand, and recounting to him how the city had been taken, and when

they saw Cominius also embrace and salute him, every one took fresh

heart; those that were near enough hearing, and those that were at a

distance guessing, what had happened; and all cried out to be led to

battle.  First, however, Marcius desired to know of him how the

Volscians had arrayed their army, and where they had placed their best

men, and on his answering that he took the troops of the Antiates in the

center to be their prime warriors, that would yield to none in bravery,

"Let me then demand and obtain of you," said Marcius, "that we may be

posted against them."  The consul granted the request, with much

admiration of his gallantry.  And when the conflict began by the

soldiers darting at each other, and Marcius sallied out before the rest,

the Volscians opposed to him were not able to make head against him;

wherever he fell in, he broke their ranks, and made a lane through them;

but the parties turning again, and enclosing him on each side with their

weapons, the consul, who observed the danger he was in, dispatched some

of the choicest men he had for his rescue.  The conflict then growing

warm and sharp about Marcius, and many falling dead in a little space,

the Romans bore so hard upon the enemies, and pressed them with such

violence, that they forced them at length to abandon their ground, and

to quit the field.  And, going now to prosecute the victory, they

besought Marcius, tired out with his toils, and faint and heavy through

the loss of blood, that he would retire to the camp.  He replied,

however, that weariness was not for conquerors, and joined with them in

the pursuit.  The rest of the Volscian army was in like manner defeated,

great numbers killed, and no less taken captive.

The day after, when Marcius, with the rest of the army, presented

themselves at the consul's tent, Cominius rose, and having rendered all

due acknowledgment to the gods for the success of that enterprise,

turned next to Marcius, and first of all delivered the strongest

encomium upon his rare exploits, which he had partly been an eyewitness

of himself, in the late battle, and had partly learned from the

testimony of Lartius.  And then he required him to choose a tenth part

of all the treasure and horses and captives that had fallen into their

hands, before any division should be made to others; besides which, he

made him the special present of a horse with trappings and ornaments, in

honor of his actions.  The whole army applauded; Marcius, however,

stepped forth, and declaring his thankful acceptance of the horse, and

his gratification at the praises of his general, said, that all other

things, which he could only regard rather as mercenary advantages than

any significations of honor, he must waive, and should be content with

the ordinary proportion of such rewards.  "I have only," said he; "one

special grace to beg, and this I hope you will not deny me.  There was a

certain hospitable friend of mine among the Volscians, a man of probity

and virtue, who is become a prisoner, and from former wealth and freedom

is now reduced to servitude.  Among his many misfortunes let my

intercession redeem him from the one of being sold as a common slave."

Such a refusal and such a request on the part of Marcius were followed

with yet louder acclamations; and he had many more admirers of this

generous superiority to avarice, than of the bravery he had shown in

battle.  The very persons who conceived some envy and despite to see him

so specially honored, could not but acknowledge, that one who so nobly

could refuse reward, was beyond others worthy to receive it; and were

more charmed with that virtue which made him despise advantage, than

with any of those former actions that had gained him his title to it.

It is the hither accomplishment to use money well than to use arms; but

not to need it is more noble than to use it.

When the noise of approbation and applause ceased, Cominius, resuming,

said, "It is idle, fellow-soldiers, to force and obtrude those other

gifts of ours on one who is unwilling to accept them ; let us,

therefore, give him one of such a kind that he cannot well reject it;

let us pass a vote, I mean, that he shall hereafter be called

Coriolanus, unless you think that his performance at Corioli has itself

anticipated any such resolution."  Hence, therefore, he had his third

name of Coriolanus, making it all the plainer that Caius was a personal

proper name, and the second, or surname, Marcius, one common to his

house and family; the third being a subsequent addition which used to be

imposed either from some particular act or fortune, bodily

characteristic, or good quality of the bearer.  Just as the Greeks, too,

gave additional names in old time, in some cases from some achievement,

Soter, for example, and Callinicus; or personal appearance, as Physcon

and Grypus; good qualities, Euergetes and Philadelphus; good fortune,

Eudaemon, the title of the second Battus.  Several monarchs have also

had names given them in mockery, as Antigonus was called Doson, and

Ptolemy, Lathyrus.  This sort of title was yet more common among the

Romans.  One of the Metelli was surnamed Diadematus, because he walked

about for a long time with a bandage on his head, to conceal a scar; and

another, of the same family, got the name of Celer, from the rapidity he

displayed in giving a funeral entertainment of gladiators within a few

days after his father's death, his speed and energy in doing which was

thought extraordinary.  There are some, too, who even at this day take

names from certain casual incidents at their nativity; a child that is

born when his father is away from home is called Proculus; or Postumus,

if after his decease; and when twins come into the world, and one dies

at the birth, the survivor has the name of Vopiscus.  From bodily

peculiarities they derive not only their Syllas and Nigers, but their

Caeci and Claudii; wisely endeavoring to accustom their people not to

reckon either the loss of sight, or any other bodily misfortune, as a

matter of disgrace to them, but to answer to such names without shame,

as if they were really their own.  But this discussion better befits

another place.

The war against the Volscians was no sooner at an end, than the popular

orators revived domestic troubles, and raised another sedition, without

any new cause of complaint or just grievance to proceed upon, but

merely turning the very mischiefs that unavoidably ensued from their

former contests into a pretext against the patricians.  The greatest

part of their arable land had been left unsown and without tillage, and

the time of war allowing them no means or leisure to import provision

from other countries, there was an extreme scarcity.  The movers of the

people then observing, that there was no corn to be bought, and that, if

there had been, they had no money to buy it, began to calumniate the

wealthy with false stories, and whisper it about, as if they, out of

malice, had purposely contrived the famine.  Meanwhile, there came an

embassy from the Velitrani, proposing to deliver up their city to the

Romans, and desiring they would send some new inhabitants to people it,

as a late pestilential disease had swept away so many of the natives,

that there was hardly a tenth part remaining of their whole community.

This necessity of the Velitrani was considered by all more prudent

people as most opportune in the present state of affairs; since the

dearth made it needful to ease the city of its superfluous members, and

they were in hope also, at the same time, to dissipate the gathering

sedition by ridding themselves of the more violent and heated partisans,

and discharging, so to say, the elements of disease and disorder in the

state.  The consuls, therefore, singled out such citizens to supply the

desolation at Velitrae, and gave notice to others, that they should be

ready to march against the Volscians, with the politic design of

preventing intestine broils by employment abroad, and in the hope, that

when rich as well as poor, plebeians and patricians, should be mingled

again in the same army and the same camp, and engage in one common

service for the public, it would mutually dispose them to reconciliation

and friendship.

But Sicinnius and Brutus, the popular orators, interposed, crying out,

that the consuls disguised the most cruel and barbarous action in the

world under that mild and plausible name of a colony, and were simply

precipitating so many poor citizens into a mere pit of destruction,

bidding them settle down in a country where the air was charged with

disease, and the ground covered with dead bodies, and expose themselves

to the evil influence of a strange and angered deity.  And then, as if

it would not satisfy their hatred to destroy some by hunger, and offer

others to the mercy of a plague, they must proceed to involve them also

in a needless war of their own making, that no calamity might be

wanting to complete the punishment of the citizens for refusing to

submit to that of slavery to the rich.

By such addresses, the people were so possessed, that none of them would

appear upon the consular summons to be enlisted for the war; and they

showed entire aversion to the proposal for a new plantation; so that the

senate was at a loss what to say or do.  But Marcius, who began now to

bear himself higher and to feel confidence in his past actions,

conscious, too, of the admiration of the best and greatest men of Rome,

openly took the lead in opposing the favorers of the people.  The colony

was dispatched to Velitrae, those that were chosen by lot being

compelled to depart upon high penalties; and when they obstinately

persisted in refusing to enroll themselves for the Volscian service, he

mustered up his own clients, and as many others as could be wrought upon

by persuasion, and with these made an inroad into the territories of the

Antiates, where, finding a considerable quantity of corn, and collecting

much booty, both of cattle and prisoners, he reserved nothing for

himself in private, but returned safe to Rome, while those that ventured

out with him were seen laden with pillage, and driving their prey before

them.  This sight filled those that had stayed at home with regret for

their perverseness, with envy at their fortunate fellow-citizens, and

with feelings of dislike to Marcius, and hostility to his growing

reputation and power, which might probably be used against the popular

interest.

Not long after he stood for the consulship; when, however, the people

began to relent and incline to favor him, being sensible what a shame it

would be to repulse and affront a man of his birth and merit, after he

had done them so many signal services.  It was usual for those who stood

for offices among them to solicit and address themselves personally to

the citizens, presenting themselves in the forum with the toga on alone,

and no tunic under it; either to promote their supplications by the

humility of their dress, or that such as had received wounds might more

readily display those marks of their fortitude.  Certainly, it was not

out of suspicion of bribery and corruption that they required all such

petitioners for their favor to appear ungirt and open, without any close

garment; as it was much later, and many ages after this, that buying and

selling crept in at their elections, and money became an ingredient in

the public suffrages; proceeding thence to attempt their tribunals, and

even attack their camps, till, by hiring the valiant, and enslaving iron

to silver, it grew master of the state, and turned their commonwealth

into a monarchy.  For it was well and truly said that the first

destroyer of the liberties of a people is he who first gave them

bounties and largesses.  At Rome the mischief seems to have stolen

secretly in, and by little and little, not being at once discerned and

taken notice of.  It is not certainly known who the man was that did

there first either bribe the citizens, or corrupt the courts; whereas,

in Athens, Anytus, the son of Anthemion, is said to have been the first

that gave money to the judges, when on his trial, toward the latter end

of the Peloponnesian war, for letting the fort of Pylos fall into the

hands of the enemy; in a period while the pure and golden race of men

were still in possession of the Roman forum.

Marcius, therefore, as the fashion of candidates was showing the scars

and gashes that were still visible on his body, from the many conflicts

in which he had signalized himself during a service of seventeen years

together they were, so to say, put out of countenance at this display of

merit, and told one another that they ought in common modesty to create

him consul.  But when the day of election was now come, and Marcius

appeared in the forum, with a pompous train of senators attending him;

and the patricians all manifested greater concern, and seemed to be

exerting greater efforts, than they had ever done before on the like

occasion, the commons then fell off again from the kindness they had

conceived for him, and in the place of their late benevolence, began to

feel something of indignation and envy; passions assisted by the fear

they entertained, that if a man of such aristocratic temper, and so

influential among the patricians, should be invested with the power

which that office would give him, he might employ it to deprive the

people of all that liberty which was yet left them.  In conclusion, they

rejected Marcius.  Two other names were announced, to the great

mortification of the senators, who felt as if the indignity reflected

rather upon themselves than on Marcius.  He, for his part, could not

bear the affront with any patience.  He had always indulged his temper,

and had regarded the proud and contentious element of human nature as a

sort of nobleness and magnanimity; reason and discipline had not imbued

him with that solidity and equanimity which enters so largely into the

virtues of the statesman.  He had never learned how essential it is for

any one who undertakes public business, and desires to deal with

mankind, to avoid above all things that self-will, which, as Plato says,

belongs to the family of solitude; and to pursue, above all things, that

capacity so generally ridiculed, of submission to ill treatment.

Marcius, straightforward and direct, and possessed with the idea that to

vanquish and overbear all apposition is the true part of bravery, and

never imagining that it was the weakness and womanishness of his nature

that broke out, so to say, in these ulcerations of anger, retired, full

of fury and bitterness against the people.  The young patricians, too,

all that were proudest and most conscious of their noble birth, had

always been devoted to his interest, and, adhering to him now, with a

fidelity that did him no good, aggravated his resentment with the

expression of their indignation and condolence.  He had been their

captain, and their willing instructor in the arts of war, when out upon

expeditions, and their model in that true emulation and love of

excellence which makes men extol, without envy or jealousy, each other's

brave achievements.

In the midst of these distempers, a large quantity of corn reached Rome,

a great part bought up in Italy, but an equal amount sent as a present

from Syracuse, from Gelo, then reigning there.  Many began now to hope

well of their affairs, supposing the city, by this means, would be

delivered at once, both of its want and discord.  A council, therefore,

being presently held, the people came flocking about the senate-house,

eagerly awaiting the issue of that deliberation, expecting that the

market prices would now be less cruel, and that what had come as a gift

would be distributed as such.  There were some within who so advised the

senate; but Marcius, standing up, sharply inveighed against those who

spoke in favor of the multitude, calling them flatterers of the rabble

traitors to the nobility, and alleging, that, by such gratifications,

they did but cherish those ill seeds of boldness and petulance that had

been sown among the people, to their own prejudice, which they should

have done well to observe and stifle at their first appearance, and not

have suffered the plebeians to grow so strong, by granting them

magistrates of such authority as the tribunes.  They were, indeed, even

now formidable to the state, since everything they desired was granted

them; no constraint was put on their will; they refused obedience to the

consuls, and, overthrowing all law and magistracy, gave the title of

magistrate to their private factious leaders.  "When things are come to

such a pass, for us to sit here and decree largesses and bounties for

them, like those Greeks where the populace is supreme and absolute, what

would it be else," said he, "but to take their disobedience into pay,

and maintain it for the common ruin of us all?  They certainly cannot

look upon these liberalities as a reward of public service, which they

know they have so often deserted; nor yet of those secessions, by which

they openly renounced their country; much less of the calumnies and

slanders they have been always so ready to entertain against the senate;

but will rather conclude that a bounty which seems to have no other

visible cause or reason, must needs be the effect of our fear and

flattery; and will, therefore, set no limit to their disobedience, nor

ever cease from disturbances and sedition.  Concession is mere madness;

if we have any wisdom and resolution at all, we shall, on the contrary,

never rest till we have recovered from them that tribunician power they

have extorted from us; as being a plain subversion of the consulship,

and a perpetual ground of separation in our city, that is no longer one,

as heretofore, but has in this received such a wound and rupture, as is

never likely to close and unite again, or suffer us to be of one mind,

and to give over inflaming our distempers, and being a torment to each

other."

Marcius, with much more to this purpose, succeeded, to an extraordinary

degree, in inspiring the younger men with the same furious sentiments,

and had almost all the wealthy on his side, who cried him up as the only

person their city had, superior alike to force and flattery; some of the

older men, however, opposed him, suspecting the consequences.  As,

indeed, there came no good of it; for the tribunes, who were present,

perceiving how the proposal of Marcius took, ran out into the crowd with

exclamations, calling on the plebeians to stand together, and come in to

their assistance.  The assembly met, and soon became tumultuous.  The

sum of what Marcius had spoken, having been reported to the people,

excited them to such fury, that they were ready to break in upon the

senate.  The tribunes prevented this, by laying all the blame on

Coriolanus, whom, therefore, they cited by their messengers to come

before them, and defend himself.  And when he contemptuously repulsed

the officers who brought him the summons, they came themselves, with the

Aediles, or overseers of the market, proposing to carry him away by

force, and, accordingly, began to lay hold on his person.  The

patricians, however, coming to his rescue, not only thrust off the

tribunes, but also beat the Aediles, that were their seconds in the

quarrel; night, approaching, put an end to the contest.  But, as soon as

it was day, the consuls, observing the people to be highly exasperated,

and that they ran from all quarters and gathered in the forum, were

afraid for the whole city, so that, convening the senate afresh, they

desired them to advise how they might best compose and pacify the

incensed multitude by equitable language and indulgent decrees; since,

if they wisely considered the state of things, they would find that it

was no time to stand upon terms of honor, and a mere point of glory;

such a critical conjuncture called for gentle methods, and for temperate

and humane counsels.  The majority, therefore, of the senators giving

way, the consuls proceeded to pacify the people in the best manner they

were able, answering gently to such imputations and charges as had been

cast upon the senate, and using much tenderness and moderation in the

admonitions and reproof they gave them.  On the point of the price of

provisions, they said, there should be no difference at all between

them.  When a great part of the commonalty was grown cool, and it

appeared from their orderly and peaceful behavior that they had been

very much appeased by what they had heard, the tribunes, standing up,

declared, in the name of the people, that since the senate was pleased

to act soberly and do them reason, they, likewise, should be ready to

yield in all that was fair and equitable on their side; they must

insist, however, that Marcius should give in his answer to the several

charges as follows:  first, could he deny that he instigated the senate

to overthrow the government and annul the privileges of the people? and,

in the next place, when called to account for it, did he not disobey

their summons? and, lastly, by the blows and other public affronts to

the Aediles, had he not done all he could to commence a civil war?

These articles were brought in against him, with a design either to

humble Marcius, and show his submission if, contrary to his nature, he

should now court and sue the people; or, if he should follow his natural

disposition, which they rather expected from their judgment of his

character, then that he might thus make the breach final between himself

and the people.

He came, therefore, as it were, to make his apology, and clear himself;

in which belief the people kept silence, and gave him a quiet hearing.

But when, instead of the submissive and deprecatory language expected

from him, he began to use not only an offensive kind of freedom, seeming

rather to accuse than apologize, but, as well by the tone of his voice

as the air of his countenance, displayed a security that was not far

from disdain and contempt of them, the whole multitude then became

angry, and gave evident signs of impatience and disgust; and Sicinnius,

the most violent of the tribunes, after a little private conference with

his colleagues, proceeded solemnly to pronounce before them all, that

Marcius was condemned to die by the tribunes of the people, and bid the

Aediles take him to the Tarpeian rock, and without delay throw him

headlong from the precipice.  When they, however, in compliance with the

order, came to seize upon his body, many, even of the plebeian party,

felt it to be a horrible and extravagant act; the patricians, meantime,

wholly beside themselves with distress and horror, hurried up with cries

to the rescue; and while some made actual use of their hands to hinder

the arrest, and, surrounding Marcius, got him in among them, others, as

in so great a tumult no good could be done by words, stretched out

theirs, beseeching the multitude that they would not proceed to such

furious extremities; and at length, the friends and acquaintance of the

tribunes, wisely perceiving how impossible it would be to carry off

Marcius to punishment without much bloodshed and slaughter of the

nobility, persuaded them to forbear everything unusual and odious; not

to dispatch him by any sudden violence, or without regular process, but

refer the cause to the general suffrage of the people.  Sicinnius then,

after a little pause, turning to the patricians, demanded what their

meaning was, thus forcibly to rescue Marcius out of the people's hands,

as they were going to punish him; when it was replied by them, on the

other side, and the question put, "Rather, how came it into your minds,

and what is it you design, thus to drag one of the worthiest men of

Rome, without trial, to a barbarous and illegal execution?"  "Very

well," said Sicinnius, "you shall have no ground in this respect for

quarrel or complaint against the people.  The people grant your request,

and your partisan shall be tried.  We appoint you, Marcius," directing

his speech to him, "the third market-day ensuing, to appear and defend

yourself, and to try if you can satisfy the Roman citizens of your

innocence, who will then judge your case by vote."  The patricians were

content with such a truce and respite for that time, and gladly returned

home, having for the present brought off Marcius in safety.

During the interval before the appointed time (for the Romans hold their

sessions every ninth day, which from that cause are called nundinae in

Latin), a war fell out with the Antiates, likely to be of some

continuance, which gave them hope they might one way or other elude the

judgment.  The people, they presumed, would become tractable, and their

indignation lessen and languish by degrees in so long a space, if

occupation and war did not wholly put it out of their mind.  But when,

contrary to expectation, they made a speedy agreement with the people of

Antium, and the army came back to Rome, the patricians were again in

great perplexity, and had frequent meetings to consider how things might

be arranged, without either abandoning Marcius, or yet giving occasion

to the popular orators to create new disorders.  Appius Claudius, whom

they counted among the senators most averse to the popular interest,

made a solemn declaration, and told them beforehand, that the senate

would utterly destroy itself and betray the government, if they should

once suffer the people to assume the authority of pronouncing sentence

upon any of the patricians; but the oldest senators and most favorable

to the people maintained, on the other side, that the people would not

be so harsh and severe upon them, as some were pleased to imagine, but

rather become more gentle and humane upon the concession of that power,

since it was not contempt of the senate, but the impression of being

contemned by it, which made them pretend to such a prerogative.  Let

that be once allowed them as a mark of respect and kind feeling, and the

mere possession of this power of voting would at once dispossess them of

their animosity.

When, therefore, Marcius saw that the senate was in pain and suspense

upon his account, divided, as it were, betwixt their kindness for him

and their apprehensions from the people, he desired to know of the

tribunes what the crimes were they intended to charge him with, and what

the heads of the indictment they would oblige him to plead to before the

people; and being told by them that he was to be impeached for

attempting usurpation, and that they would prove him guilty of designing

to establish arbitrary government, stepping forth upon this, "Let me go

then," he said, "to clear myself from that imputation before an assembly

of them; I freely offer myself to any sort of trial, nor do I refuse any

kind of punishment whatsoever; only," he continued, "let what you now

mention be really made my accusation, and do not you play false with the

senate."  On their consenting to these terms, he came to his trial.  But

when the people met together, the tribunes, contrary to all former

practice, extorted first, that votes should be taken, not by centuries,

but tribes; a change, by which the indigent and factious rabble, that

had no respect for honesty and justice, would be sure to carry it

against those who were rich and well known, and accustomed to serve the

state in war.  In the next place, whereas they had engaged to prosecute

Marcius upon no other head but that of tyranny, which could never be

made out against him, they relinquished this plea, and urged instead,

his language in the senate against an abatement of the price of corn,

and for the overthrow of the tribunician power; adding further, as a new

impeachment, the distribution that was made by him of the spoil and

booty he had taken from the Antiates, when he overran their country,

which he had divided among those that had followed him, whereas it ought

rather to have been brought into the public treasury; which last

accusation did, they say, more discompose Marcius than all the rest, as

he had not anticipated he should ever be questioned on that subject,

and, therefore, was less provided with any satisfactory answer to it on

the sudden.  And when, by way of excuse, he began to magnify the merits

of those who had been partakers with him in the action, those that had

stayed at home, being more numerous than the other, interrupted him with

outcries.  In conclusion, when they came to vote, a majority of three

tribes condemned him; the penalty being perpetual banishment.  The

sentence of his condemnation being pronounced, the people went away with

greater triumph and exultation than they had ever shown for any victory

over enemies; while the senate was in grief and deep dejection,

repenting now and vexed to the soul that they had not done and suffered

all things rather than give way to the insolence of the people, and

permit them to assume and abuse so great an authority.  There was no need

then to look at men's dresses, or other marks of distinction, to know

one from another:  any one who was glad was, beyond all doubt, a

plebeian; any one who looked sorrowful, a patrician.

Marcius alone, himself, was neither stunned nor humiliated.  In mien,

carriage, and countenance, he bore the appearance of entire composure,

and while all his friends were full of distress, seemed the only man

that was not touched with his misfortune.  Not that either reflection

taught him, or gentleness of temper made it natural for him, to submit:

he was wholly possessed, on the contrary, with a profound and deep-

seated fury, which passes with many for no pain at all.  And pain, it is

true, transmuted, so to say, by its own fiery heat into anger, loses

every appearance of depression and feebleness; the angry man makes a

show of energy, as the man in a high fever does of natural heat, while,

in fact, all this action of the soul is but mere diseased palpitation,

distention, and inflammation.  That such was his distempered state

appeared presently plainly enough in his actions.  On his return home,

after saluting his mother and his wife, who were all in tears and full

of loud lamentations, and exhorting them to moderate the sense they had

of his calamity, he proceeded at once to the city gates, whither all the

nobility came to attend him; and so, not so much as taking anything

with him, or making any request to the company, he departed from them,

having only three or four clients with him.  He continued solitary for a

few days in a place in the country, distracted with a variety of

counsels, such as rage and indignation suggested to him; and proposing

to himself no honorable or useful end, but only how he might best

satisfy his revenge on the Romans, he resolved at length to raise up a

heavy war against them from their nearest neighbors.  He determined,

first to make trial of the Volscians, whom he knew to be still vigorous

and flourishing, both in men and treasure, and he imagined their force

and power was not so much abated, as their spite and auger increased, by

the late overthrows they had received from the Romans.

There was a man of Antium, called Tullus Aufidius, who, for his wealth

and bravery and the splendor of his family, had the respect and

privilege of a king among the Volscians, but whom Marcius knew to have a

particular hostility to himself, above all other Romans.  Frequent

menaces and challenges had passed in battle between them, and those

exchanges of defiance to which their hot and eager emulation is apt to

prompt young soldiers had added private animosity to their national

feelings of opposition.  Yet for all this, considering Tullus to have a

certain generosity of temper, and knowing that no Volscian, so much as

he, desired an occasion to requite upon the Romans the evils they had

done, he did what much confirms the saying, that

Hard and unequal is with wrath the strife,

Which makes us buy its pleasure with our life.

Putting on such a dress as would make him appear to any whom he might

meet most unlike what he really was, thus, like Ulysses, —

The town he entered of his mortal foes.

His arrival at Antium was about evening, and though several met him in

the streets, yet he passed along without being known to any, and went

directly to the house of Tullus, and, entering undiscovered, went up to

the fire-hearth, and seated himself there without speaking a word,

covering up his head.  Those of the family could not but wonder, and yet

they were afraid either to raise or question him, for there was a

certain air of majesty both in his posture and silence, but they

recounted to Tullus, being then at supper, the strangeness of this

accident.  He immediately rose from table and came in, and asked him who

he was, and for what business he came thither; and then Marcius,

unmuffling himself, and pausing awhile, "If," said he, "you cannot yet

call me to mind, Tullus, or do not believe your eyes concerning me, I

must of necessity be my own accuser.  I am Caius Marcius, the author of

so much mischief to the Volscians; of which, were I seeking to deny it,

the surname of Coriolanus I now bear would be a sufficient evidence

against me.  The one recompense I received for all the hardships and

perils I have gone through, was the title that proclaims my enmity to

your nation, and this is the only thing which is still left me.  Of all

other advantages, I have been stripped and deprived by the envy and

outrage of the Roman people, and the cowardice and treachery of the

magistrates and those of my own order.  I am driven out as an exile, and

become an humble suppliant at your hearth, not so much for safety and

protection (should I have come hither, had I been afraid to die?), as to

seek vengeance against those that expelled me; which, methinks, I have

already obtained, by putting myself into your hands.  If, therefore, you

have really a mind to attack your enemies, come then, make use of that

affliction you see me in to assist the enterprise, and convert my

personal infelicity into a common blessing to the Volscians; as, indeed,

I am likely to be more serviceable in fighting for than against you,

with the advantage, which I now possess, of knowing all the secrets of

the enemy that I am attacking.  But if you decline to make any further

attempts, I am neither desirous to live myself, nor will it be well in

you to preserve a person who has been your rival and adversary of old,

and now, when he offers you his service, appears unprofitable and

useless to you."

Tullus, on hearing this, was extremely rejoiced, and giving him his

right hand, exclaimed, "Rise, Marcius, and be of good courage; it is a

great happiness you bring to Antium, in the present you make us of

yourself; expect everything that is good from the Volscians."  He then

proceeded to feast and entertain him with every display of kindness, and

for several days after they were in close deliberation together on the

prospects of a war.

While this design was forming, there were great troubles and commotions

at Rome, from the animosity of the senators against the people,

heightened just now by the late condemnation of Marcius.  Besides that,

their soothsayers and priests, and even private persons, reported

signs and prodigies not to be neglected; one of which is stated to have

occurred as follows:  Titus Latinus, a man of ordinary condition, but

of a quiet and virtuous character, free from all superstitious fancies,

and yet more from vanity and exaggeration, had an apparition in his

sleep, as if Jupiter came and bade him tell the senate, that it was with

a bad and unacceptable dancer that they had headed his procession.

Having beheld the vision, he said, he did not much attend to it at the

first appearance; but after he had seen and slighted it a second and

third time, he had lost a hopeful son, and was himself struck with

palsy.  He was brought into the senate on a litter to tell this, and the

story goes, that he had no sooner delivered his message there, but he at

once felt his strength return, and got upon his legs, and went home

alone, without need of any support.  The senators, in wonder and

surprise, made a diligent search into the matter.  That which his dream

alluded to was this:  some citizen had, for some heinous offense, given

up a servant of his to the rest of his fellows, with charge to whip him

first through the market, and then to kill him; and while they were

executing this command, and scourging the wretch, who screwed and turned

himself into all manner of shapes and unseemly motions, through the pain

he was in, the solemn procession in honor of Jupiter chanced to follow

at their heels.  Several of the attendants on which were, indeed,

scandalized at the sight, yet no one of them interfered, or acted

further in the matter than merely to utter some common reproaches and

execrations on a master who inflicted so cruel a punishment.  For the

Romans treated their slaves with great humanity in these times, when,

working and laboring themselves, and living together among them, they

naturally were more gentle and familiar with them.  It was one of the

severest punishments for a slave who had committed a fault, to have to

take the piece of wood which supports the pole of a wagon, and carry it

about through the neighborhood; a slave who had once undergone the shame

of this, and been thus seen by the household and the neighbors, had no

longer any trust or credit among them, and had the name of furcifer;

furca being the Latin word for a prop, or support.

When, therefore, Latinus had related his dream, and the senators were

considering who this disagreeable and ungainly dancer could be, some of

the company, having been struck with the strangeness of the punishment,

called to mind and mentioned the miserable slave who was lashed through

the streets and afterward put to death.  The priests, when consulted,

confirmed the conjecture; the master was punished; and orders given for

a new celebration of the procession and the spectacles in honor of the

god.  Numa, in other respects also a wise arranger of religious offices,

would seem to have been especially judicious in his direction, with a

view to the attentiveness of the people, that, when the magistrates or

priests performed any divine worship, a herald should go before, and

proclaim with a loud voice, Hoc age, Do this you are about, and so warn

them to mind whatever sacred action they were engaged in, and not suffer

any business or worldly avocation to disturb and interrupt it; most of

the things which men do of this kind, being in a manner forced from

them, and effected by constraint.  It is usual with the Romans to

recommence their sacrifices and processions and spectacles, not only

upon such a cause as this, but for any slighter reason.  If but one of

the horses which drew the chariots called Tensae, upon which the images

of their gods were placed, happened to fail and falter, or if the driver

took hold of the reins with his left hand, they would decree that the

whole operation should commence anew; and, in latter ages, one and the

same sacrifice was performed thirty times over, because of the

occurrence of some defect or mistake or accident in the service.  Such

was the Roman reverence and caution in religious matters.

Marcius and Tullus were now secretly discoursing of their project with

the chief men of Antium, advising them to invade the Romans while they

were at variance among themselves.  And when shame appeared to hinder

them from embracing the motion, as they had sworn to a truce and

cessation of arms for the space of two years, the Romans themselves soon

furnished them with a pretense, by making proclamation, out of some

jealousy or slanderous report, in the midst of the spectacles, that all

the Volscians who had come to see them should depart the city before

sunset.  Some affirm that this was a contrivance of Marcius, who sent a

man privately to the consuls, falsely to accuse the Volscians of

intending to fall upon the Romans during the games, and to set the city

on fire.  This public affront roused and inflamed their hostility to the

Romans, and Tullus, perceiving it, made his advantage of it, aggravating

the fact, and working on their indignation, till he persuaded them, at

last, to dispatch ambassadors to Rome, requiring the Romans to restore

that part of their country and those towns which they had taken from the

Volscians in the late war.  When the Romans heard the message, they

indignantly replied, that the Volscians were the first that took up

arms, but the Romans would be the last to lay them down.  This answer

being brought back, Tullus called a general assembly of the Volscians;

and the vote passing for a war, he then proposed that they should call

in Marcius, laying aside the remembrance of former grudges, and

assuring themselves that the services they should now receive from him

as a friend and associate, would abundantly outweigh any harm or damage

he had done them when he was their enemy.  Marcius was accordingly

summoned, and having made his entrance, and spoken to the people, won

their good opinion of his capacity, his skill, counsel, and boldness,

not less by his present words than by his past actions.  They joined him

in commission with Tullus, to have full power as general of their forces

in all that related to the war.  And he, fearing lest the time that

would be requisite to bring all the Volscians together in full

preparation might be so long as to lose him the opportunity of action,

left order with the chief persons and magistrates of the city to provide

other things, while he himself, prevailing upon the most forward to

assemble and march out with him as volunteers without staying to be

enrolled, made a sudden inroad into the Roman confines, when nobody

expected him, and possessed himself of so much booty, that the Volscians

found they had more than they could either carry away or use in the

camp.  The abundance of provision which he gained, and the waste and

havoc of the country which he made, were, however, of themselves and in

his account, the smallest results of that invasion; the great mischief

he intended, and his special object in all, was to increase at Rome the

suspicions entertained of the patricians, and to make them upon worse

terms with the people.  With this view, while spoiling all the fields

and destroying the property of other men, he took special care to

preserve their farms and lands untouched, and would not allow his

soldiers to ravage there, or seize upon anything which belonged to

them.  From hence their invectives and quarrels against one another

broke out afresh, and rose to a greater height than ever; the senators

reproaching those of the commonalty with their late injustice to

Marcius; while the plebeians, on their side, did not hesitate to accuse

them of having, out of spite and revenge, solicited him to this

enterprise, and thus, when others were involved in the miseries of a war

by their means, they sat like unconcerned spectators, as being furnished

with a guardian and protector abroad of their wealth and fortunes, in

the very person of the public enemy.  After this incursion and exploit,

which was of great advantage to the Volscians, as they learned by it to

grow more hardy and to contemn their enemy, Marcius drew them off, and

returned in safety.

But when the whole strength of the Volscians was brought together into

the field, with great expedition and alacrity, it appeared so

considerable a body, that they agreed to leave part in garrison, for the

security of their towns, and with the other part to march against the

Romans.  Marcius now desired Tullus to choose which of the two charges

would be most agreeable to him.  Tullus answered, that since he knew

Marcius to be equally valiant with himself, and far more fortunate, he

would have him take the command of those that were going out to the war,

while he made it his care to defend their cities at home, and provide

all conveniences for the army abroad.  Marcius thus reinforced, and much

stronger than before, moved first towards the city called Circaeum, a

Roman colony.  He received its surrender, and did the inhabitants no

injury; passing thence, he entered and laid waste the country of the

Latins, where he expected the Romans would meet him, as the Latins were

their confederates and allies, and had often sent to demand succors from

them.  The people, however, on their part, showing little inclination

for the service, and the consuls themselves being unwilling to run the

hazard of a battle, when the time of their office was almost ready to

expire, they dismissed the Latin ambassadors without any effect; so that

Marcius, finding no army to oppose him, marched up to their cities, and,

having taken by force Toleria, Lavici, Peda, and Bola, all of which

offered resistance, not only plundered their houses, but made a prey

likewise of their persons.  Meantime, he showed particular regard for

all such as came over to his party, and, for fear they might sustain any

damage against his will, encamped at the greatest distance he could, and

wholly abstained from the lands of their property.

After, however, that he had made himself master of Bola, a town not

above ten miles from Rome, where he found great treasure, and put almost

all the adults to the sword; and when, on this, the other Volscians that

were ordered to stay behind and protect their cities, hearing of his

achievements and success, had not patience to remain any longer at home,

but came hastening in their arms to Marcius, saying that he alone was

their general and the sole commander they would own; with all this, his

name and renown spread throughout all Italy, and universal wonder

prevailed at the sudden and mighty revolution in the fortunes of two

nations which the loss and the accession of a single man had effected.

All at Rome was in great disorder; they were utterly averse from

fighting, and spent their whole time in cabals and disputes and

reproaches against each other; until news was brought that the enemy had

laid close siege to Lavinium, where were the images and sacred things of

their tutelar gods, and from whence they derived the origin of their

nation, that being the first city which Aeneas built in Italy.  These

tidings produced a change as universal as it was extraordinary in the

thoughts inclinations of the people, but occasioned a yet stranger

revulsion of feeling among the patricians.  The people now were for

repealing the sentence against Marcius, an calling him back into the

city; whereas the senate, being assembled to preconsider the decree,

opposed and finally rejected the proposal, either out of the mere humor

of contradicting and withstanding the people in whatever they should

desire, or because they were unwilling, perhaps, that he should owe his

restoration to their kindness or having now conceived a displeasure

against Marcius himself, who was bringing distress upon all alike,

though he had not been ill treated by all, and was become, declared

enemy to his whole country, though he knew well enough that the

principal and all the better men condoled with him, and suffered in his

injuries.

This resolution of theirs being made public, the people could proceed no

further, having no authority to pass anything by suffrage, and enact it

for a law, without a previous decree from the senate.  When Marcius

heard of this, he was more exasperated than ever, and, quitting the

seige of Lavinium, marched furiously towards Rome, and encamped at a

place called the Cluilian ditches, about five miles from the city.  The

nearness of his approach did, indeed, create much terror and

disturbance, yet it also ended their dissensions for the present; as

nobody now, whether consul or senator, durst any longer contradict the

people in their design of recalling Marcius but, seeing their women

running affrighted up and down the streets, and the old men at prayer in

every temple with tears and supplications, and that, in short, there was

a general absence among them both of courage and wisdom to provide for

their own safety, they came at last to be all of one mind, that the

people had been in the right to propose as they did a reconciliation

with Marcius, and that the senate was guilty of a fatal error to begin a

quarrel with him when it was a time to forget offenses, and they should

have studied rather to appease him.  It was, therefore, unanimously

agreed by all parties, that ambassadors should be dispatched, offering

him return to his country, and desiring he would free them from the

terrors and distresses of the war.  The persons sent by the senate with

this message were chosen out of his kindred and acquaintance, who

naturally expected a very kind reception at their first interview, upon

the score of that relation and their old familiarity and friendship with

him; in which, however, they were much mistaken.  Being led through the

enemy's camp, they found him sitting in state amidst the chief men of

the Volscians, looking insupportably proud and arrogant.  He bade them

declare the cause of their coming, which they did in the most gentle and

tender terms, and with a behavior suitable to their language.  When they

had made an end of speaking, he returned them a sharp answer, full of

bitterness and angry resentment, as to what concerned himself, and the

ill usage he had received from them; but as general of the Volscians, he

demanded restitution of the cities and the lands which had been seized

upon during the late war, and that the same rights and franchises should

be granted them at Rome, which had been before accorded to the Latins;

since there could be no assurance that a peace would be firm and

lasting, without fair and just conditions on both sides.  He allowed

them thirty days to consider and resolve.

The ambassadors being departed, he withdrew his forces out of the Roman

territory.  This, those of the Volscians who had long envied his

reputation, and could not endure to see the influence he had with the

people laid hold of, as the first matter of complaint against him.  Among

them was also Tullus himself, not for any wrong done him personally by

Marcius, but through the weakness incident to human nature.  He could

not help feeling mortified to find his own glory thus totally obscured,

and himself overlooked and neglected now by the Volscians, who had so

great an opinion of their new leader that he alone was all to them,

while other captains, they thought, should be content with that share of

power, which he might think fit to accord.  From hence the first seeds

of complaint and accusation were scattered about in secret, and the

malcontents met and heightened each other's indignation, saying, that to

retreat as he did was in effect to betray and deliver up, though not

their cities and their arms, yet what was as bad, the critical times and

opportunities for action, on which depend the preservation or the loss

of everything else; since in less than thirty days' space, for which he

had given a respite from the war, there might happen the greatest

changes in the world.  Yet Marcius spent not any part of the time idly,

but attacked the confederates of the enemy ravaged their land, and took

from them seven great and populous cities in that interval.  The Romans,

in the meanwhile, durst not venture out to their relief; but were

utterly fearful, and showed no more disposition or capacity for action,

than if their bodies had been struck with a palsy, and become destitute

of sense and motion.  But when the thirty days were expired, and Marcius

appeared again with his whole army, they sent another embassy- to

beseech him that he would moderate his displeasure, and would withdraw

the Volscian army, and then make any proposals he thought best for both

parties; the Romans would make no concessions to menaces, but if it

were his opinion that the Volscians ought to have any favor shown them,

upon laying down their arms they might obtain all they could in reason

desire.

The reply of Marcius was, that he should make no answer to this as

general of the Volscians, but, in the quality still of a Roman citizen,

he would advise and exhort them, as the case stood, not to carry it so

high, but think rather of just compliance, and return to him, before

three days were at an end, with a ratification of his previous demands;

otherwise, they must understand that they could not have any further

freedom of passing through his camp upon idle errands.

When the ambassadors were come back, and had acquainted the senate with

the answer, seeing the whole state now threatened as it were by a

tempest, and the waves ready to overwhelm them, they were forced, as we

say in extreme perils, to let down the sacred anchor.  A decree was

made, that the whole order of their priests, those who initiated in the

mysteries or had the custody of them, and those who, according to the

ancient practice of the country, divined from birds, should all and

every one of them go in full procession to Marcius with their pontifical

array, and the dress and habit which they respectively used in their

several functions, and should urge him, as before, to withdraw his

forces, and then treat with his countrymen in favor of the Volscians.

He consented so far, indeed, as to give the deputation an admittance

into his camp, but granted nothing at all, nor so much as expressed

himself more mildly; but, without capitulating or receding, bade them

once for all choose whether they would yield or fight, since the old

terms were the only terms of peace.  When this solemn application proved

ineffectual, the priests, too, returning unsuccessful, they determined to

sit still within the city, and keep watch about their walls, intending

only to repulse the enemy, should he offer to attack them, and placing

their hopes chiefly in time and in extraordinary accidents of fortune;

as to themselves, they felt incapable of doing any thing for their own

deliverance; mere confusion and terror and ill-boding reports possessed

the whole city; till at last a thing happened not unlike what we so

often find represented, without, however, being accepted as true by

people in general, in Homer.  On some great and unusual occasion we find

him say: —

But him the blue-eyed goddess did inspire;

and elsewhere: —

But some immortal turned my mind away,

To think what others of the deed would say;

and again: —

Were 't his own thought or were 't a god's command.

People are apt, in such passages, to censure and disregard the poet, as

if, by the introduction of mere impossibilities and idle fictions, he

were denying the action of a man's own deliberate thought and free

choice; which is not, in the least, the case in Homer's representation,

where the ordinary, probable, and habitual conclusions that common

reason leads to are continually ascribed to our own direct agency.  He

certainly says frequently enough: —

But I consulted with my own great soul;

or, as in another passage: —

He spoke.  Achilles, with quick pain possessed,

Revolved two purposes in his strong breast;

and in a third: —

— Yet never to her wishes won

The just mind of the brave Bellerophon.

But where the act is something out of the way and extraordinary, and

seems in a manner to demand some impulse of divine possession and sudden

inspiration to account for it here he does introduce divine agency, not

to destroy, but to prompt the human will; not to create in us another

agency, but offering images to stimulate our own; images that in no sort

or kind make our action involuntary, but give occasion rather to

spontaneous action, aided and sustained by feelings of confidence and

hope.  For either we must totally dismiss and exclude divine influences

from every kind of causality and origination in what we do, or else what

other way can we conceive in which divine aid and cooperation can act?

Certainly we cannot suppose that the divine beings actually and

literally turn our bodies and direct our hands and our feet this way or

that, to do what is right:  it is obvious that they must actuate the

practical and elective element of our nature, by certain initial

occasions, by images presented to the imagination, and thoughts

suggested to the mind, such either as to excite it to, or avert and

withhold it from, any particular course.

In the perplexity which I have described, the Roman women went, some to

other temples, but the greater part, and the ladies of highest rank, to

the altar of Jupiter Capitolinus.  Among these suppliants was Valeria,

sister to the great Poplicola, who did the Romans eminent service both

in peace and war.  Poplicola himself was now deceased, as is told in the

history of his life; but Valeria lived still, and enjoyed great respect

and honor at Rome, her life and conduct no way disparaging her birth.

She, suddenly seized with the sort of instinct or emotion of mind which

I have described, and happily lighting, not without divine guidance,

on the right expedient, both rose herself, and bade the others rise,

and went directly with them to the house of Volumnia, the mother of

Marcius.  And coming in and finding her sitting with her daughter-in-

law, and with her little grandchildren on her lap, Valeria, then

surrounded by her female companions, spoke in the name of them all:—

"We that now make our appearance, O Volumnia, and you, Vergilia, are

come as mere women to women, not by direction of the senate, or an order

from the consuls, or the appointment of any other magistrate; but the

divine being himself, as I conceive, moved to compassion by prayers,

prompted us to visit you in a body, and request a thing on which our own

and the common safety depends, and which, if you consent to it, will

raise your glory above that of the daughters of the Sabines, who won

over their fathers and their husbands from mortal enmity to peace and

friendship.  Arise and come with us to Marcius; join in our

supplication, and bear for your country this true and just testimony on

her behalf:  that, notwithstanding the many mischiefs that have been

done her, yet she has never outraged you, nor so much as thought of

treating you ill, in all her resentment, but does now restore you safe

into his hands, though there be small likelihood she should obtain from

him any equitable terms."

The words of Valeria were seconded by the acclamations of the other

women, to which Volumnia made answer:—

"I and Vergilia, my countrywomen, have an equal share with you all in

the common miseries, and we have the additional sorrow, which is wholly

ours, that we have lost the merit and good fame of Marcius, and see his

person confined, rather than protected, by the arms of the enemy.  Yet I

account this the greatest of all misfortunes, if indeed the affairs of

Rome be sunk to so feeble a state as to have their last dependence upon

us.  For it is hardly imaginable he should have any consideration left

for us, when he has no regard for the country which he was wont to

prefer before his mother and wife and children.  Make use, however, of

our service; and lead us, if you please, to him; we are able, if nothing

more, at least to spend our last breath in making suit to him for our

country."

Having spoken thus, she took Vergilia by the hand, and the young

children, and so accompanied them to the Volscian camp.  So lamentable a

sight much affected the enemies themselves, who viewed them in

respectful silence.  Marcius was then sitting in his place, with his

chief officers about him, and, seeing the party of women advance toward

them, wondered what should be the matter; but perceiving at length that

his mother was at the head of them, he would fain have hardened himself

in his former inexorable temper, but, overcome by his feelings, and

confounded at what he saw, he did not endure they should approach him

sitting in state, but came down hastily to meet them, saluting his

mother first, and embracing her a long time, and then his wife and

children, sparing neither tears nor caresses, but suffering himself to

be borne away and carried headlong, as it were, by the impetuous

violence of his passion.

When he had satisfied himself, and observed that his mother Volumnia was

desirous to say something, the Volscian council being first called in,

he heard her to the following effect:  "Our dress and our very persons,

my son, might tell you, though we should say nothing ourselves, in how

forlorn a condition we have lived at home since your banishment and

absence from us; and now consider with yourself, whether we may not pass

for the most unfortunate of all women, to have that sight, which should

be the sweetest that we could see, converted, through I know not what

fatality, to one of all others the most formidable and dreadful, —

Volumnia to behold her son, and Vergilia her husband, in arms against

the walls of Rome.  Even prayer itself, whence others gain comfort and

relief in all manner of misfortunes, is that which most adds to our

confusion and distress; since our best wishes are inconsistent with

themselves, nor can we at the same time petition the gods for Rome's

victory and your preservation, but what the worst of our enemies would

imprecate as a curse, is the very object of our vows.  Your wife and

children are under the sad necessity, that they must either be deprived

of you, or of their native soil.  As for myself, I am resolved not to

wait till war shall determine this alternative for me; but if I cannot

prevail with you to prefer amity and concord to quarrel and hostility,

and to be the benefactor to both parties, rather than the destroyer of

one of them, be assured of this from me, and reckon steadfastly upon it,

that you shall not be able to reach your country, unless you trample

first upon the corpse of her that brought you into life.  For it will be

ill in me to wait and loiter in the world till the day come wherein I

shall see a child of mine, either led in triumph by his own countrymen,

or triumphing over them.  Did I require you to save your country by

ruining the Volscians, then, I confess, my son, the case would be hard

for you to solve.  It is base to bring destitution on our fellow-

citizens; it is unjust to betray those who have placed their confidence

in us.  But, as it is, we do but desire a deliverance equally expedient

for them and us; only more glorious and honorable on the Volscian side,

who, as superior in arms, will be thought freely to bestow the two

greatest of blessings, peace and friendship, even when they themselves

receive the same.  If we obtain these, the common thanks will be chiefly

due to you as the principal cause; but if they be not granted, you alone

must expect to bear the blame from both nations.  The chance of all war

is uncertain, yet thus much is certain in the present, that you, by

conquering Rome, will only get the reputation of having undone your

country; but if the Volscians happen to be defeated under your conduct,

then the world will say, that, to satisfy a revengeful humor, you

brought misery on your friends and patrons."

Marcius listened to his mother while she spoke, without answering her a

word; and Volumnia, seeing him stand mute also for a long time after she

had ceased, resumed:  "O my son," said she, "what is the meaning of this

silence?  Is it a duty to postpone everything to a sense of injuries,

and wrong to gratify a mother in a request like this?  Is it the

characteristic of a great man to remember wrongs that have been done

him, and not the part of a great and good man to remember benefits such

as those that children receive from parents, and to requite them with

honor and respect?  You, methinks, who are so relentless in the

punishment of the ungrateful, should not be more careless than others to

be grateful yourself.  You have punished your country already; you have

not yet paid your debt to me.  Nature and religion, surely, unattended

by any constraint, should have won your consent to petitions so worthy

and so just as these; but if it must be so, I will even use my last

resource."  Having said this, she threw herself down at his feet, as did

also his wife and children; upon which Marcius, crying out, "O mother!

what is it you have done to me?" raised her up from the ground, and

pressing her right hand with more than ordinary vehemence, "You have

gained a victory," said he, "fortunate enough for the Romans, but

destructive to your son; whom you, though none else, have defeated."

After which, and a little private conference with his mother and his

wife, he sent them back again to Rome, as they desired of him.

The next morning, he broke up his camp, and led the Volscians homeward,

variously affected with what he had done; some of them complaining of

him and condemning his act, others, who were inclined to a peaceful

conclusion, unfavorable to neither.  A third party, while much disliking

his proceedings, yet could not look upon Marcius as a treacherous

person, but thought it pardonable in him to be thus shaken and driven to

surrender at last, under such compulsion.  None, however, opposed his

commands; they all obediently followed him, though rather from

admiration of his virtue, than any regard they now had to his authority.

The Roman people, meantime, more effectually manifested how much fear

and danger they had been in while the war lasted, by their deportment

after they were freed from it.  Those that guarded the walls had no

sooner given notice that the Volscians were dislodged and drawn off, but

they set open all their temples in a moment, and began to crown

themselves with garlands and prepare for sacrifice, as they were wont to

do upon tidings brought of any signal victory.  But the joy and

transport of the whole city was chiefly remarkable in the honors and

marks of affection paid to the women, as well by the senate as the

people in general; every one declaring that they were, beyond all

question, the instruments of the public safety.  And the senate having

passed a decree that whatsoever they would ask in the way of any favor

or honor should be allowed and done for them by the magistrates, they

demanded simply that a temple might be erected to Female Fortune, the

expense of which they offered to defray out of their own contributions,

if the city would be at the cost of sacrifices, and other matters

pertaining to the due honor of the gods, out of the common treasury.

The senate, much commending their public spirit, caused the temple to be

built and a statue set up in it at the public charge; they, however,

made up a sum among themselves, for a second image of Fortune, which

the Romans say uttered, as it was putting up, words to this effect,

"Blessed of the gods, O women, is your gift."

These words they profess were repeated a second time, expecting our

belief for what seems pretty nearly an impossibility.  It may be

possible enough, that statues may seem to sweat, and to run with tears,

and to stand with certain dewy drops of a sanguine color; for timber and

stones are frequently known to contract a kind of scurf and rottenness,

productive of moisture; and various tints may form on the surfaces, both

from within and from the action of the air outside; and by these signs

it is not absurd to imagine that the deity may forewarn us.  It may

happen, also, that images and statues may sometimes make a noise not

unlike that of a moan or groan, through a rupture or violent internal

separation of the parts; but that an articulate voice, and such express

words, and language so clear and exact and elaborate, should proceed

from inanimate things, is, in my judgment, a thing utterly out of

possibility.  For it was never known that either the soul of man, or the

deity himself, uttered vocal sounds and language, alone, without an

organized body and members fitted for speech.  But where history seems

in a manner to force our assent by the concurrence of numerous and

credible witnesses, we are to conclude that an impression distinct from

sensation affects the imaginative part of our nature, and then carries

away the judgment, so as to believe it to be a sensation:  just as in

sleep we fancy we see and hear, without really doing either.  Persons,

however, whose strong feelings of reverence to the deity, and tenderness

for religion, will not allow them to deny or invalidate anything of

this kind, have certainly a strong argument for their faith, in the

wonderful and transcendent character of the divine power; which admits

no manner of comparison with ours, either in its nature or its action,

the modes or the strength of its operations.  It is no contradiction to

reason that it should do things that we cannot do, and effect what for

us is impracticable:  differing from us in all respects, in its acts yet

more than in other points we may well believe it to be unlike us and

remote from us.  Knowledge of divine things for the most part, as

Heraclitus says, is lost to us by incredulity.

When Marcius came back to Antium, Tullus, who thoroughly hated and

greatly feared him, proceeded at once to contrive how he might

immediately dispatch him; as, if he escaped now, he was never likely to

give him such another advantage.  Having, therefore, got together and

suborned several partisans against him, he required Marcius to resign

his charge, and give the Volscians all account of his administration.

He, apprehending the danger of a private condition, while Tullus held

the office of general and exercised the greatest power among his fellow-

citizens, made answer, that he was ready to lay down his commission,

whenever those from whose common authority he had received it, should

think fit to recall it; and that in the meantime he was ready to give

the Antiates satisfaction, as to all particulars of his conduct, if they

were desirous of it.

An assembly was called, and popular speakers, as had been concerted,

came forward to exasperate and incense the multitude; but when Marcius

stood up to answer, the more unruly and tumultuous part of the people

became quiet on a sudden, and out of reverence allowed him to speak

without the least disturbance; while all the better people, and such as

were satisfied with a peace, made it evident by their whole behavior,

that they would give him a favorable hearing, and judge and pronounce

according to equity.

Tullus, therefore, began to dread the issue of the defense he was going

to make for himself; for he was an admirable speaker, and the former

services he had done the Volscians had procured and still preserved for

him greater kindness than could be outweighed by any blame for his late

conduct.  Indeed, the very accusation itself was a proof and testimony

of the greatness of his merits, since people could never have complained

or thought themselves wronged, because Rome was not brought into their

power, but that by his means they had come so near to taking it.  For

these reasons, the conspirators judged it prudent not to make any

further delays, nor to test the general feeling; but the boldest of

their faction, crying out that they ought not to listen to a traitor,

nor allow him still to retain office and play the tyrant among them,

fell upon Marcius in a body, and slew him there, none of those that were

present offering to defend him.  But it quickly appeared that the action

was in nowise approved by the majority of the Volscians, who hurried out

of their several cities to show respect to his corpse; to which they

gave honorable interment, adorning his sepulchre with arms and trophies,

as the monument of a noble hero and a famous general.  When the Romans

heard tidings of his death, they gave no other signification either of

honor or of anger towards him, but simply granted the request of the

women, that they might put themselves into mourning and bewail him for

ten months, as the usage was upon the loss of a father or a son or a

brother; that being the period fixed for the longest lamentation by the

laws of Numa Pompilius, as is more amply told in the account of him.

Marcius was no sooner deceased, but the Volscians felt the need of his

assistance.  They quarreled first with the Aequians, their confederates

and their friends, about the appointment of the general of their joint

forces, and carried their dispute to the length of bloodshed and

slaughter; and were then defeated by the Romans in a pitched battle,

where not only Tullus lost his life, but the principal flower of their

whole army was cut in pieces; so that they were forced to submit and

accept of peace upon very dishonorable terms, becoming subjects of Rome,

and pledging themselves to submission.

COMPARISON OF ALCIBIADES WITH CORIOLANUS

Having described all their actions that seem to deserve commemoration,

their military ones, we may say, incline the balance very decidedly upon

neither side.  They both, in pretty equal measure, displayed on numerous

occasions the daring and courage of the soldier, and the skill and

foresight of the general; unless, indeed, the fact that Alcibiades was

victorious and successful in many contests both by sea and land, ought

to gain him the title of a more complete commander.  That so long as

they remained and held command in their respective countries, they

eminently sustained, and when they were driven into exile, yet more

eminently damaged the fortunes of those countries, is common to both.

All the sober citizens felt disgust at the petulance, the low flattery,

and base seductions which Alcibiades, in his public life, allowed

himself to employ with the view of winning the people's favor; and the

ungraciousness, pride, and oligarchical haughtiness which Marcius, on

the other hand, displayed in his, were the abhorrence of the Roman

populace.  Neither of these courses can be called commendable; but a man

who ingratiates himself by indulgence and flattery, is hardly so

censurable as one who, to avoid the appearance of flattering, insults.

To seek power by servility to the people is a disgrace, but to maintain

it by terror, violence, and oppression, is not a disgrace only, but an

injustice.

Marcius, according to our common conceptions of his character, was

undoubtedly simple and straightforward; Alcibiades, unscrupulous as a

public man, and false.  He is more especially blamed for the

dishonorable and treacherous way in which, as Thucydides relates, he

imposed upon the Lacedaemonian ambassadors, and disturbed the

continuance of the peace.  Yet this policy, which engaged the city again

in war, nevertheless placed it in a powerful and formidable position, by

the accession, which Alcibiades obtained for it, of the alliance of

Argos and Mantinea.  And Coriolanus also, Dionysius relates, used unfair

means to excite war between the Romans and the Volscians, in the false

report which he spread about the visitors at the Games; and the motive

of this action seems to make it the worse of the two; since it was not

done, like the other, out of ordinary political jealousy, strife, and

competition.  Simply to gratify anger, from which, as Ion says, no one

ever yet got any return, he threw whole districts of Italy into

confusion, and sacrificed to his passion against his country numerous

innocent cities.  It is true, indeed, that Alcibiades also, by his

resentment, was the occasion of great disasters to his country, but he

relented as soon as he found their feelings to be changed; and after he

was driven out a second time, so far from taking pleasure in the errors

and inadvertencies of their commanders, or being indifferent to the

danger they were thus incurring, he did the very thing that Aristides is

so highly commended for doing to Themistocles: he came to the generals

who were his enemies, and pointed out to them what they ought to do.

Coriolanus, on the other hand, first of all attacked the whole body of

his countrymen, though only one portion of them had done him any wrong,

while the other, the better and nobler portion, had actually suffered,

as well as sympathized, with him.  And, secondly, by the obduracy with

which he resisted numerous embassies and supplications, addressed in

propitiation of his single anger and offense, he showed that it had been

to destroy and overthrow, not to recover and regain his country, that he

had excited bitter and implacable hostilities against it.  There is,

indeed, one distinction that may be drawn.  Alcibiades, it may be said,

was not safe among the Spartans, and had the inducements at once of fear

and of hatred to lead him again to Athens; whereas Marcius could not

honorably have left the Volscians, when they were behaving so well to

him: he, in the command of their forces and the enjoyment of their

entire confidence, was in a very different position from Alcibiades,

whom the Lacedaemonians did not so much wish to adopt into their

service, as to use, and then abandon.  Driven about from house to house

in the city, and from general to general in the camp, the latter had no

resort but to place himself in the hands of Tisaphernes; unless, indeed,

we are to suppose that his object in courting favor with him was to

avert the entire destruction of his native city, whither he wished

himself to return.

As regards money, Alcibiades, we are told, was often guilty of procuring

it by accepting bribes, and spent it in in luxury and dissipation.

Coriolanus declined to receive it, even when pressed upon him by his

commanders as all honor; and one great reason for the odium he incurred

with the populace in the discussions about their debts was, that he

trampled upon the poor, not for money's sake, but out of pride and

insolence.

Antipater, in a letter written upon the death of Aristotle the

philosopher, observes, "Amongst his other gifts he had that of

persuasiveness;" and the absence of this in the character of Marcius

made all his great actions and noble qualities unacceptable to those

whom they benefited: pride, and self-will, the consort, as Plato calls

it, of solitude, made him insufferable.  With the skill which Alcibiades

on the contrary, possessed to treat every one in the way most agreeable

to him, we cannot wonder that all his successes were attended with the

most exuberant favor and honor; his very errors, at times, being

accompanied by something of grace and felicity.  And so, in spite of

great and frequent hurt that he had done the city, he was repeatedly

appointed to office and command; while Coriolanus stood in vain for a

place which his great services had made his due.  The one, in spite of

the harm he occasioned, could not make himself hated, nor the other,

with all the admiration he attracted, succeed in being beloved by his

countrymen.

Coriolanus, moreover, it should be said, did not as a general obtain any

successes for his country, but only for his enemies against his country.

Alcibiades was often of service to Athens, both as a soldier and as a

commander.  So long as he was personally present, he had the perfect

mastery of his political adversaries; calumny only succeeded in his

absence.  Coriolanus was condemned in person at Rome; and in like manner

killed by the Volscians, not indeed with any right or justice, yet not

without some pretext occasioned by his own acts; since, after rejecting

all conditions of peace in public, in private he yielded to the

solicitations of the women, and, without establishing peace, threw up

the favorable chances of war.  He ought, before retiring, to have

obtained the consent of those who had placed their trust in him; if

indeed he considered their claims on him to be the strongest.  Or, if we

say that he did not care about the Volscians, but merely had prosecuted

the war, which he now abandoned, for the satisfaction of his own

resentment, then the noble thing would have been, not to spare his

country for his mother's sake, but his mother in and with his country;

since both his mother and his wife were part and parcel of that

endangered country.  After harshly repelling public supplications, the

entreaties of ambassadors, and the prayers of priests, to concede all as

a private favor to his mother was less an honor to her than a dishonor

to the city which thus escaped, in spite, it would seem, of its own

demerits, through the intercession of a single woman.  Such a grace

could, indeed, seem merely invidious, ungracious, and unreasonable in

the eyes of both parties; he retreated without listening to the

persuasions of his opponents, or asking the consent of his friends.  The

origin of all lay in his unsociable, supercilious, and self-willed

disposition, which, in all cases, is offensive to most people; and when

combined with a passion for distinction passes into absolute savageness

and mercilessness.  Men decline to ask favors of the people, professing

not to need any honors from them; and then are indignant if they do not

obtain them.  Metellus, Aristides, and Epaminondas certainly did not beg

favors of the multitude; but that was because they, in real truth, did

not value the gifts which a popular body can either confer or refuse;

and when they were more than once driven into exile, rejected at

elections, and condemned in courts of justice, they showed no resentment

at the ill-humor of their fellow-citizens, but were willing and

contented to return and be reconciled when the feeling altered and they

were wished for.  He who least likes courting favor, ought also least to

think of resenting neglect: to feel wounded at being refused a

distinction can only arise from an overweening appetite to have it.

Alcibiades never professed to deny that it was pleasant to him to be

honored, and distasteful to him to be overlooked; and, accordingly, he

always tried to place himself upon good terms with all that he met;

Coriolanus's pride forbade him to pay attentions to those who could have

promoted his advancement, and yet his love of distinction made him feel

hurt and angry when he was disregarded.  Such are the faulty parts of

his character, which in all other respects was a noble one.  For his

temperance, continence, and probity, he might claim to be compared with

the best and purest of the Greeks; not in any sort or kind with

Alcibiades, the least scrupulous and most entirely careless of human

beings in all these points.

TIMOLEON

It was for the sake of others that I first commenced writing

biographies; but I find myself proceeding and attaching myself to it

for my own; the virtues of these great men serving me as a sort of

looking-glass, in which I may see how to adjust and adorn my own

life.  Indeed, it can be compared to nothing but daily living and

associating together; we receive, as it were, in our inquiry, and

entertain each successive guest, view

Their stature and their qualities,

and select from their actions all that is noblest and worthiest to

know.

Ah, and what greater pleasure could one have?

or, what more effective means to one's moral improvement? Democritus

tells us we ought to pray that of the phantasms appearing in the

circumambient air, such may present themselves to us as are

propitious, and that we may rather meet with those that are agreeable

to our natures and are good, than the evil and unfortunate; which is

simply introducing into philosophy a doctrine untrue in itself, and

leading to endless superstitions.  My method, on the contrary, is, by

the study of history, and by the familiarity acquired in writing, to

habituate my memory to receive and retain images of the best and

worthiest characters.  I thus am enabled to free myself from any

ignoble, base, or vicious impressions, contracted from the contagion

of ill company that I may be unavoidably engaged in, by the remedy of

turning my thoughts in a happy and calm temper to view these noble

examples.  Of this kind are those of Timoleon the Corinthian, and

Paulus Aemilius, to write whose lives is my present business; men

equally famous, not only for their virtues, but success; insomuch

that they have left it doubtful whether they owe their greatest

achievements to good fortune, or their own prudence and conduct.

The affairs of the Syracusans, before Timoleon was sent into Sicily,

were in this posture:  after Dion had driven out Dionysius the

tyrant, he was slain by treachery, and those that had assisted him in

delivering Syracuse were divided among themselves; and thus the city,

by a continual change of governors, and a train of mischiefs that

succeeded each other, became almost abandoned; while of the rest of

Sicily, part was now utterly depopulated and desolate through long

continuance of war, and most of the cities that had been left

standing were in the hands of barbarians and soldiers out of

employment, that were ready to embrace every turn of government.

Such being the state of things, Dionysius takes the opportunity, and

in the tenth year of his banishment, by the help of some mercenary

troops he had got together, forces out Nysaeus, then master of

Syracuse, recovers all afresh, and is again settled in his dominion;

and as at first he had been strangely deprived of the greatest and

most absolute power that ever was, by a very small party, so now in a

yet stranger manner; when in exile and of mean condition, he became

the sovereign of those who had ejected him.  All, therefore, that

remained in Syracuse, had to serve under a tyrant, who at the best

was of an ungentle nature, and exasperated now to a degree of

savageness by the late misfortunes and calamities he had suffered.

The better and more distinguished citizens, having timely retired

thence to Hicetes, ruler of the Leontines, put themselves under his

protection, and chose him for their general in the war; not that he

was much preferable to any open and avowed tyrant; but they had no

other sanctuary at present, and it gave them some ground of

confidence, that he was of a Syracusan family, and had forces able to

encounter those of Dionysius.

In the meantime, the Carthaginians appeared before Sicily with a

great navy, watching when and where they might make a descent upon

the island; and terror at this fleet made the Sicilians incline to

send an embassy into Greece to demand succors from the Corinthians,

whom they confided in rather than others, not only upon the account

of their near kindred, and the great benefits they had often received

by trusting them, but because Corinth had ever shown herself attached

to freedom and averse from tyranny, and had engaged in many noble

wars, not for empire or aggrandizement, but for the sole liberty of

the Greeks.  But Hicetes, who made it the business of his command not

so much to deliver the Syracusans from other tyrants, as to enslave

them to himself, had already entered into some secret conferences

with those of Carthage, while in public he commended the design of

his Syracusan clients, and dispatched ambassadors from himself,

together with theirs, into Peloponnesus; not that he really desired

any relief to come from there, but, in case the Corinthians, as was

likely enough, on account of the troubles of Greece and occupation at

home, should refuse their assistance, hoping then he should be able

with less difficulty to dispose and incline things for the

Carthaginian interest, and so make use of these foreign pretenders,

as instruments and auxiliaries for himself, either against the

Syracusans or Dionysius, as occasion served.  This was discovered a

while after.

The ambassadors being arrived, and their request known, the

Corinthians, who had always a great concern for all their colonies

and plantations, but especially for Syracuse, since by good fortune

there was nothing to molest them in their own country, where they

were enjoying peace and leisure at that time, readily and with one

accord passed a vote for their assistance.  And when they were

deliberating about the choice of a captain for the expedition, and

the magistrates were urging the claims of various aspirants for

reputation, one of the crowd stood up and named Timoleon, son of

Timodemus, who had long absented himself from public business, and

had neither any thoughts of, nor the least pretension to, an

employment of that nature.  Some god or other, it might rather seem,

had put it in the man's heart to mention him; such favor and

good-will on the part of Fortune seemed at once to be shown in his

election, and to accompany all his following actions, as though it

were on purpose to commend his worth, and add grace and ornament to

his personal virtues.  As regards his parentage, both Timodemus his

father, and his mother Demariste, were of high rank in the city; and

as for himself, he was noted for his love of his country, and his

gentleness of temper, except in his extreme hatred to tyrants and

wicked men.  His natural abilities for war were so happily tempered,

that while a rare prudence might be seen in all the enterprises of

his younger years, an equal courage showed itself in the last

exploits of his declining age.  He had an elder brother, whose name

was Timophanes, who was every way unlike him, being indiscreet and

rash, and infected by the suggestions of some friends and foreign

soldiers, whom he kept always about him, with a passion for absolute

power.  He seemed to have a certain force and vehemence in all

military service, and even to delight in dangers, and thus he took

much with the people, and was advanced to the highest charges, as a

vigorous and effective warrior; in the obtaining of which offices and

promotions, Timoleon much assisted him, helping to conceal or at

least to extenuate his errors, embellishing by his praise whatever

was commendable in him, and setting off his good qualities to the

best advantage.

It happened once in the battle fought by the Corinthians against the

forces of Argos and Cleonae, that Timoleon served among the infantry,

when Timophanes, commanding their cavalry, was brought into extreme

danger; as his horse being wounded fell forward, and threw him

headlong amidst the enemies, while part of his companions dispersed

at once in a panic, and the small number that remained, bearing up

against a great multitude, had much ado to maintain any resistance.

As soon, therefore, as Timoleon was aware of the accident, he ran

hastily in to his brother's rescue, and covering the fallen

Timophanes with his buckler, after having received abundance of

darts, and several strokes by the sword upon his body and his armor,

he at length with much difficulty obliged the enemies to retire, and

brought off his brother alive and safe.  But when the Corinthians, for

fear of losing their city a second time, as they had once before, by

admitting their allies, made a decree to maintain four hundred

mercenaries for its security, and gave Timophanes the command over

them, he, abandoning all regard to honor and equity, at once

proceeded to put into execution his plans for making himself

absolute, and bringing the place under his own power; and having cut

off many principal citizens, uncondemned and without trial, who were

most likely to hinder his design, he declared himself tyrant of

Corinth; a procedure that infinitely afflicted Timoleon, to whom the

wickedness of such a brother appeared to be his own reproach and

calamity.  He undertook to persuade him by reasoning, that, desisting

from that wild and unhappy ambition, he would bethink himself how he

should make the Corinthians some amends, and find out an expedient to

remedy and correct the evils he had done them.  When his single

admonition was rejected and contemned by him, he makes a second

attempt, taking with him Aeschylus his kinsman, brother to the wife

of Timophanes, and a certain diviner, that was his friend, whom

Theopompus in his history calls Satyrus, but Ephorus and Timaeus

mention in theirs by the name of Orthagoras.  After a few days, then,

he returns to his brother with this company, all three of them

surrounding and earnestly importuning him upon the same subject, that

now at length he would listen to reason, and be of another mind.  But

when Timophanes began first to laugh at the men's simplicity, and

presently broke out into rage and indignation against them, Timoleon

stepped aside from him and stood weeping with his face covered, while

the other two, drawing out their swords, dispatched him in a moment.

On the rumor of this act being soon scattered about, the better and

more generous of the Corinthians highly applauded Timoleon for the

hatred of wrong and the greatness of soul that had made him, though

of a gentle disposition and full of love and kindness for his family,

think the obligations to his country stronger than the ties of

consanguinity, and prefer that which is good and just before gain and

interest and his own particular advantage.  For the same brother, who

with so much bravery had been saved by him when he fought valiantly

in the cause of Corinth, he had now as nobly sacrificed for enslaving

her afterward by a base and treacherous usurpation.  But then, on the

other side, those that knew not how to live in a democracy, and had

been used to make their humble court to the men of power, though they

openly professed to rejoice at the death of the tyrant, nevertheless,

secretly reviling Timoleon, as one that had committed an impious and

abominable act, drove him into melancholy and dejection.  And when he

came to understand how heavily his mother took it, and that she

likewise uttered the saddest complaints and most terrible

imprecations against him, he went to satisfy and comfort her as to

what had happened; and finding that she would not endure so much as

to look upon him, but caused her doors to be shut, that he might have

no admission into her presence, with grief at this he grew so

disordered in his mind and so disconsolate, that he determined to put

an end to his perplexity with his life, by abstaining from all manner

of sustenance.  But through the care and diligence of his friends,

who were very instant with him, and added force to their entreaties,

he came to resolve and promise at last, that he would endure living,

provided it might be in solitude, and remote from company; so that,

quitting all civil transactions and commerce with the world, for a

long while after his first retirement he never came into Corinth, but

wandered up and down the fields, full of anxious and tormenting

thoughts, and spent his time in desert places, at the farthest

distance from society and human intercourse.  So true it is that the

minds of men are easily shaken and carried off from their own

sentiments through the casual commendation or reproof of others,

unless the judgments that we make, and the purposes we conceive, be

confirmed by reason and philosophy, and thus obtain strength and

steadiness.  An action must not only be just and laudable in its own

nature, but it must proceed likewise from solid motives and a lasting

principle, that so we may fully and constantly approve the thing, and

be perfectly satisfied in what we do; for otherwise, after having put

our resolution into practice, we shall out of pure weakness come to

be troubled at the performance, when the grace and goodliness, which

rendered it before so amiable and pleasing to us, begin to decay and

wear out of our fancy; like greedy people, who, seizing on the more

delicious morsels of any dish with a keen appetite, are presently

disgusted when they grow full, and find themselves oppressed and

uneasy now by what they before so greedily desired.  For a succeeding

dislike spoils the best of actions, and repentance makes that which

was never so well done, become base and faulty; whereas the choice

that is founded upon knowledge and wise reasoning, does not change by

disappointment, or suffer us to repent, though it happen perchance to

be less prosperous in the issue.  And thus Phocion, of Athens, having

always vigorously opposed the measures of Leosthenes, when success

appeared to attend them, and he saw his countrymen rejoicing and

offering sacrifice in honor of their victory, "I should have been as

glad," said he to them, "that I myself had been the author of what

Leosthenes has achieved for you, as I am that I gave you my own

counsel against it."  A more vehement reply is recorded to have been

made by Aristides the Locrian, one of Plato's companions, to

Dionysius the elder, who demanded one of his daughters in marriage:

"I had rather," said he to him, "see the virgin in her grave, than in

the palace of a tyrant."  And when Dionysius, enraged at the affront,

made his sons be put to death a while after, and then again

insultingly asked, whether he were still in the same mind as to the

disposal of his daughters, his answer was, "I cannot but grieve at

the cruelty of your deeds, but am not sorry for the freedom of my own

words."  Such expressions as these may belong perhaps to a more

sublime and accomplished virtue.

The grief, however, of Timoleon at what had been done, whether it

arose from commiseration of his brother's fate, or the reverence he

bore his mother, so shattered and broke his spirits, that for the

space of almost twenty years, he had not offered to concern himself

in any honorable or public action.  When, therefore, he was pitched

upon for a general, and joyfully accepted as such by the suffrages of

the people, Teleclides, who was at that time the most powerful and

distinguished man in Corinth, began to exhort him that he would act

now like a man of worth and gallantry:  "For," said he, "if you do

bravely in this service, we shall believe that you delivered us from

a tyrant; but if otherwise, that you killed your brother."  While he

was yet preparing to set sail, and enlisting soldiers to embark with

him, there came letters to the Corinthians from Hicetes, plainly

disclosing his revolt and treachery.  For his ambassadors were no

sooner gone for Corinth, but he openly joined the Carthaginians,

negotiating that they might assist him to throw out Dionysius, and

become master of Syracuse in his room.  And fearing he might be

disappointed of his aim, if troops and a commander should come from

Corinth before this were effected, he sent a letter of advice

thither, in all haste, to prevent their setting out, telling them

they need not be at any cost and trouble upon his account, or run the

hazard of a Sicilian voyage, especially since the Carthaginians,

alliance with whom against Dionysius the slowness of their motions

had compelled him to embrace, would dispute their passage, and lay in

wait to attack them with a numerous fleet.  This letter being

publicly read, if any had been cold and indifferent before as to the

expedition in hand, the indignation they now conceived against

Hicetes so exasperated and inflamed them all, that they willingly

contributed to supply Timoleon, and endeavored, with one accord, to

hasten his departure.

When the vessels were equipped, and his soldiers every way provided

for, the female priests of Proserpina had a dream or vision, wherein

she and her mother Ceres appeared to them in a traveling garb, and

were heard to say that they were going to sail with Timoleon into

Sicily; whereupon the Corinthians, having built a sacred galley,

devoted it to them, and called it the galley of the goddesses.

Timoleon went in person to Delphi, where he sacrificed to Apollo,

and, descending into the place of prophecy, was surprised with the

following marvelous occurrence.  A riband with crowns and figures of

victory embroidered upon it, slipped off from among the gifts that

were there consecrated and hung up in the temple, and fell directly

down upon his head; so that Apollo seemed already to crown him with

success, and send him thence to conquer and triumph.  He put to sea

only with seven ships of Corinth, two of Corcyra, and a tenth which

was furnished by the Leucadians; and when he was now entered into the

deep by night, and carried with a prosperous gale, the heaven seemed

all on a sudden to break open, and a bright spreading flame to issue

forth from it, and hover over the ship he was in; and, having formed

itself into a torch, not unlike those that are used in the mysteries,

it began to steer the same course, and run along in their company,

guiding them by its light to that quarter of Italy where they

designed to go ashore.  The soothsayers affirmed, that this

apparition agreed with the dream of the holy women, since the

goddesses were now visibly joining in the expedition, and sending

this light from heaven before them:  Sicily being thought sacred to

Proserpina, as poets feign that the rape was committed there, and

that the island was given her in dowry when she married Pluto.

These early demonstrations of divine favor greatly encouraged his

whole army; so that, making all the speed they were able, by a voyage

across the open sea, they were soon passing along the coast of Italy.

But the tidings that came from Sicily much perplexed Timoleon, and

disheartened his soldiers.  For Hicetes, having already beaten

Dionysius out of the field, and reduced most of the quarters of

Syracuse itself, now hemmed him in and besieged him in the citadel

and what is called the Island, whither he was fled for his last

refuge; while the Carthaginians, by agreement, were to make it their

business to hinder Timoleon from landing in any port of Sicily; so

that he and his party being driven back, they might with ease and at

their own leisure divide the island among themselves.  In pursuance

of which design, the Carthaginians sent away twenty of their galleys

to Rhegium, having aboard them certain ambassadors from Hicetes to

Timoleon, who carried instructions suitable to these proceedings,

specious amusements and plausible stories, to color and conceal

dishonest purposes.  They had order to propose and demand that

Timoleon himself, if he liked the offer, should come to advise with

Hicetes, and partake of all his conquests, but that he might send

back his ships and forces to Corinth, since the war was in a manner

finished, and the Carthaginians had blocked up the passage,

determined to oppose them if they should try to force their way

towards the shore.  When, therefore, the Corinthians met with these

envoys at Rhegium, and received their message, and saw the Phoenician

vessels riding at anchor in the bay, they became keenly sensible of

the abuse that was put upon them, and felt a general indignation

against Hicetes, and great apprehensions for the Siceliots, whom they

now plainly perceived to be as it were a prize and recompense to

Hicetes on one side for his perfidy, and to the Carthaginians on the

other for the sovereign power they secured to him.  For it seemed

utterly impossible to force and overbear the Carthaginian ships that

lay before them and were double their number, as also to vanquish the

victorious troops which Hicetes had with him in Syracuse, to take the

lead of which very troops they had undertaken their voyage.

The case being thus, Timoleon, after some conference with the envoys

of Hicetes and the Carthaginian captains, told them he should readily

submit to their proposals (to what purpose would it be to refuse

compliance?):  he was desirous only, before his return to Corinth,

that what had passed between them in private might be solemnly

declared before the people of Rhegium, a Greek city, and a common

friend to the parties; this, he said, would very much conduce to his

own security and discharge; and they likewise would more strictly

observe articles of agreement, on behalf of the Syracusans, which

they had obliged themselves to in the presence of so many witnesses.

The design of all which was, only to divert their attention, while he

got an opportunity of slipping away from their fleet:  a contrivance

that all the principal Rhegians were privy and assisting to, who had

a great desire that the affairs of Sicily should fall into Corinthian

hands, and dreaded the consequences of having barbarian neighbors.

An assembly was therefore called, and the gates shut, that the

citizens might have no liberty to turn to other business; and a

succession of speakers came forward, addressing the people at great

length, to the same effect, without bringing the subject to any

conclusion, making way each for another and purposely spinning out

the time, till the Corinthian galleys should get clear of the haven;

the Carthaginian commanders being detained there without any

suspicion, as also Timoleon still remained present, and gave signs as

if he were just preparing to make an oration.  But upon secret notice

that the rest of the galleys were already gone on, and that his alone

remained waiting for him, by the help and concealment of those

Rhegians that were about the hustings and favored his departure, he

made shift to slip away through the crowd, and, running down to the

port, set sail with all speed; and having reached his other vessels,

they came all safe to Tauromenium in Sicily, whither they had been

formerly invited, and where they were now kindly received by

Andromachus, then ruler of the city.  This man was father of Timaeus

the historian, and incomparably the best of all those that bore sway

in Sicily at that time, governing his citizens according to law and

justice, and openly professing an aversion and enmity to all tyrants;

upon which account he gave Timoleon leave to muster up his troops

there, and to make that city the seat of war, persuading the

inhabitants to join their arms with the Corinthian forces, and assist

them in the design of delivering Sicily.

But the Carthaginians who were left in Rhegium perceiving, when the

assembly was dissolved, that Timoleon had given them the go by, were

not a little vexed to see themselves outwitted, much to the amusement

of the Rhegians, who could not but smile to find Phoenicians complain

of being cheated.  However, they dispatched a messenger aboard one of

their galleys to Tauromenium, who, after much blustering in the

insolent barbaric way, and many menaces to Andromachus if he did not

forthwith send the Corinthians off, stretched out his hand with the

inside upward, and then turning it down again, threatened he would

handle their city even so, and turn it topsy-turvy in as little time,

and with as much ease.  Andromachus, laughing at the man's

confidence, made no other reply, but, imitating his gesture, bid him

hasten his own departure, unless he had a mind to see that kind of

dexterity practiced first upon the galley which brought him thither.

Hicetes, informed that Timoleon had made good his passage, was in

great fear of what might follow, and sent to desire the Carthaginians

that a large number of galleys might be ordered to attend and secure

the coast.  And now it was that the Syracusans began wholly to

despair of safety, seeing the Carthaginians possessed of their haven,

Hicetes master of the town, and Dionysius supreme in the citadel;

while Timoleon had as yet but a slender hold of Sicily, as it were by

the fringe or border of it, in the small city of the Tauromenians,

with a feeble hope and a poor company; having but a thousand soldiers

at the most, and no more provisions, either of corn or money, than

were just necessary for the maintenance and the pay of that

inconsiderable number.  Nor did the other towns of Sicily confide in

him, overpowered as they were with violence and outrage, and

embittered against all that should offer to lead armies, by the

treacherous conduct chiefly of Callippus, an Athenian, and Pharax, a

Lacedaemonian captain, both of whom, after giving out that the design

of their coming was to introduce liberty and depose tyrants, so

tyrannized themselves, that the reign of former oppressors seemed to

be a golden age in comparison, and the Sicilians began to consider

those more happy who had expired in servitude, than any that had

lived to see such a dismal freedom.

Looking, therefore, for no better usage from the Corinthian general,

but imagining that it was only the same old course of things once

more, specious presences and false professions to allure them by fair

hopes and kind promises into the obedience of a new master, they all,

with one accord, unless it were the people of Adranum, suspected the

exhortations, and rejected the overtures that were made them in his

name.  These were inhabitants of a small city, consecrated to

Adranus, a certain god that was in high veneration throughout Sicily,

and, as it happened, they were then at variance among themselves,

insomuch that one party called in Hicetes and the Carthaginians to

assist them, while the other sent proposals to Timoleon.  It so fell

out that these auxiliaries, striving which should be soonest, both

arrived at Adranum about the same time; Hicetes bringing with him at

least five thousand fighting men, while all the force Timoleon could

make did not exceed twelve hundred.  With these he marched out of

Tauromenium, which was about three hundred and forty furlongs distant

from that city.  The first day he moved but slowly, and took up his

quarters betimes after a short journey; but the day following he

quickened his pace, and, having passed through much difficult ground,

towards evening received advice that Hicetes was just approaching

Adranum, and pitching his camp before it; upon which intelligence,

his captains and other officers caused the vanguard to halt, that the

army being refreshed, and having reposed a while, might engage the

enemy with better heart.  But Timoleon, coming up in haste, desired

them not to stop for that reason, but rather use all possible

diligence to surprise the enemy, whom probably they would now find in

disorder, as having lately ended their march, and being taken up at

present in erecting tents and preparing supper; which he had no

sooner said, but laying hold of his buckler and putting himself in

the front, he led them on as it were to certain victory.  The

braveness of such a leader made them all follow him with like courage

and assurance.  They were now within less than thirty furlongs of

Adranum, which they quickly traversed, and immediately fell in upon

the enemy, who were seized with confusion, and began to retire at

their first approaches; one consequence of which was that amidst so

little opposition, and so early and general a flight, there were not

many more than three hundred slain, and about twice the number made

prisoners.  Their camp and baggage, however, was all taken.  The

fortune of this onset soon induced the Adranitans to unlock their

gates, and embrace the interest of Timoleon, to whom they recounted,

with a mixture of affright and admiration, how, at the very minute of

the encounter, the doors of their temple flew open of their own

accord, that the javelin also, which their god held in his hand, was

observed to tremble at the point, and that drops of sweat had been

seen running down his face:  prodigies that not only presaged the

victory then obtained, but were an omen, it seems, of all his future

exploits, to which this first happy action gave the occasion.

For now the neighboring cities and potentates sent deputies, one upon

another, to seek his friendship and make offer of their service.

Among the rest, Mamercus, the tyrant of Catana, an experienced

warrior and a wealthy prince, made proposals of alliance with him,

and, what was of greater importance still, Dionysius himself being

now grown desperate, and wellnigh forced to surrender, despising

Hicetes who had been thus shamefully baffled, and admiring the valor

of Timoleon, found means to advertise him and his Corinthians that he

should be content to deliver up himself and the citadel into their

hands.  Timoleon, gladly embracing this unlooked for advantage, sends

away Euclides and Telemachus, two Corinthian captains, with four

hundred men, for the seizure and custody of the castle, with

directions to enter not all at once, or in open view, that being

impracticable so long as the enemy kept guard, but by stealth, and in

small companies.  And so they took possession of the fortress, and

the palace of Dionysius, with all the stores and ammunition he had

prepared and laid up to maintain the war.  They found a good number

of horses, every variety of engines, a multitude of darts, and

weapons to arm seventy thousand men (a magazine that had been formed

from ancient time), besides two thousand soldiers that were then with

him, whom he gave up with the rest for Timoleon's service.  Dionysius

himself, putting his treasure aboard, and taking a few friends,

sailed away unobserved by Hicetes, and being brought to the camp of

Timoleon, there first appeared in the humble dress of a private

person, and was shortly after sent to Corinth with a single ship and

a small sum of money.  Born and educated in the most splendid court

and the most absolute monarchy that ever was, which he held and kept

up for the space of ten years succeeding his father's death, he had,

after Dion's expedition, spent twelve other years in a continual

agitation of wars and contests, and great variety of fortune, during

which time all the mischiefs he had committed in his former reign

were more than repaid by the ills he himself then suffered; since he

lived to see the deaths of his sons in the prime and vigor of their

age, and the rape of his daughters in the flower of their virginity,

and the wicked abuse of his sister and his wife, who, after being

first exposed to all the lawless insults of the soldiery, was then

murdered with her children, and cast into the sea; the particulars of

which are more exactly given in the life of Dion.

Upon the news of his landing at Corinth, there was hardly a man in

Greece who had not the curiosity to come and view the late formidable

tyrant, and say some words to him; part, rejoicing at his disasters,

were led thither out of mere spite and hatred, that they might have

the pleasure of trampling, as it were, on the ruins of his broken

fortune; but others, letting their attention and their sympathy turn

rather to the changes and revolutions of his life, could not but see

in them a proof of the strength and potency with which divine and

unseen causes operate amidst the weakness of human and visible

things.  For neither art nor nature did in that age produce anything

comparable to this work and wonder of fortune, which showed the very

same man, that was not long before supreme monarch of Sicily,

loitering about perhaps in the fish-market, or sitting in a

perfumer's shop, drinking the diluted wine of taverns, or squabbling

in the street with common women, or pretending to instruct the

singing women of the theater, and seriously disputing with them about

the measure and harmony of pieces of music that were performed there.

Such behavior on his part was variously criticized.  He was thought

by many to act thus out of pure compliance with his own natural

indolent and vicious inclinations; while finer judges were of

opinion, that in all this he was playing a politic part, with a

design to be contemned among them, and that the Corinthians might not

feel any apprehension or suspicion of his being uneasy under his

reverse of fortune, or solicitous to retrieve it; to avoid which

dangers, he purposely and against his true nature affected an

appearance of folly and want of spirit in his private life and

amusements.

However it be, there are sayings and repartees of his left still upon

record, which seem to show that he not ignobly accommodated himself

to his present circumstances; as may appear in part from the

ingenuousness of the avowal he made on coming to Leucadia, which, as

well as Syracuse, was a Corinthian colony, where he told the

inhabitants, that he found himself not unlike boys who have been in

fault, who can talk cheerfully with their brothers, but are ashamed

to see their father; so, likewise, he, he said, could gladly reside

with them in that island, whereas he felt a certain awe upon his

mind, which made him averse to the sight of Corinth, that was a

common mother to them both.  The thing is further evident from the

reply he once made to a stranger in Corinth, who deriding him in a

rude and scornful manner about the conferences he used to have with

philosophers, whose company had been one of his pleasures while yet a

monarch, and demanding, in fine, what he was the better now for all

those wise and learned discourses of Plato, "Do you think," said he,

"I have made no profit of his philosophy, when you see me bear my

change of fortune as I do?"  And when Aristoxenus the musician, and

several others, desired to know how Plato offended him, and what had

been the ground of his displeasure with him, he made answer, that, of

the many evils attaching to the condition of sovereignty, the one

greatest infelicity was that none of those who were accounted friends

would venture to speak freely, or tell the plain truth; and that by

means of such he had been deprived of Plato's kindness.  At another

time, when one of those pleasant companions that are desirous to pass

for wits, in mockery to Dionysius, as if he were still the tyrant,

shook out the folds of his cloak, as he was entering into the room

where he was, to show there were no concealed weapons about him,

Dionysius, by way of retort, observed, that he would prefer he would

do so on leaving the room, as a security that he was carrying nothing

off with him.  And when Philip of Macedon, at a drinking party, began

to speak in banter about the verses and tragedies which his father,

Dionysius the elder, had left behind him, and pretended to wonder how

he could get any time from his other business to compose such

elaborate and ingenious pieces, he replied, very much to the purpose,

"It was at those leisurable hours, which such as you and I, and those

we call happy men, bestow upon our cups."  Plato had not the

opportunity to see Dionysius at Corinth, being already dead before he

came thither; but Diogenes of Sinope, at their first meeting in the

street there, saluted him with the ambiguous expression, "O

Dionysius, how little you deserve your present life!"  Upon which

Dionysius stopped and replied, "I thank you, Diogenes, for your

condolence."  "Condole with you!" replied Diogenes; "do you not

suppose that, on the contrary, I am indignant that such a slave as

you, who, if you had your due, should have been let alone to grow

old, and die in the state of tyranny, as your father did before you,

should now enjoy the ease of private persons, and be here to sport

and frolic it in our society?"  So that when I compare those sad

stories of Philistus, touching the daughters of Leptines, where he

makes pitiful moan on their behalf, as fallen from all the blessings

and advantages of powerful greatness to the miseries of a humble

life, they seem to me like the lamentations of a woman who has lost

her box of ointment, her purple dresses, and her golden trinkets.

Such anecdotes will not, I conceive, be thought either foreign to my

purpose of writing Lives, or unprofitable in themselves, by such

readers as are not in too much haste, or busied and taken up with

other concerns.

But if the misfortune of Dionysius appear strange and extraordinary,

we shall have no less reason to wonder at the good fortune of

Timoleon, who, within fifty days after his landing in Sicily, both

recovered the citadel of Syracuse, and sent Dionysius an exile into

Peloponnesus.  This lucky beginning so animated the Corinthians, that

they ordered him a supply of two thousand foot and two hundred horse,

who, reaching Thurii, intended to cross over thence into Sicily; but

finding the whole sea beset with Carthaginian ships, which made their

passage impracticable, they were constrained to stop there, and watch

their opportunity:  which time, however, was employed in a noble

action.  For the Thurians, going out to war against their Bruttian

enemies, left their city in charge with these Corinthian strangers,

who defended it as carefully as if it had been their own country, and

faithfully resigned it up again.

Hicetes, in the interim, continued still to besiege the castle of

Syracuse, and hindered all provisions from coming in by sea to

relieve the Corinthians that were in it.  He had engaged also, and

dispatched towards Adranum, two unknown foreigners to assassinate

Timoleon, who at no time kept any standing guard about his person,

and was then altogether secure, diverting himself, without any

apprehension, among the citizens of the place, it being a festival in

honor of their gods.  The two men that were sent, having casually

heard that Timoleon was about to sacrifice, came directly into the

temple with poniards under their cloaks, and pressing in among the

crowd, by little and little got up close to the altar; but, as they

were just looking for a sign from each other to begin the attempt, a

third person struck one of them over the head with a sword, upon

whose sudden fall, neither he that gave the blow, nor the partisan of

him that received it, kept their stations any longer; but the one,

making way with his bloody sword, put no stop to his flight, till he

gained the top of a certain lofty precipice, while the other, laying

hold of the altar, besought Timoleon to spare his life, and he would

reveal to him the whole conspiracy.  His pardon being granted, he

confessed that both himself and his dead companion were sent thither

purposely to slay him.  While this discovery was made, he that killed

the other conspirator had been fetched down from his sanctuary of the

rock, loudly and often protesting, as he came along, that there was

no injustice in the fact, as he had only taken righteous vengeance

for his father's blood, whom this man had murdered before in the city

of Leontini; the truth of which was attested by several there

present, who could not choose but wonder too at the strange dexterity

of fortune's operations, the facility with which she makes one event

the spring and motion to something wholly different, uniting every

scattered accident and lose particular and remote action, and

interweaving them together to serve her purposes; so that things that

in themselves seem to have no connection or interdependence

whatsoever, become in her hands, so to say, the end and the beginning

of each other.  The Corinthians, satisfied as to the innocence of

this seasonable feat, honored and rewarded the author with a present

of ten pounds in their money, since he had, as it were, lent the use

of his just resentment to the tutelar genius that seemed to be

protecting Timoleon, and had not preexpended this anger, so long ago

conceived, but had reserved and deferred, under fortune's guidance,

for his preservation, the revenge of a private quarrel.

But this fortunate escape had effects and consequences beyond the

present, as it inspired the highest hopes and future expectations of

Timoleon, making people reverence and protect him as a sacred person

sent by heaven to avenge and redeem Sicily.  Hicetes, having missed

his aim in this enterprise, and perceiving, also, that many went off

and sided with Timoleon, began to chide himself for his foolish

modesty, that, when so considerable a force of the Carthaginians lay

ready to be commanded by him, he had employed them hitherto by

degrees and in small numbers, introducing their reinforcements by

stealth and clandestinely, as if he had been ashamed of the action.

Therefore, now laying aside his former nicety, he calls in Mago,

their admiral, with his whole navy, who presently set sail, and

seized upon the port with a formidable fleet of at least a hundred

and fifty vessels, landing there sixty thousand foot which were all

lodged within the city of Syracuse; so that, in all men's opinion,

the time anciently talked of and long expected, wherein Sicily should

be subjugated by barbarians, was now come to its fatal period.  For

in all their preceding wars and many desperate conflicts with Sicily,

the Carthaginians had never been able, before this, to take Syracuse;

whereas Hicetes now receiving them, and putting the city into their

hands, you might see it become now as it were a camp of barbarians.

By this means, the Corinthian soldiers that kept the castle found

themselves brought into great danger and hardship; as, besides that

their provision grew scarce, and they began to be in want, because

the havens were strictly guarded and blocked up, the enemy exercised

them still with skirmishes and combats about their walls, and they

were not only obliged to be continually in arms, but to divide and

prepare themselves for assaults and encounters of every kind, and to

repel every variety of the means of offense employed by a besieging

army.

Timoleon made shift to relieve them in these straits, sending corn

from Catana by small fishing-boats and little skiffs, which commonly

gained a passage through the Carthaginian galleys in times of storm,

stealing up when the blockading ships were driven apart and dispersed

by the stress of weather; which Mago and Hicetes observing, they

agreed to fall upon Catana, from whence these supplies were brought

in to the besieged, and accordingly put off from Syracuse, taking

with them the best soldiers in their whole army.  Upon this, Neon the

Corinthian, who was captain of those that kept the citadel, taking

notice that the enemies who stayed there behind were very negligent

and careless in keeping guard, made a sudden sally upon them as they

lay scattered, and, killing some and putting others to flight, he

took and possessed himself of that quarter which they call Acradina,

and was thought to be the strongest and most impregnable part of

Syracuse, a city made up and compacted as it were, of several towns

put together.  Having thus stored himself with corn and money, he did

not abandon the place, nor retire again into the castle, but

fortifying the precincts of Acradina, and joining it by works to the

citadel, he undertook the defense of both.  Mago and Hicetes were now

come near to Catana, when a horseman, dispatched from Syracuse,

brought them tidings that Acradina was taken; upon which they

returned, in all haste, with great disorder and confusion, having

neither been able to reduce the city they went against, nor to

preserve that they were masters of.

These successes, indeed, were such as might leave foresight and

courage a pretence still of disputing it with fortune, which

contributed most to the result.  But the next following event can

scarcely be ascribed to anything but pure felicity.  The Corinthian

soldiers who stayed at Thurii, partly for fear of the Carthaginian

galleys which lay in wait for them under the command of Hanno, and

partly because of tempestuous weather which had lasted for many days,

and rendered the sea dangerous, took a resolution to march by land

over the Bruttian territories, and, what with persuasion and force

together, made good their passage through those barbarians to the

city of Rhegium, the sea being still rough and raging as before.  But

Hanno, not expecting the Corinthians would venture out, and supposing

it would be useless to wait there any longer, bethought himself, as

he imagined, of a most ingenious and clever stratagem apt to delude

and ensnare the enemy; in pursuance of which he commanded the seamen

to crown themselves with garlands, and, adorning his galleys with

bucklers both of the Greek and Carthaginian make, he sailed away for

Syracuse in this triumphant equipage, and using all his oars as he

passed under the castle with much shouting and laughter, cried out,

on purpose to dishearten the besieged, that he was come from

vanquishing and taking the Corinthian succors, which he fell upon at

sea as they were passing over into Sicily.  While he was thus biding

and playing his tricks before Syracuse, the Corinthians, now come as

far as Rhegium, observing the coast clear, and that the wind was laid

as it were by miracle, to afford them in all appearance a quiet and

smooth passage, went immediately aboard on such little barks and

fishing-boats as were then at hand, and got over to Sicily with such

complete safety and in such an extraordinary calm, that they drew

their horses by the reins, swimming along by them as the vessels went

across.

When they were all landed, Timoleon came to receive them, and by

their means at once obtained possession of Messena, from whence he

marched in good order to Syracuse, trusting more to his late

prosperous achievements than his present strength, as the whole army

he had then with him did not exceed the number of four thousand;

Mago, however, was troubled and fearful at the first notice of his

coming, and grew more apprehensive and jealous still upon the

following occasion.  The marshes about Syracuse, that receive a great

deal of fresh water, as well from springs as from lakes and rivers

discharging themselves into the sea, breed abundance of eels, which

may be always taken there in great quantities by any that will fish

for them.  The mercenary soldiers that served on both sides, were

wont to follow the sport together at their vacant hours, and upon any

cessation of arms, who being all Greeks, and having no cause of

private enmity to each other, as they would venture bravely in fight,

so in times of truce used to meet and converse amicably together.

And at this present time, while engaged about this common business of

fishing, they fell into talk together; and some expressing their

admiration of the neighboring sea, and others telling how much they

were taken with the convenience and commodiousness of the buildings

and public works, one of the Corinthian party took occasion to demand

of the others:  "And is it possible that you who are Grecians born,

should be so forward to reduce a city of this greatness, and enjoying

so many rare advantages, into the state of barbarism; and lend your

assistance to plant Carthaginians, that are the worst and bloodiest

of men, so much the nearer to us? whereas you should rather wish

there were many more Sicilies to lie between them and Greece.  Have

you so little sense as to believe, that they come hither with an

army, from the Pillars of Hercules and the Atlantic Sea, to hazard

themselves for the establishment of Hicetes? who, if he had had the

consideration which becomes a general, would never have thrown out

his ancestors and founders to bring in the enemies of his country in

the room of them, when he might have enjoyed all suitable honor and

command, with consent of Timoleon and the rest of Corinth."  The

Greeks that were in pay with Hicetes, noising these discourses about

their camp, gave Mago some ground to suspect, as indeed he had long

sought for a pretence to be gone, that there was treachery contrived

against him; so that, although Hicetes entreated him to tarry, and

made it appear how much stronger they were than the enemy, yet,

conceiving they came far more short of Timoleon in respect of courage

and fortune, than they surpassed him in number, he presently went

aboard, and set sail for Africa, letting Sicily escape out of his

hands with dishonor to himself, and for such uncertain causes, that

no human reason could give an account of his departure.

The day after he went away, Timoleon came up before the city, in

array for a battle.  But when he and his company heard of this sudden

flight, and saw the docks all empty, they could not forbear laughing

at the cowardice of Mago, and in mockery caused proclamation to be

made through the city, that a reward would be given to any one who

could bring them tidings whither the Carthaginian fleet had conveyed

itself from them.  However, Hicetes resolving to fight it out alone,

and not quitting his hold of the city, but sticking close to the

quarters he was in possession of, places that were well fortified and

not easy to be attacked, Timoleon divided his forces into three

parts, and fell himself upon the side where the river Anapus ran,

which was most strong and difficult of access; and he commanded those

that were led by Isias, a Corinthian captain, to make their assault

from the post of Acradina, while Dinarchus and Demaretus, that

brought him the last supply from Corinth, were, with a third

division, to attempt the quarter called Epipolae.  A considerable

impression being made from every side at once, the soldiers of

Hicetes were beaten off and put to flight; and this, — that the city

came to be taken by storm, and fall suddenly into their hands, upon

the defeat and rout of the enemy, — we must in all justice ascribe

to the valor of the assailants, and the wise conduct of their

general; but that not so much as a man of the Corinthians was either

slain or wounded in the action, this the good fortune of Timoleon

seems to challenge for her own work, as though, in a sort of rivalry

with his own personal exertions, she made it her aim to exceed and

obscure his actions by her favors, that those who heard him commended

for his noble deeds might rather admire the happiness, than the merit

of them.  For the fame of what was done not only passed through all

Sicily, and filled Italy with wonder, but even Greece itself, after a

few days, came to ring with the greatness of his exploit; insomuch

that those of Corinth, who had as yet no certainty that their

auxiliaries were landed on the island, had tidings brought them at

the same time that they were safe and were conquerors.  In so

prosperous a course did affairs run, and such was the speed and

celerity of execution with which fortune, as with a new ornament, set

off the native lustres of the performance.

Timoleon, being master of the citadel, avoided the error which Dion

had been guilty of.  He spared not the place for the beauty and

sumptuousness of its fabric, and, keeping clear of those suspicions

which occasioned first the unpopularity and afterwards the fall of

Dion, made a public crier give notice, that all the Syracusans who

were willing to have a hand in the work, should bring pick-axes and

mattocks, and other instruments, and help him to demolish the

fortifications of the tyrants.  When they all came up with one

accord, looking upon that order and that day as the surest foundation

of their liberty, they not only pulled down the castle, but

overturned the palaces and monuments adjoining, and whatever else

might preserve any memory of former tyrants.  Having soon leveled and

cleared the place, he there presently erected courts for

administration of justice, gratifying the citizens by this means, and

building popular government on the fall and ruin of tyranny.  But

since he had recovered a city destitute of inhabitants, some of

them dead in civil wars and insurrections, and others being fled to

escape tyrants, so that through solitude and want of people the great

marketplace of Syracuse was overgrown with such quantity of rank

herbage that it became a pasture for their horses, the grooms lying

along in the grass as they fed by them; while also other towns, very

few excepted, were become full of stags and wild boars, so that those

who had nothing else to do went frequently a hunting, and found game

in the suburbs and about the walls; and not one of those who had

possessed themselves of castles, or made garrisons in the country,

could be persuaded to quit their present abode, or would accept an

invitation to return back into the city, so much did they all dread

and abhor the very name of assemblies and forms of government and

public speaking, that had produced the greater part of those usurpers

who had successively assumed a dominion over them, — Timoleon,

therefore, with the Syracusans that remained, considering this vast

desolation, and how little hope there was to have it otherwise

supplied, thought good to write to the Corinthians, requesting that

they would send a colony out of Greece to repeople Syracuse.  For

else the land about it would lie unimproved; and besides this, they

expected to be involved in a greater war from Africa, having news

brought them that Mago had killed himself, and that the

Carthaginians, out of rage for his ill conduct in the late

expedition, had caused his body to be nailed upon a cross, and that

they were raising a mighty force, with design to make their descent

upon Sicily the next summer.

These letters from Timoleon being delivered at Corinth, and the

ambassadors of Syracuse beseeching them at the same time, that they

would take upon them the care of their poor city, and once again

become the founders of it, the Corinthians were not tempted by any

feeling of cupidity to lay hold of the advantage.  Nor did they seize

and appropriate the city to themselves, but going about first to the

games that are kept as sacred in Greece, and to the most numerously

attended religious assemblages, they made publication by heralds,

that the Corinthians, having destroyed the usurpation at Syracuse and

driven out the tyrant, did thereby invite the Syracusan exiles, and

any other Siceliots, to return and inhabit the city, with full

enjoyment of freedom under their own laws, the land being divided

among them in just and equal proportions.  And after this, sending

messengers into Asia and the several islands where they understood

that most of the scattered fugitives were then residing, they bade

them all repair to Corinth, engaging that the Corinthians would

afford them vessels and commanders, and a safe convoy, at their own

charges, to Syracuse.  Such generous proposals, being thus spread

about, gained them the just and honorable recompense of general

praise and benediction, for delivering the country from oppressors,

and saving it from barbarians, and restoring it at length to the

rightful owners of the place.  These, when they were assembled at

Corinth, and found how insufficient their company was, besought the

Corinthians that they might have a supplement of other persons, as

well out of their city as the rest of Greece, to go with them as

joint-colonists; and so raising themselves to the number of ten

thousand, they sailed together to Syracuse.  By this time great

multitudes, also, from Italy and Sicily, had flocked in to Timoleon,

so that, as Athanis reports, their entire body amounted now to sixty

thousand men.  Among these he divided the whole territory, and sold

the houses for a thousand talents; by which method, he both left it

in the power of the old Syracusans to redeem their own, and made it a

means also for raising a stock for the community, which had been so

much impoverished of late, and was so unable to defray other

expenses, and especially those of a war, that they exposed their very

statues to sale, a regular process being observed, and sentence of

auction passed upon each of them by majority of votes, as if they had

been so many criminals taking their trial:  in the course of which it

is said that while condemnation was pronounced upon all other

statues, that of the ancient usurper Gelo was exempted, out of

admiration and honor and for the sake of the victory he gained over

the Carthaginian forces at the river Himera.

Syracuse being thus happily revived, and replenished again by the

general concourse of inhabitants from all parts, Timoleon was

desirous now to rescue other cities from the like bondage, and wholly

and once for all to extirpate arbitrary government out of Sicily.

And for this purpose, marching into the territories of those that

used it, he compelled Hicetes first to renounce the Carthaginian

interest, and, demolishing the fortresses which were held by him, to

live henceforth among the Leontinians as a private person.  Leptines,

also, the tyrant of Apollonia and divers other little towns, after

some resistance made, seeing the danger he was in of being taken by

force, surrendered himself; upon which Timoleon spared his life, and

sent him away to Corinth, counting it a glorious thing that the

mother city should expose to the view of other Greeks these Sicilian

tyrants, living now in an exiled and a low condition.  After this he

returned to Syracuse, that he might have leisure to attend to the

establishment of the new constitution, and assist Cephalus and

Dionysius, who were sent from Corinth to make laws, in determining

the most important points of it.  In the meanwhile, desirous that his

hired soldiers should not want action, but might rather enrich

themselves by some plunder from the enemy, he dispatched Dinarchus

and Demaretus with a portion of them into the part of the island

belonging to the Carthaginians, where they obliged several cities to

revolt from the barbarians, and not only lived in great abundance

themselves, but raised money from their spoil to carry on the war.

Meantime, the Carthaginians landed at the promontory of Lilybaeum,

bringing with them an army of seventy thousand men on board two

hundred galleys, besides a thousand other vessels laden with engines

of battery, chariots, corn, and other military stores, as if they did

not intend to manage the war by piecemeal and in parts as heretofore,

but to drive the Greeks altogether and at once out of all Sicily.

And indeed it was a force sufficient to overpower the Siceliots, even

though they had been at perfect union among themselves, and had never

been enfeebled by intestine quarrels.  Hearing that part of their

subject territory was suffering devastation, they forthwith made

toward the Corinthians with great fury, having Asdrubal and Hamilcar

for their generals; the report of whose numbers and strength coming

suddenly to Syracuse, the citizens were so terrified, that hardly

three thousand, among so many myriads of them, had the courage to

take up arms and join Timoleon.  The foreigners, serving for pay,

were not above four thousand in all, and about a thousand of these

grew fainthearted by the way, and forsook Timoleon in his march

towards the enemy, looking on him as frantic and distracted,

destitute of the sense which might have been expected from his time

of life, thus to venture out against an army of seventy thousand men,

with no more than five thousand foot and a thousand horse; and, when

he should have kept those forces to defend the city, choosing rather

to remove them eight days' journey from Syracuse, so that if they

were beaten from the field, they would have no retreat, nor any

burial if they fell upon it.  Timoleon, however, reckoned it some

kind of advantage, that these had thus discovered themselves before

the battle, and, encouraging the rest, led them with all speed to the

river Crimesus, where it was told him the Carthaginians were drawn

together.

As he was marching up an ascent, from the top of which they expected

to have a view of the army and of the strength of the enemy, there

met him by chance a train of mules loaded with parsley; which his

soldiers conceived to be an ominous occurrence or ill-boding token,

because this is the herb with which we not unfrequently adorn the

sepulchres of the dead; and there is a proverb derived from the

custom, used of one who is dangerously sick, that he has need of

nothing but parsley.  So, to ease their minds, and free them from

any superstitious thoughts or forebodings of evil, Timoleon halted,

and concluded an address, suitable to the occasion, by saying, that a

garland of triumph was here luckily brought them, and had fallen into

their hands of its own accord, as an anticipation of victory:  the

same with which the Corinthians crown the victors in the Isthmian

games, accounting chaplets of parsley the sacred wreath proper to

their country; parsley being at that time still the emblem of victory

at the Isthmian, as it is now at the Nemean sports; and it is not so

very long ago that the pine first began to be used in its place.

Timoleon, therefore, having thus bespoke his soldiers, took part of

the parsley, and with it made himself a chaplet first, his captains

and their companies all following the example of their leader.  The

soothsayers then, observing also two eagles on the wing towards them,

one of which bore a snake struck through with her talons, and the

other, as she flew, uttered a loud cry indicating boldness and

assurance, at once showed them to the soldiers, who with one consent

fell to supplicate the gods, and call them in to their assistance.

It was now about the beginning of summer, and conclusion of the month

called Thargelion, not far from the solstice; and the river sending

up a thick mist, all the adjacent plain was at first darkened with

the fog, so that for a while they could discern nothing from the

enemy's camp; only a confused buzz and undistinguished mixture of

voices came up to the hill from the distant motions and clamors of so

vast a multitude.  When the Corinthians had mounted, and stood on the

top, and had laid down their bucklers to take breath and repose

themselves, the sun coming round and drawing up the vapors from

below, the gross foggy air that was now gathered and condensed above

formed in a cloud upon the mountains; and, all the under places being

clear and open, the river Crimesus appeared to them again, and they

could descry the enemies passing over it, first with their formidable

four horse chariots of war, and then ten thousand footmen bearing

white shields, whom they guessed to be all Carthaginians, from the

splendor of their arms, and the slowness and order of their march.  And

when now the troops of various other nations, flowing in behind them,

began to throng for passage in a tumultuous and unruly manner,

Timoleon, perceiving that the river gave them opportunity to single

off whatever number of their enemies they had a mind to engage at

once, and bidding his soldiers observe how their forces were divided

into two separate bodies by the intervention of the stream, some

being already over, and others still to ford it, gave Demaretus

command to fall in upon the Carthaginians with his horse, and disturb

their ranks before they should be drawn up into form of battle; and

coming down into the plain himself, forming his right and left wing

of other Sicilians, intermingling only a few strangers in each, he

placed the natives of Syracuse in the middle, with the stoutest

mercenaries he had about his own person; and, waiting a little to

observe the action of his horse, when he saw they were not only

hindered from grappling with the Carthaginians by the armed chariots

that ran to and fro before the army, but forced continually to wheel

about to escape having their ranks broken, and so to repeat their

charges anew, he took his buckler in his hand, and crying out to the

foot that they should follow him with courage and confidence, he

seemed to speak with a more than human accent, and a voice stronger

than ordinary; whether it were that he naturally raised it so high in

the vehemence and ardor of his mind to assault the enemy, or else, as

many then thought, some god or other spoke with him.  When his

soldiers quickly gave an echo to it, all besought him to lead them on

without any further delay, he made a sign to the horse, that they

should draw off from the front where the chariots were, and pass

sidewards to attack their enemies in the flank; then, making his

vanguard firm by joining man to man and buckler to buckler, he caused

the trumpet to sound, and so bore in upon the Carthaginians.

They, for their part, stoutly received and sustained his first onset;

and having their bodies armed with breastplates of iron, and helmets

of brass on their heads, besides great bucklers to cover and secure

them, they could easily repel the charge of the Greek spears.  But

when the business came to a decision by the sword, where mastery

depends no less upon art than strength, all on a sudden from the

mountain tops violent peals of thunder and vivid dashes of lightning

broke out; following upon which the darkness, that had been hovering

about the higher grounds and the crests of the hills, descending to

the place of battle and bringing a tempest of rain and of wind and

hail along with it, was driven upon the Greeks behind, and fell only

at their backs, but discharged itself in the very faces of the

barbarians, the rain beating on them, and the lightning dazzling them

without cessation; annoyances that in many ways distressed at any

rate the inexperienced, who had not been used to such hardships, and,

in particular, the claps of thunder, and the noise of the rain and

hail beating on their arms, kept them from hearing the commands of

their officers.  Besides which, the very mud also was a great

hindrance to the Carthaginians, who were not lightly equipped, but,

as I said before, loaded with heavy armor; and then their shirts

underneath getting drenched, the foldings about the bosom filled with

water, grew unwieldy and cumbersome to them as they fought, and made

it easy for the Greeks to throw them down, and, when they were once

down, impossible for them, under that weight, to disengage themselves

and rise again with weapons in their hand.  The river Crimesus, too,

swollen partly by the rain, and partly by the stoppage of its course

with the numbers that were passing through, overflowed its banks; and

the level ground by the side of it, being so situated as to have a

number of small ravines and hollows of the hill-side descending upon

it, was now filled with rivulets and currents that had no certain

channel, in which the Carthaginians stumbled and rolled about, and

found themselves in great difficulty.  So that, in fine, the storm

bearing still upon them, and the Greeks having cut in pieces four

hundred men of their first ranks, the whole body of their army began

to fly.  Great numbers were overtaken in the plain, and put to the

sword there; and many of them, as they were making their way back

through the river, falling foul upon others that were yet coming

over, were borne away and overwhelmed by the waters; but the major

part, attempting to get up the hills and so make their escape, were

intercepted and destroyed by the light-armed troops.  It is said,

that of ten thousand who lay dead after the fight, three thousand, at

least, were Carthaginian citizens; a heavy loss and great grief to

their countrymen; those that fell being men inferior to none among

them as to birth, wealth, or reputation.  Nor do their records

mention that so many native Carthaginians were ever cut off before in

any one battle; as they usually employed Africans, Spaniards, and

Numidians in their wars, so that if they chanced to be defeated, it

was still at the cost and damage of other nations.

The Greeks easily discovered of what condition and account the slain

were, by the richness of their spoils; for when they came to collect

the booty, there was little reckoning made either of brass or iron,

so abundant were better metals, and so common were silver and gold

Passing over the river, they became masters of their camp and

carriages.  As for captives, a great many of them were stolen away,

and sold privately by the soldiers, but about five thousand were

brought in and delivered up for the benefit of the public; two

hundred of their chariots of war were also taken.  The tent of

Timoleon then presented a most glorious and magnificent appearance,

being heaped up and hung round with every variety of spoils and

military ornaments, among which there were a thousand breastplates of

rare workmanship and beauty, and bucklers to the number of ten

thousand.  The victors being but few to strip so many that were

vanquished, and having such valuable booty to occupy them, it was the

third day after the fight before they could erect and finish the

trophy of their conquest.  Timoleon sent tidings of his victory to

Corinth, with the best and goodliest arms he had taken as a proof of

it; that he thus might render his country an object of emulation to

the whole world, when, of all the cities of Greece, men should there

alone behold the chief temples adorned, not with Grecian spoils, nor

offerings obtained by the bloodshed and plunder of their own

countrymen and kindred, and attended, therefore, with sad and unhappy

remembrances, but with such as had been stripped from barbarians and

enemies to their nation, with the noblest titles inscribed upon them,

titles telling of the justice as well as fortitude of the conquerors;

namely, that the people of Corinth, and Timoleon their general,

having redeemed the Greeks of Sicily from Carthaginian bondage, made

oblation of these to the gods, in grateful acknowledgment of their

favor.

Having done this, he left his hired soldiers in the enemy's country,

to drive and carry away all they could throughout the

subject-territory of Carthage, and so marched with the rest of his

army to Syracuse, where he issued an edict for banishing the thousand

mercenaries who had basely deserted him before the battle, and

obliged them to quit the city before sunset.  They, sailing into

Italy, lost their lives there by the hands of the Bruttians, in spite

of a public assurance of safety previously given them; thus

receiving, from the divine power, a just reward of their own

treachery.  Mamercus, however, the tyrant of Catana, and Hicetes,

after all, either envying Timoleon the glory of his exploits, or

fearing him as one that would keep no agreement, nor have any peace

with tyrants, made a league with the Carthaginians, and pressed them

much to send a new army and commander into Sicily, unless they would

be content to hazard all, and to be wholly ejected out of that

island.  And in consequence of this, Gisco was dispatched with a navy

of seventy sail.  He took numerous Greek mercenaries also into pay,

that being the first time they had ever been enlisted for the

Carthaginian service; but then it seems the Carthaginians began to

admire them, as the most irresistible soldiers of all mankind.

Uniting their forces in the territory of Messena, they cut off four

hundred of Timoleon's paid soldiers, and within the dependencies of

Carthage, at a place called Hierae, destroyed, by an ambuscade, the

whole body of mercenaries that served under Euthymus the Leucadian;

which accidents, however, made the good fortune of Timoleon accounted

all the more remarkable, as these were the men that, with Philomelus

of Phocis and Onomarchus, had forcibly broken into the temple of

Apollo at Delphi, and were partakers with them in the sacrilege; so

that, being hated and shunned by all, as persons under a curse, they

were constrained to wander about in Peloponnesus; when, for want of

others, Timoleon was glad to take them into service in his expedition

for Sicily, where they were successful in whatever enterprise they

attempted under his conduct.  But now, when all the important dangers

were past, on his sending them out for the relief and defense of his

party in several places, they perished and were destroyed at a

distance from him, not all together, but in small parties; and the

vengeance which was destined for them, so accommodating itself to the

good fortune which guarded Timoleon as not to allow any harm or

prejudice for good men to arise from the punishment of the wicked,

the benevolence and kindness which the gods had for Timoleon was thus

as distinctly recognized in his disasters as in his successes.

What most annoyed the Syracusans was their being insulted and mocked

by the tyrants; as, for example, by Mamercus, who valued himself much

upon his gift for writing poems and tragedies, and took occasion,

when coming to present the gods with the bucklers of the hired

soldiers whom he had killed, to make a boast of his victory in an

insulting elegiac inscription:

These shields, with purple, gold, and ivory wrought,

Were won by us that but with poor ones fought.

After this, while Timoleon marched to Calauria, Hicetes made an

inroad into the borders of Syracuse, where he met with considerable

booty, and having done much mischief and havoc, returned back by

Calauria itself, in contempt of Timoleon, and the slender force he

had then with him.  He, suffering Hicetes to pass forward, pursued

him with his horsemen and light infantry, which Hicetes perceiving,

crossed the river Damyrias, and then stood in a posture to receive

him; the difficulty of the passage, and the height and steepness of

the bank on each side, giving advantage enough to make him confident.

A strange contention and dispute, meantime, among the officers of

Timoleon, a little retarded the conflict; no one of them was willing

to let another pass over before him to engage the enemy; each man

claiming it as a right, to venture first and begin the onset; so that

their fording was likely to be tumultuous and without order, a mere

general struggle which should be the foremost.  Timoleon, therefore,

desiring to decide the quarrel by lot, took a ring from each of the

pretenders, which he cast into his own cloak, and, after he had

shaken all together, the first he drew out had, by good fortune, the

figure of a trophy engraved as a seal upon it; at the sight of which

the young captains all shouted for joy, and, without waiting any

longer to see how chance would determine it for the rest, took every

man his way through the river with all the speed they could make, and

fell to blows with the enemies, who were not able to bear up against

the violence of their attack, but fled in haste and left their arms

behind them all alike, and a thousand dead upon the place.

Not long after, Timoleon, marching up to the city of the Leontines,

took Hicetes alive, and his son Eupolemus, and Euthymus, the

commander of his horse, who were bound and brought to him by their

own soldiers.  Hicetes and the stripling his son were then executed

as tyrants and traitors; and Euthymus, though a brave man, and one of

singular courage, could obtain no mercy, because he was charged with

contemptuous language in disparagement of the Corinthians when they

first sent their forces into Sicily:  it is said that he told the

Leontini in a speech, that the news did not sound terrible, nor was

any great danger to be feared because of

Corinthian women coming out of doors.

So true is it that men are usually more stung and galled by

reproachful words than hostile actions; and they bear an affront with

less patience than an injury:  to do harm and mischief by deeds is

counted pardonable from enemies, as nothing less can be expected in a

state of war whereas virulent and contumelious words appear to be the

expression of needless hatred, and to proceed from an excess of

rancor.

When Timoleon came back to Syracuse, the citizens brought the wives

and daughters of Hicetes and his son to a public trial, and condemned

and put them to death.  This seems to be the least pleasing action of

Timoleon's life; since if he had interposed, the unhappy women would

have been spared.  He would appear to have disregarded the thing, and

to have given them up to the citizens, who were eager to take

vengeance for the wrongs done to Dion, who expelled Dionysius; since

it was this very Hicetes, who took Arete the wife, and Aristomache

the sister of Dion, with a son that had not yet passed his childhood,

and threw them all together into the sea alive, as related in the

life of Dion.

After this, he moved towards Catana against Mamercus, who gave him

battle near the river Abolus, and was overthrown and put to flight,

losing above two thousand men, a considerable part of whom were the

Phoenician troops sent by Gisco to his assistance.  After this

defeat, the Carthaginians sued for peace; which was granted on the

conditions that they should confine themselves to the country within

the river Lycus, that those of the inhabitants who wished to remove

to the Syracusan territories should be allowed to depart with their

whole families and fortunes, and, lastly, that Carthage should

renounce all engagements to the tyrants.  Mamercus, now forsaken and

despairing of success, took ship for Italy with the design of

bringing in the Lucanians against Timoleon and the people of

Syracuse; but the men in his galleys turning back and landing again

and delivering up Catana to Timoleon, thus obliged him to fly for his

own safety to Messena, where Hippo was tyrant.  Timoleon, however,

coming up against them, and besieging the city both by sea and land,

Hippo, fearful of the event, endeavored to slip away in a vessel;

which the people of Messena surprised as it was putting off, and

seizing on his person, and bringing all their children from school

into the theater, to witness the glorious spectacle of a tyrant

punished, they first publicly scourged and then put him to death.

Mamercus made surrender of himself to Timoleon, with the proviso,

that he should be tried at Syracuse, and Timoleon should take no part

in his accusation.  Thither he was brought accordingly, and

presenting himself to plead before the people, he essayed to

pronounce an oration he had long before composed in his own defense;

but finding himself interrupted by noise and clamors, and observing

from their aspect and demeanor that the assembly was inexorable, he

threw off his upper garment, and running across the theater as hard

as he could, dashed his head against one of the stones under the

seats with intention to have killed himself; but he had not the

fortune to perish, as he designed, but was taken up alive, and

suffered the death of a robber.

Thus did Timoleon cut the nerves of tyranny, and put a period to

their wars; and, whereas, at his first entering upon Sicily, the

island was as it were become wild again, and was hateful to the very

natives on account of the evils and miseries they suffered there, he

so civilized and restored it, and rendered it so desirable to all

men, that even strangers now came by sea to inhabit those towns and

places which their own citizens had formerly forsaken and left

desolate.  Agrigentum and Gela, two famous cities that had been

ruined and laid waste by the Carthaginians after the Attic war, were

then peopled again, the one by Megellus and Pheristus from Elea, the

other by Gorgus, from the island of Ceos, partly with new settlers,

partly with the old inhabitants whom they collected again from

various parts; to all of whom Timoleon not only afforded a secure and

peaceable abode after so obstinate a war, but was further so zealous

in assisting and providing for them that he was honored among them as

their founder.  Similar feelings also possessed to such a degree all

the rest of the Sicilians, that there was no proposal for peace, nor

reformation of laws, nor assignation of land, nor reconstitution of

government, which they could think well of, unless he lent his aid as

a chief architect, to finish and adorn the work, and superadd some

touches from his own hand, which might render it pleasing both to God

and man.

Although Greece had in his time produced several persons of

extraordinary worth, and much renowned for their achievements, such

as Timotheus and Agesilaus and Pelopidas and (Timoleon's chief model)

Epaminondas, yet the lustre of their best actions was obscured by a

degree of violence and labor, insomuch that some of them were matter

of blame and of repentance; whereas there is not any one act of

Timoleon's, setting aside the necessity he was placed under in

reference to his brother, to which, as Timaeus observes, we may not

fitly apply that exclamation of Sophocles:

O gods! what Venus, or what grace divine,

Did here with human workmanship combine?

For as the poetry of Antimachus, and the painting of Dionysius, the

artists of Colophon, though full of force and vigor, yet appeared to

be strained and elaborate in comparison with the pictures of

Nicomachus and the verses of Homer, which, besides their general

strength and beauty, have the peculiar charm of seeming to have been

executed with perfect ease and readiness; so the expeditions and acts

of Epaminondas or Agesilaus, that were full of toil and effort, when

compared with the easy and natural as well as noble and glorious

achievements of Timoleon, compel our fair and unbiased judgment to

pronounce the latter not indeed the effect of fortune, but the

success of fortunate merit.  Though he himself indeed ascribed that

success to the sole favor of fortune; and both in the letters which

he wrote to his friends at Corinth, and in the speeches he made to

the people of Syracuse, he would say, that he was thankful unto God,

who, designing to save Sicily, was pleased to honor him with the name

and title of the deliverance he vouchsafed it.  And having built a

chapel in his house, he there sacrificed to Good Hap, as a deity

that had favored him, and devoted the house itself to the Sacred

Genius; it being a house which the Syracusans had selected for him,

as a special reward and monument of his brave exploits, granting him

together with it the most agreeable and beautiful piece of land in

the whole country, where he kept his residence for the most part, and

enjoyed a private life with his wife and children, who came to him

from Corinth.  For he returned thither no more, unwilling to be

concerned in the broils and tumults of Greece, or to expose himself

to public envy (the fatal mischief which great commanders continually

run into, from the insatiable appetite for honors and authority); but

wisely chose to spend the remainder of his days in Sicily, and there

partake of the blessings he himself had procured, the greatest of

which was, to behold so many cities flourish, and so many thousands

of people live happy through his means.

As, however, not only, as Simonides says, "On every lark must grow a

crest," but also in every democracy there must spring up a false

accuser, so was it at Syracuse:  two of their popular spokesmen,

Laphystius and Demaenetus by name, fell to slander Timoleon.  The

former of whom requiring him to put in sureties that he would answer

to an indictment that would be brought against him, Timoleon would

not suffer the citizens, who were incensed at this demand, to oppose

it or hinder the proceeding, since he of his own accord had been, he

said, at all that trouble, and run so many dangerous risks for this

very end and purpose, that every one who wished to try matters by law

should freely have recourse to it.  And when Demaenetus, in a full

audience of the people, laid several things to his charge which had

been done while he was general, he made no other reply to him, but

only said he was much indebted to the gods for granting the request

he had so often made them, namely, that he might live to see the

Syracusans enjoy that liberty of speech which they now seemed to be

masters of.

Timoleon, therefore, having by confession of all done the greatest

and the noblest things of any Greek of his age, and alone

distinguished himself in those actions to which their orators and

philosophers, in their harangues and panegyrics at their solemn

national assemblies, used to exhort and incite the Greeks, and being

withdrawn beforehand by happy fortune, unspotted and without blood,

from the calamities of civil war, in which ancient Greece was soon

after involved; having also given full proof, as of his sage conduct

and manly courage to the barbarians and tyrants, so of his justice

and gentleness to the Greeks, and his friends in general; having

raised, too, the greater part of those trophies he won in battle,

without any tears shed or any mourning worn by the citizens either of

Syracuse or Corinth, and within less than eight years' space

delivered Sicily from its inveterate grievances and intestine

distempers, and given it up free to the native inhabitants, began, as

he was now growing old, to find his eyes fail, and awhile after

became perfectly blind.  Not that he had done anything himself which

might occasion this defect, or was deprived of his sight by any

outrage of fortune; it seems rather to have been some inbred and

hereditary weakness that was founded in natural causes, which by

length of time came to discover itself.  For it is said, that several

of his kindred and family were subject to the like gradual decay, and

lost all use of their eyes, as he did, in their declining years.

Athanis the historian tells us, that even during the war against

Hippo and Mamercus, while he was in his camp at Mylae, there appeared

a white speck within his eye, from whence all could foresee the

deprivation that was coming on him; this, however, did not hinder him

then from continuing the siege, and prosecuting the war, till he got

both the tyrants into his power; but upon his coming back to

Syracuse, he presently resigned the authority of sole commander, and

besought the citizens to excuse him from any further service, since

things were already brought to so fair an issue.  Nor is it so much

to be wondered, that he himself should bear the misfortune without

any marks of trouble; but the respect and gratitude which the

Syracusans showed him when he was entirely blind, may justly deserve

our admiration.  They used to go themselves to visit him in troops,

and brought all the strangers that traveled through their country to

his house and manor, that they also might have the pleasure to see

their noble benefactor; making it the great matter of their joy and

exultation, that when, after so many brave and happy exploits, he

might have returned with triumph into Greece, he should disregard all

the glorious preparations that were there made to receive him, and

choose rather to stay here and end his days among them.  Of the

various things decreed and done in honor of Timoleon, I consider one

most signal testimony to have been the vote which they passed, that,

whenever they should be at war with any foreign nation, they should

make use of none but a Corinthian general.  The method, also, of

their proceeding in council, was a noble demonstration of the same

deference for his person.  For, determining matters of less

consequence themselves, they always called him to advise in the more

difficult cases, and such as were of greater moment.  He was, on

these occasions, carried through the market-place in a litter, and

brought in, sitting, into the theater, where the people with one

voice saluted him by his name; and then, after returning the

courtesy, and pausing for a time, till the noise of their

gratulations and blessings began to cease, he heard the business in

debate, and delivered his opinion.  This being confirmed by a general

suffrage, his servants went back with the litter through the midst of

the assembly, the people waiting on him out with acclamations and

applauses, and then returning to consider other public matters, which

they could dispatch in his absence.  Being thus cherished in his old

age, with all the respect and tenderness due to a common father, he

was seized with a very slight indisposition, which however was

sufficient, with the aid of time, to put a period to his life.  There

was an allotment then of certain days given, within the space of

which the Syracusans were to provide whatever should be necessary for

his burial, and all the neighboring country people and strangers were

to make their appearance in a body; so that the funeral pomp was set

out with great splendor and magnificence in all other respects, and

the bier, decked with ornaments and trophies, was borne by a select

body of young men over that ground where the palace and castle of

Dionysius stood, before they were demolished by Timoleon.  There

attended on the solemnity several thousands of men and women, all

crowned with flowers, and arrayed in fresh and clean attire, which

made it look like the procession of a public festival; while the

language of all, and their tears mingling with their praise and

benediction of the dead Timoleon, manifestly showed that it was not

any superficial honor, or commanded homage, which they paid him, but

the testimony of a just sorrow for his death, and the expression of

true affection.  The bier at length being placed upon the pile of

wood that was kindled to consume his corpse, Demetrius, one of their

loudest criers, proceeded to read a proclamation to the following

purpose:  "The people of Syracuse has made a special decree to inter

Timoleon, the son of Timodemus, the Corinthian, at the common expense

of two hundred minas, and to honor his memory forever, by the

establishment of annual prizes to be competed for in music, and horse

races, and all sorts of bodily exercise; and this, because he

suppressed the tyrants, overthrew the barbarians, replenished the

principal cities, that were desolate, with new inhabitants, and then

restored the Sicilian Greeks to the privilege of living by their own

laws."  Besides this, they made a tomb for him in the marketplace,

which they afterwards built round with colonnades, and attached to it

places of exercise for the young men, and gave it the name of the

Timoleonteum.  And keeping to that form and order of civil policy and

observing those laws and constitutions which he left them, they lived

themselves a long time in great prosperity.

AEMILIUS PAULUS

Almost all historians agree that the Aemilii were one of the ancient and

patrician houses in Rome; and those authors who affirm that king Numa was

pupil to Pythagoras, tell us that the first who gave the name to his

posterity was Mamercus, the son of Pythagoras, who, for his grace and

address in speaking, was called Aemilius.  Most of this race that have

risen through their merit to reputation, also enjoyed good fortune; and

even the misfortune of Lucius Paulus at the battle of Cannae, gave

testimony to his wisdom and valor.  For, not being able to persuade his

colleague not to hazard the battle, he, though against his judgment,

joined with him in the contest, but was no companion in his flight:  on

the contrary, when he that was so resolute to engage deserted him in the

midst of danger, he kept the field, and died fighting.  This Aemilius had

a daughter named Aemilia, who was married to Scipio the Great, and a son

Paulus, who is the subject of my present history.

In his early manhood, which fell at a time when Rome was flourishing with

illustrious characters, he was distinguished for not attaching himself to

the studies usual with the young men of mark of that age, nor treading

the same paths to fame.  For he did not practice oratory with a view to

pleading causes, nor would he stoop to salute, embrace, and entertain the

vulgar, which were the usual insinuating arts by which many grew popular.

Not that he was incapable of either, but he chose to purchase a much more

lasting glory by his valor, justice, and integrity, and in these virtues

he soon outstripped all his equals.

The first honorable office he aspired to was that of aedile, which he

carried against twelve competitors of such merit, that all of them in

process of time were consuls.  Being afterwards chosen into the number of

priests called augurs, appointed amongst the Romans to observe and

register divinations made by the flight of birds or prodigies in the air,

he so carefully studied the ancient customs of his country, and so

thoroughly understood the religion of his ancestors, that this office,

which was before only esteemed a title of honor and merely upon that

account sought after, by his means rose to the rank of one of the highest

arts, and gave a confirmation to the correctness of the definition which

some philosophers have given of religion, that it is the science of

worshiping the gods.  When he performed any part of his duty, he did it

with great skill and utmost care, making it, when he was engaged in it,

his only business, not omitting any one ceremony, or adding the least

circumstance, but always insisting, with his companions of the same

order, even on points that might seem inconsiderable, and urging upon

them, that though they might think the deity was easily pacified, and

ready to forgive faults of inadvertency, yet any such laxity was a very

dangerous thing for a commonwealth to allow:  because no man ever began

the disturbance of his country's peace by a notorious breach of its laws;

and those who are careless in trifles, give a precedent for remissness in

important duties.  Nor was he less severe, in requiring and observing the

ancient Roman discipline in military affairs; not endeavoring, when he

had the command, to ingratiate himself with his soldiers by popular

flattery, though this custom prevailed at that time amongst many, who, by

favor and gentleness to those that were under them in their first

employment, sought to be promoted to a second; but, by instructing them

in the laws of military discipline with the same care and exactness a

priest would use in teaching ceremonies and dreadful mysteries, and by

severity to such as transgressed and contemned those laws, he maintained

his country in its former greatness, esteeming victory over enemies

itself but as an accessory to the proper training and disciplining of the

citizens.

Whilst the Romans were engaged in war with Antiochus the Great, against

whom their most experienced commanders were employed, there arose another

war in the west, and they were all up in arms in Spain.  Thither they

sent Aemilius, in the quality of praetor, not with six axes, which number

other praetors were accustomed to have carried before them, but with

twelve; so that in his praetorship he was honored with the dignity of a

consul.  He twice overcame the barbarians in battle, thirty thousand of

whom were slain:  successes chiefly to be ascribed to the wisdom and

conduct of the commander, who by his great skill in choosing the

advantage of the ground, and making the onset at the passage of a river,

gave his soldiers an easy victory.  Having made himself master of two

hundred and fifty cities, whose inhabitants voluntarily yielded, and

bound themselves by oath to fidelity, he left the province in peace, and

returned to Rome, not enriching himself a drachma by the war.  And,

indeed, in general, he was but remiss in making money; though he always

lived freely and generously on what he had, which was so far from being

excessive, that after his death there was but barely enough left to

answer his wife's dowry.

His first wife was Papiria, the daughter of Maso, who had formerly been

consul.  With her he lived a considerable time in wedlock, and then

divorced her, though she had made him the father of noble children; being

mother of the renowned Scipio, and Fabius Maximus.  The reason of this

separation has not come to our knowledge; but there seems to be a truth

conveyed in the account of another Roman's being divorced from his wife,

which may be applicable here.  This person being highly blamed by his

friends, who demanded, Was she not chaste? was she not fair? was she

not fruitful? holding out his shoe, asked them, Whether it was not new?

and well made?  Yet, added he, none of you can tell where it pinches

me.  Certain it is, that great and open faults have often led to no

separation; while mere petty repeated annoyances, arising from

unpleasantness or incongruity of character, have been the occasion of

such estrangement as to make it impossible for man and wife to live

together with any content.

Aemilius, having thus put away Papiria, married a second wife, by whom he

had two sons, whom he brought up in his own house, transferring the two

former into the greatest and most noble families of Rome.  The elder was

adopted into the house of Fabius Maximus, who was five times consul; the

younger, by the son of Scipio Africanus, his cousin-german, and was by

him named Scipio.

Of the daughters of Aemilius, one was married to the son of Cato, the

other to Aelius Tubero, a most worthy man, and the one Roman who best

succeeded in combining liberal habits with poverty.  For there were

sixteen near relations, all of them of the family of the Aelii, possessed

of but one farm, which sufficed them all, whilst one small house, or

rather cottage, contained them, their numerous offspring, and their

wives; amongst whom was the daughter of our Aemilius, who, although her

father had been twice consul, and had twice triumphed, was not ashamed

of her husband's poverty, but proud of his virtue that kept him poor.

Far otherwise it is with the brothers and relations of this age, who,

unless whole tracts of land, or at least walls and rivers, part their

inheritances, and keep them at a distance, never cease from mutual

quarrels.  History suggests a variety of good counsel of this sort, by

the way, to those who desire to learn and improve.

To proceed:  Aemilius, being chosen consul, waged war with the Ligurians,

or Ligustines, a people near the Alps.  They were a bold and warlike

nation, and their neighborhood to the Romans had begun to give them skill

in the arts of war.  They occupy the further parts of Italy ending under

the Alps, and those parts of the Alps themselves which are washed by the

Tuscan sea and face towards Africa, mingled there with Gauls and Iberians

of the coast.  Besides, at that time they had turned their thoughts to

the sea, and sailing as far as the Pillars of Hercules in light vessels

fitted for that purpose, robbed and destroyed all that trafficked in

those parts.  They, with an army of forty thousand, waited the coming of

Aemilius, who brought with him not above eight thousand, so that the

enemy was five to one when they engaged; yet he vanquished and put them

to flight, forcing them to retire into their walled towns, and in this

condition offered them fair conditions of accommodation; it being the

policy of the Romans not utterly to destroy the Ligurians, because they

were a sort of guard and bulwark against the frequent attempts of the

Gauls to overrun Italy.  Trusting wholly therefore to Aemilius, they

delivered up their towns and shipping into his hands.  He, at the utmost,

razed only the fortifications, and delivered their towns to them again,

but took away all their shipping with him, leaving them no vessels bigger

than those of three oars, and set at liberty great numbers of prisoners

they had taken both by sea and land, strangers as well as Romans.  These

were the acts most worthy of remark in his first consulship.

Afterwards he frequently intimated his desire of being a second time

consul, and was once candidate; but, meeting with a repulse and being

passed by, he gave up all thought of it, and devoted himself to his

duties as augur, and to the education of his children, whom he not only

brought up, as he himself had been, in the Roman and ancient discipline,

but also with unusual zeal in that of Greece.  To this purpose he not

only procured masters to teach them grammar, logic, and rhetoric, but had

for them also preceptors in modeling and drawing, managers of horses and

dogs, and instructors in field sports, all from Greece.  And, if he was

not hindered by public affairs, he himself would be with them at their

studies, and see them perform their exercises, being the most

affectionate father in Rome.

This was the time, in public matters, when the Romans were engaged in war

with Perseus, king of the Macedonians, and great complaints were made of

their commanders, who, either through their want of skill or courage,

were conducting matters so shamefully, that they did less hurt to the

enemy than they received from him.  They that not long before had forced

Antiochus the Great to quit the rest of Asia, to retire beyond Mount

Taurus, and confine himself to Syria, glad to buy his peace with fifteen

thousand talents; they that not long since had vanquished king Philip in

Thessaly, and freed the Greeks from the Macedonian yoke; nay, had

overcome Hannibal himself, who far surpassed all kings in daring and

power,thought it scorn that Perseus should think himself an enemy fit to

match the Romans, and to be able to wage war with them so long on equal

terms, with the remainder only of his father's routed forces; not being

aware that Philip after his defeat had greatly improved both the strength

and discipline of the Macedonian army.  To make which appear, I shall

briefly recount the story from the beginning.

Antigonus, the most powerful amongst the captains and successors of

Alexander, having obtained for himself and his posterity the title of

king, had a son named Demetrius, father to Antigonus, called Gonatas, and

he had a son Demetrius, who, reigning some short time, died and left a

young son called Philip.  The chief men of Macedon, fearing great

confusion might arise in his minority, called in Antigonus, cousin-german

to the late king, and married him to the widow, the mother of Philip.  At

first they only styled him regent and general, but, when they found by

experience that he governed the kingdom with moderation and to general

advantage, gave him the title of king.  This was he that was surnamed

Doson, as if he was a great promiser, and a bad performer.  To him

succeeded Philip, who in his youth gave great hopes of equaling the best

of kings, and that he one day would restore Macedon to its former state

and dignity, and prove himself the one man able to check the power of the

Romans, now rising and extending over the whole world.  But, being

vanquished in a pitched battle by Titus Flamininus near Scotussa, his

resolution failed, and he yielded himself and all that he had to the

mercy of the Romans, well contented that he could escape with paying a

small tribute.  Yet afterwards, recollecting himself, he bore it with

great impatience, and thought he lived rather like a slave that was

pleased with ease, than a man of sense and courage, whilst he held his

kingdom at the pleasure of his conquerors; which made him turn his whole

mind to war, and prepare himself with as much cunning and privacy as

possible.  To this end, he left his cities on the high roads and

sea-coast ungarrisoned, and almost desolate, that they might seem

inconsiderable; in the mean time, collecting large forces up the country,

and furnishing his inland posts, strongholds, and towns, with arms,

money, and men fit for service, he thus provided himself for war, and yet

kept his preparations close.  He had in his armory arms for thirty

thousand men; in granaries in places of strength, eight millions of

bushels of corn, and as much ready money as would defray the charge of

maintaining ten thousand mercenary soldiers for ten years in defense of

the country.  But before he could put these things into motion, and carry

his designs into effect, he died for grief and anguish of mind, being

sensible he had put his innocent son Demetrius to death, upon the

calumnies of one that was far more guilty.  Perseus, his son that

survived, inherited his hatred to the Romans as well as his kingdom, but

was incompetent to carry out his designs, through want of courage, and

the viciousness of a character in which, among faults and diseases of

various sorts, covetousness bore the chief place.  There is a statement

also of his not being true born; that the wife of king Philip took him

from his mother Gnathaenion (a woman of Argos, that earned her living as

a seamstress), as soon as he was born, and passed him upon her husband as

her own.  And this might be the chief cause of his contriving the death

of Demetrius; as he might well fear, that so long as there was a lawful

successor in the family, there was no security that his spurious birth

might not be revealed.

Notwithstanding all this, and though his spirit was so mean, and temper

so sordid, yet, trusting to the strength of his resources, he engaged in

a war with the Romans, and for a long time maintained it; repulsing and

even vanquishing some generals of consular dignity, and some great armies

and fleets.  He routed Publius Licinius, who was the first that invaded

Macedonia, in a cavalry battle, slew twenty-five hundred practiced

soldiers, and took six hundred prisoners; and, surprising their fleet as

they rode at anchor before Oreus, he took twenty ships of burden with all

their lading, sunk the rest that were freighted with corn, and, besides

this, made himself master of four galleys with five banks of oars.  He

fought a second battle with Hostilius, a consular officer, as he was

making his way into the country at Elimiae, and forced him to retreat;

and, when he afterwards by stealth designed an invasion through Thessaly,

challenged him to fight, which the other feared to accept.  Nay more, to

show his contempt of the Romans, and that he wanted employment, as a war

by the by, he made an expedition against the Dardanians, in which he slew

ten thousand of those barbarian people, and brought a great spoil away.

He privately, moreover, solicited the Gauls (also called Basternae), a

warlike nation, and famous for horsemen, dwelling near the Danube; and

incited the Illyrians, by the means of Genthius their king, to join with

him in the war.  It was also reported, that the barbarians, allured by

promise of rewards, were to make an irruption into Italy, through the

lower Gaul by the shore of the Adriatic Sea.

The Romans, being advertised of these things, thought it necessary no

longer to choose their commanders by favor or solicitation, but of their

own motion to select a general of wisdom and capacity for the management

of great affairs.  And such was Paulus Aemilius, advanced in years, being

nearly threescore, yet vigorous in his own person, and rich in valiant

sons and sons-in-law, besides a great number of influential relations and

friends, all of whom joined in urging him to yield to the desires of the

people, who called him to the consulship.  He at first manifested some

shyness of the people, and withdrew himself from their importunity,

professing reluctance to hold office; but, when they daily came to his

doors, urging him to come forth to the place of election, and pressing

him with noise and clamor, he acceded to their request.  When he appeared

amongst the candidates, it did not look as if it were to sue for the

consulship, but to bring victory and success, that he came down into the

Campus; they all received him there with such hopes and such gladness,

unanimously choosing him a second time consul; nor would they suffer the

lots to be cast, as was usual, to determine which province should fall to

his share, but immediately decreed him the command of the Macedonian war.

It is told, that when he had been proclaimed general against Perseus, and

was honorably accompanied home by great numbers of people, he found his

daughter Tertia, a very little girl, weeping, and taking her to him asked

her why she was crying.  She, catching him about the neck and kissing

him, said, "O father, do you not know that Perseus is dead?" meaning a

little dog of that name that was brought up in the house with her; to

which Aemilius replied, "Good fortune, my daughter; I embrace the omen."

This Cicero, the orator, relates in his book on divination.

It was the custom for such as were chosen consuls, from a stage designed

for such purposes, to address the people, and return them thanks for

their favor.  Aemilius, therefore, having gathered an assembly, spoke and

said, that he sued for the first consulship, because he himself stood in

need of such honor; but for the second, because they wanted a general;

upon which account he thought there was no thanks due:  if they judged

they could manage the war by any other to more advantage, he would

willingly yield up his charge; but, if they confided in him, they were

not to make themselves his colleagues in his office, or raise reports,

and criticize his actions, but, without talking, supply him with means

and assistance necessary to the carrying on of the war; for, if they

proposed to command their own commander, they would render this

expedition more ridiculous than the former.  By this speech he inspired

great reverence for him amongst the citizens, and great expectations of

future success; all were well pleased, that they had passed by such as

sought to be preferred by flattery, and fixed upon a commander endued

with wisdom and courage to tell them the truth.  So entirely did the

people of Rome, that they might rule, and become masters of the world,

yield obedience and service to reason and superior virtue.

That Aemilius, setting forward to the war, by a prosperous voyage and

successful journey, arrived with speed and safety at his camp, I

attribute to good fortune; but, when I see how the war under his command

was brought to a happy issue, partly by his own daring boldness, partly

by his good counsel, partly by the ready administration of his friends,

partly by his presence of mind and skill to embrace the most proper

advice in the extremity of danger, I cannot ascribe any of his remarkable

and famous actions (as I can those of other commanders) to his so much

celebrated good fortune; unless you will say that the covetousness of

Perseus was the good fortune of Aemilius.  The truth is, Perseus' fear of

spending his money was the destruction and utter ruin of all those

splendid and great preparations with which the Macedonians were in high

hopes to carry on the war with success.  For there came at his request

ten thousand horsemen of the Basternae, and as many foot, who were to

keep pace with them, and supply their places in case of failure; all of

them professed soldiers, men skilled neither in tilling of land, nor in

navigation of ships, nor able to get their livings by grazing, but whose

only business and single art and trade it was to fight and conquer all

that resisted them.  When these came into the district of Maedica, and

encamped and mixed with the king's soldiers, being men of great stature,

admirable at their exercises, great boasters, and loud in their threats

against their enemies, they gave new courage to the Macedonians, who were

ready to think the Romans would not be able to confront them, but would

be struck with terror at their looks and motions, they were so strange

and so formidable to behold.  When Perseus had thus encouraged his men,

and elevated them with these great hopes, as soon as a thousand gold

pieces were demanded for each captain, he was so amazed and beside

himself at the vastness of the amount, that out of mere stinginess he

drew back and let himself lose their assistance, as if he had been some

steward, not the enemy of the Romans, and would have to give an exact

account of the expenses of the war, to those with whom he waged it.  Nay,

when he had his foes as tutors, to instruct him what he had to do, who,

besides their other preparations, had a hundred thousand men drawn

together and in readiness for their service; yet he that was to engage

against so considerable a force, and in a war that was maintaining such

numbers as this, nevertheless doled out his money, and put seals on his

bags, and was as fearful of touching it, as if it had belonged to some

one else.  And all this was done by one, not descended from Lydians or

Phoenicians, but who could pretend to some share of the virtues of

Alexander and Philip, whom he was allied to by birth; men who conquered

the world by judging that empire was to be purchased by money, not money

by empire.  Certainly it became a proverb, that not Philip, but his gold

took the cities of Greece.  And Alexander, when he undertook his

expedition against the Indians, and found his Macedonians encumbered, and

appear to march heavily with their Persian spoils, first set fire to his

own carriages, and thence persuaded the rest to imitate his example, that

thus freed they might proceed to the war without hindrance.  Whereas

Perseus, abounding in wealth, would not preserve himself; his children,

and his kingdom, at the expense of a small part of his treasure; but

chose rather to be carried away with numbers of his subjects with the

name of the wealthy captive, and show the Romans what great riches he had

husbanded and preserved for them.  For he not only played false with the

Gauls, and sent them away, but also, after alluring Genthius, king of the

Illyrians, by the hopes of three hundred talents, to assist him in the

war, he caused the money to be counted out in the presence of his

messengers, and to be sealed up.  Upon which Genthius, thinking himself

possessed of what he desired, committed a wicked and shameful act:  he

seized and imprisoned the ambassadors sent to him from the Romans.

Whence Perseus, concluding that there was now no need of money to make

Genthius an enemy to the Romans, but that he had given a lasting earnest

of his enmity, and by his flagrant injustice sufficiently involved

himself in the war, defrauded the unfortunate king of his three hundred

talents, and without any concern beheld him, his wife, and children, in a

short time after, carried out of their kingdom, as from their nest, by

Lucius Anicius, who was sent against him with an army.

Aemilius, coming against such an adversary, made light indeed of him, but

admired his preparation and power.  For he had four thousand horse, and

not much fewer than forty thousand full-armed foot of the phalanx; and

planting himself along the seaside, at the foot of Mount Olympus, in

ground with no access on any side, and on all sides fortified with fences

and bulwarks of wood, remained in great security, thinking by delay and

expense to weary out Aemilius.  But he, in the meantime, busy in

thought, weighed all counsels and all means of attack, and perceiving his

soldiers, from their former want of discipline, to be impatient of delay,

and ready on all occasions to teach their general his duty, rebuked them,

and bade them not meddle with what was not their concern, but only take

care that they and their arms were in readiness, and to use their swords

like Romans when their commander should think fit to employ them.

Further he ordered, that the sentinels by night should watch without

javelins, that thus they might be more careful and surer to resist sleep,

having no arms to defend themselves against any attacks of an enemy.

What most annoyed the army was the want of water; for only a little, and

that foul, flowed out, or rather came by drops from a spring adjoining

the sea; but Aemilius, considering that he was at the foot of the high

and woody mountain Olympus, and conjecturing by the flourishing growth of

the trees that there were springs that had their course under ground, dug

a great many holes and wells along the foot of the mountain, which were

presently filled with pure water escaping from its confinement into the

vacuum they afforded.  Although there are some, indeed, who deny that

there are reservoirs of water lying ready provided out of sight, in the

places from whence springs flow, and that when they appear, they merely

issue and run out; on the contrary, they say, they are then formed and

come into existence for the first time, by the liquefaction of the

surrounding matter; and that this change is caused by density and cold,

when the moist vapor, by being closely pressed together, becomes fluid.

As women's breasts are not like vessels full of milk always prepared and

ready to flow from them; but their nourishment being changed in their

breasts, is there made milk, and from thence is pressed out.  In like

manner, places of the earth that are cold and full of springs, do not

contain any hidden waters or receptacles which are capable, as from a

source always ready and furnished, of supplying all the brooks and deep

rivers; but, by compressing and condensing the vapors and air, they turn

them into that substance.  And thus places that are dug open flow by that

pressure, and afford the more water (as the breasts of women do milk by

their being sucked), the vapor thus moistening and becoming fluid;

whereas ground that remains idle and undug is not capable of producing

any water, whilst it wants that motion which is the cause of

liquefaction.  But those that assert this opinion, give occasion to the

doubtful to argue, that on the same ground there should be no blood in

living creatures, but that it must be formed by the wound, some sort of

spirit or flesh being changed into a liquid and flowing matter.

Moreover, they are refuted by the fact that men who dig mines, either in

sieges or for metals, meet with rivers, which are not collected by little

and little (as must necessarily be, if they had their being at the very

instant the earth was opened), but break out at once with violence; and

upon the cutting through a rock, there often gush out great quantities of

water, which then as suddenly cease.  But of this enough.

Aemilius lay still for some days, and it is said, that there were never

two great armies so nigh, that enjoyed so much quiet.  When he had tried

and considered all things, he was informed that there was yet one passage

left unguarded, through Perrhaebia by the temple of Apollo and the Rock.

Gathering, therefore, more hope from the place being left defenseless

than fear from the roughness and difficulty of the passage, he proposed

it for consultation.  Amongst those that were present at the council,

Scipio, surnamed Nasica, son-in-law to Scipio Africanus, who afterwards

was so powerful in the senate-house, was the first that offered himself

to command those that should be sent to encompass the enemy.  Next to

him, Fabius Maximus, eldest son of Aemilius, although yet very young,

offered himself with great zeal.  Aemilius, rejoicing, gave them, not so

many as Polybius states, but, as Nasica himself tells us in a brief

letter which he wrote to one of the kings with an account of the

expedition, three thousand Italians that were not Romans, and his left

wing consisting of five thousand.  Taking with him, besides these, one

hundred and twenty horsemen, and two hundred Thracians and Cretans

intermixed that Harpalus had sent, he began his journey towards the sea,

and encamped near the temple of Hercules, as if he designed to embark,

and so to sail round and environ the enemy.  But when the soldiers had

supped and it was dark, he made the captains acquainted with his real

intentions, and marching all night in the opposite direction, away from

the sea, till he came under the temple of Apollo, there rested his army.

At this place Mount Olympus rises in height more than ten furlongs, as

appears by the epigram made by the man that measured it:

The summit of Olympus, at the site

Where stands Apollo's temple, has a height

Of full ten furlongs by the line, and more,

Ten furlongs, and one hundred feet, less four.

Eumelus' son Xenagoras, reached the place.

Adieu, O king, and do thy pilgrim grace.

It is allowed, say the geometricians, that no mountain in height or sea

in depth exceeds ten furlongs, and yet it seems probable that Xenagoras

did not take his admeasurement carelessly, but according to the rules of

art, and with instruments for the purpose.  Here it was that Nasica

passed the night.

A Cretan deserter, who fled to the enemy during the march, discovered to

Perseus the design which the Romans had to encompass him:  for he, seeing

that Aemilius lay still, had not suspected any such attempt.  He was

startled at the news, yet did not put his army in motion, but sent ten

thousand mercenary soldiers and two thousand Macedonians, under command

of Milo, with order to hasten and possess themselves of the passes.

Polybius relates that the Romans found these men asleep when they

attacked them; but Nasica says there was a sharp and severe conflict on

the top of the mountain, that he himself encountered a mercenary

Thracian, pierced him through with his javelin, and slew him; and that

the enemy being forced to retreat, Milo stripped to his coat and fled

shamefully without his armor, while he followed without danger, and

conveyed the whole army down into the country.

After this event, Perseus, now grown fearful, and fallen from his hopes,

removed his camp in all haste; he was under the necessity either to stop

before Pydna, and there run the hazard of a battle, or disperse his army

into cities, and there expect the event of the war, which, having once

made its way into his country, could not be driven out without great

slaughter and bloodshed.  But Perseus, being told by his friends that he

was much superior in number, and that men fighting in the defense of

their wives and children must needs feel all the more courage, especially

when all was done in the sight of their king, who himself was engaged in

equal danger, was thus again encouraged; and, pitching his camp, prepared

himself to fight, viewed the country, and gave out the commands, as if he

designed to set upon the Romans as soon as they approached.  The place

was a field fit for the action of a phalanx, which requires smooth

standing and even ground, and also had divers little hills, one joining

another, fit for the motions whether in retreat or advance of light

troops and skirmishers.  Through the middle ran the rivers Aeson and

Leucus, which, though not very deep, it being the latter end of summer,

yet were likely enough to give the Romans some trouble.

As soon as Aemilius had rejoined Nasica, he advanced in battle array

against the enemy; but when he found how they were drawn up, and the

number of their forces, he regarded them with admiration and surprise,

and halted, considering within himself.  The young commanders, eager to

fight, riding along, by his side, pressed him not to delay, and most of

all Nasica, flushed with his late success on Olympus.  To whom Aemilius

answered with a smile:  "So would I do, were I of your age; but many

victories have taught me the ways in which men are defeated, and forbid

me to engage soldiers weary with a long march, against an army drawn up

and prepared for battle."

Then he gave command that the front of his army, and such as were in

sight of the enemy, should form as if ready to engage, and those in the

rear should cast up the trenches and fortify the camp; so that the

hindmost in succession wheeling off by degrees and withdrawing, their

whole order was insensibly broken up, and the army encamped without noise

or trouble.

When it was night, and, supper being over, all were turning to sleep and

rest, on a sudden the moon, which was then at full and high in the

heavens, grew dark, and by degrees losing her light, passed through

various colors, and at length was totally eclipsed.  The Romans,

according to their custom, clattering brass pans and lifting up

firebrands and torches into the air, invoked the return of her light; the

Macedonians behaved far otherwise:  terror and amazement seized their

whole army, and a rumor crept by degrees into their camp that this

eclipse portended even that of their king.  Aemilius was no novice in

these things, nor was ignorant of the nature of the seeming

irregularities of eclipses, that in a certain revolution of time, the

moon in her course enters the shadow of the earth and is there obscured,

till, passing the region of darkness, she is again enlightened by the

Sun.  Yet being a devout man, a religious observer of sacrifices and the

art of divination, as soon as he perceived the moon beginning to regain

her former lustre, he offered up to her eleven heifers.  At the break of

day he sacrificed as many as twenty in succession to Hercules, without

any token that his offering was accepted; but at the one and twentieth,

the signs promised victory to defenders.  He then vowed a hecatomb and

solemn sports to Hercules, and commanded his captains to make ready for

battle, staying only till the sun should decline and come round to the

west, lest, being in their faces in the morning, it should dazzle the

eyes of his soldiers.  Thus he whiled away the time in his tent, which

was open towards the plain where his enemies were encamped.

When it grew towards evening, some tell us, Aemilius himself used a

stratagem to induce the enemy to begin the fight; that he turned loose a

horse without a bridle, and sent some of the Romans to catch him, upon

whose following the beast, the battle began.  Others relate that the

Thracians, under the command of one Alexander, set upon the Roman beasts

of burden that were bringing forage to the camp; that to oppose these, a

party of seven hundred Ligurians were immediately detached; and that,

relief coming still from both armies, the main bodies at last engaged.

Aemilius, like a wise pilot, foreseeing by the present waves and motion

of the armies, the greatness of the following storm, came out of his

tent, went through the legions, and encouraged his soldiers.  Nasica, in

the mean time, who had ridden out to the skirmishers, saw the whole force

of the enemy on the point of engaging.  First marched the Thracians, who,

he himself tells us, inspired him with most terror; they were of great

stature, with bright and glittering shields and black frocks under them,

their legs armed with greaves, and they brandished, as they moved,

straight and heavily-ironed spears over their right shoulders.  Next the

Thracians marched the mercenary soldiers, armed after different fashions;

with these the Paeonians were mingled.  These were succeeded by a third

division, of picked men, native Macedonians, the choicest for courage and

strength, in the prime of life, gleaming with gilt armor and scarlet

coats.  As these were taking their places they were followed from the

camp by the troops in phalanx called the Brazen Shields, so that the

whole plain seemed alive with the flashing of steel and the glistening of

brass; and the hills also with their shouts, as they cheered each other

on.  In this order they marched, and with such boldness and speed, that

those that were first slain died at but two furlongs distance from the

Roman camp.

The battle being begun, Aemilius came in and found that the foremost of

the Macedonians had already fixed the ends of their spears into the

shields of his Romans, so that it was impossible to come near them with

their swords.  When he saw this, and observed that the rest of the

Macedonians took the targets that hung on their left shoulders, and

brought them round before them, and all at once stooped their pikes

against their enemies' shields, and considered the great strength of this

wall of shields, and the formidable appearance of a front thus bristling

with arms, he was seized with amazement and alarm; nothing he had ever

seen before had been equal to it; and in after times he frequently used

to speak both of the sight and of his own sensations.  These, however, he

dissembled, and rode through his army without either breast-plate or

helmet, with a serene and cheerful countenance.

On the contrary, as Polybius relates, no sooner was the battle begun, but

the Macedonian king basely withdrew to the city Pydna, under a pretence

of sacrificing to Hercules:  a God that is not wont to regard the faint

offerings of cowards, or to fulfill unsanctioned vows.  For truly it can

hardly be a thing that heaven would sanction, that he that never shoots

should carry away the prize; he triumph that slinks from the battle; he

that takes no pains meet with success, or the wicked man prosper.  But to

Aemilius's petitions the god listened; he prayed for victory with his

sword in his hand, and fought while entreating divine assistance.

A certain Posidonius, who has at some length written a history of

Perseus, and professes to have lived at the time, and to have been

himself engaged in these events, denies that Perseus left the field

either through fear or pretence of sacrificing, but that, the very day

before the fight, he received a kick from a horse on his thigh; that

though very much disabled, and dissuaded by all his friends, he commanded

one of his riding-horses to be brought, and entered the field unarmed;

that amongst an infinite number of darts that flew about on all sides,

one of iron lighted on him, and though not with the point, yet by a

glance struck him with such force on his left side, that it tore his

clothes and so bruised his flesh that the mark remained a long time

after.  This is what Posidonius says in defense of Perseus.

The Romans not being able to make a breach in the phalanx, one Salius, a

commander of the Pelignians, snatched the ensign of his company and

threw it amongst the enemies; on seeing which, the Pelignians (as amongst

the Italians it is always thought the greatest breach of honor to abandon

a standard) rushed with great violence towards the place, where the

conflict grew very fierce, and the slaughter terrible on both sides.  For

these endeavored to cut the spears asunder with their swords, or to beat

them back with their shields, or put them by with their hands; and, on

the other side, the Macedonians held their long sarissas in both hands,

and pierced those that came in their way quite through their armor, no

shield or corslet being able to resist the force of that weapon.  The

Pelignians and Marrucinians were thrown headlong to the ground, having

without consideration, with mere animal fury, rushed upon a certain

death.  Their first ranks being slain, those that were behind were forced

to give back; it cannot be said they fled, but they retreated towards

Mount Olocrus.  When Aemilius saw this, Posidonius relates, he rent his

clothes, some of his men being ready to fly, and the rest not willing to

engage with a phalanx into which they could not hope to make any

entrance, a sort of palisade, as it were, impregnable and unapproachable,

with its close array of long spears everywhere meeting the assailant.

Nevertheless, the unequalness of the ground would not permit a widely

extended front to be so exactly drawn up as to have their shields

everywhere joined; and Aemilius perceived that there were a great many

interstices and breaches in the Macedonian phalanx; as it usually happens

in all great armies, according to the different efforts of the

combatants, who in one part press forward with eagerness, and in another

are forced to fall back.  Taking, therefore, this occasion, with all

speed he broke up his men into their cohorts, and gave them order to fall

into the intervals and openings of the enemy's body, and not to make one

general attack upon them all, but to engage, as they were divided, in

several partial battles.  These commands Aemilius gave to his captains,

and they to their soldiers; and no sooner had they entered the spaces and

separated their enemies, but they charged them, some on their side where

they were naked and exposed, and others, making a circuit, behind; and

thus destroyed the force of the phalanx, which consisted in common action

and close union.  And now, come to fight man to man, or in small parties,

the Macedonians smote in vain upon firm and long shields with their

little swords, whilst their slight bucklers were not able to sustain the

weight and force of the Roman swords, which pierced through all their

armor to their bodies; they turned, in fine, and fled.

The conflict was obstinate.  And here Marcus, the son of Cato, and son-

in-law of Aemilius, whilst he showed all possible courage, let fall his

sword.  Being a young man, carefully brought up and disciplined, and, as

son of so renowned a father, bound to give proof of more than ordinary

virtue, he thought his life but a burden, should he live and permit his

enemies to enjoy this spoil.  He hurried hither and thither, and wherever

he espied a friend or companion, declared his misfortune, and begged

their assistance; a considerable number of brave men being thus

collected, with one accord they made their way through their fellows

after their leader, and fell upon the enemy; whom, after a sharp

conflict, many wounds, and much slaughter, they repulsed, possessed the

place that was now deserted and free, and set themselves to search for

the sword, which at last they found covered with a great heap of arms and

dead bodies.  Overjoyed with this success, they raised the song of

triumph, and with more eagerness than ever, charged the foes that yet

remained firm and unbroken.  In the end, three thousand of the chosen

men, who kept their ground and fought valiantly to the last, were all cut

in pieces, while the slaughter of such as fled was also very great.  The

plain and the lower part of the hills were filled with dead bodies, and

the water of the river Leucus, which the Romans did not pass till the

next day after the battle, was then mingled with blood.  For it is said

there fell more than twenty-five thousand of the enemy; of the Romans, as

Posidonius relates, a hundred; as Nasica, only fourscore.  This battle,

though so great, was very quickly decided, it being three in the

afternoon when they first engaged, and not four when the enemy was

vanquished; the rest of the day was spent in the pursuit of the

fugitives, whom they followed about thirteen or fourteen miles, so that

it was far in the night when they returned.

All the others were met by their servants with torches, and brought back

with joy and great triumph to their tents, which were set out with

lights, and decked with wreaths of ivy and laurel.  But the general

himself was in great grief.  Of the two sons that served under him in the

war, the youngest was missing, whom he held most dear, and whose courage

and good qualities he perceived much to excel those of his brothers.

Bold and eager for distinction, and still a mere child in age, he

concluded that he had perished, whilst for want of experience he had

engaged himself too far amongst his enemies.  His sorrow and fears became

known to the army; the soldiers, quitting their suppers, ran about with

lights, some to Aemilius's tent, some out of the trenches, to seek him

amongst such as were slain in the first onset.  There was nothing but

grief in the camp, and the plain was filled with the cries of men calling

out for Scipio; for, from his very youth, he was an object of admiration;

endowed above any of his equals with the good qualities requisite either

for command or counsel.  At length, when it was late, and they almost

despaired, he returned from the pursuit with only two or three of his

companions, all covered with the fresh blood of his enemies, having been,

like some dog of noble breed, carried away by the pleasure, greater than

he could control, of his first victory.  This was that Scipio

that afterwards destroyed Carthage and Numantia, and was, without

dispute, the first of the Romans in merit, and had the greatest authority

amongst them.  Thus Fortune, deferring her displeasure and jealousy of

such great success to some other time, let Aemilius at present enjoy this

victory, without any detraction or diminution.

As for Perseus, from Pydna he fled to Pella with his cavalry, which was

as yet almost entire.  But when the foot came up with them, and,

upbraiding them as cowards and traitors, tried to pull them off their

horses, and fell to blows, Perseus, fearing the tumult, forsook the

common road, and, lest he should be known, pulled off his purple, and

carried it before him, and took his crown in his hand, and, that he might

the better converse with his friends, alighted from his horse and led

him.  Of those that were about him, one stopped, pretending to tie his

shoe that was loose, another to water his horse, a third to drink

himself; and thus lagging behind, by degrees left him, they having not so

much reason to fear their enemies, as his cruelty; for he, disordered by

his misfortune, sought to clear himself by laying the cause of the

overthrow upon everybody else.  He arrived at Pella in the night, where

Euctus and Eudaeus, two of his treasurers, came to him, and, what with

their reflecting on his former faults, and their free and ill-timed

admonitions and counsels, so exasperated him, that he killed them both,

stabbing them with his own dagger.  After this, nobody stuck to him but

Evander the Cretan, Archedemus the Aetolian, and Neon the Boeotian.  Of

the common soldiers there followed him only those from Crete, not out of

any good-will, but because they were as constant to his riches as the

bees to their hive.  For he carried a great treasure with him, out of

which he had suffered them to take cups, bowls, and other vessels of

silver and gold, to the value of fifty talents.  But when he was come to

Amphipolis, and afterwards to Galepsus, and his fears were a little

abated, he relapsed into his old and constitutional disease of

covetousness, and lamented to his friends that he had, through

inadvertency, allowed some gold plate which had belonged to Alexander the

Great to go into the hands of the Cretans, and besought those that had

it, with tears in his eyes, to exchange with him again for money.  Those

that understood him thoroughly knew very well he only played the Cretan

with the Cretans, but those that believed him, and restored what they

had, were cheated; as he not only did not pay the money, but by craft got

thirty talents more of his friends into his hands (which in a short time

after fell to the enemy), and with them sailed to Samothrace, and there

fled to the temple of Castor and Pollux for refuge.

The Macedonians were always accounted great lovers of their kings, but

now, as if their chief prop was broken, they all gave way together, and

submitted to Aemilius, and in two days made him master of their whole

country.  This seems to confirm the opinion which ascribes whatever he

did to good fortune.  The omen, also, that happened at Amphipolis, has a

supernatural character.  When he was sacrificing there, and the holy

rites were just begun, on a sudden, lightning fell upon the altar, set

the wood on fire, and completed the immolation of the sacrifice.  The

most signal manifestation, however, of preternatural agency appears in

the story of the rumor of his success.  For on the fourth day after

Perseus was vanquished at Pydna, whilst the people at Rome were seeing

the horse-races, a report suddenly arose at the entrance of the theater

that Aemilius had defeated Perseus in a great battle, and was reducing

all Macedonia under his power; and from thence it spread amongst the

people, and created general joy, with shoutings and acclamations for that

whole day through the city.  But when no certain author was found of the

news, and every one alike had taken it at random, it was abandoned for

the present and thought no more of, until, a few days after, certain

intelligence came, and then the first was looked upon as no less than a

miracle, having, under an appearance of fiction, contained what was real

and true.  It is reported, also, that the news of the battle fought in

Italy, near the river Sagra, was conveyed into Peloponnesus the same day,

and of that at Mycale against the Medes, to Plataea.  When the Romans had

defeated the Tarquins, who were combined with the Latins, a little after,

there were seen at Rome two tall and comely men, who professed to bring

the news from the camp.  They were conjectured to be Castor and Pollux.

The first man that spoke to them in the forum, near the fountain where

they were cooling their horses, which were all of a foam, expressed

surprise at the report of the victory, when, it is said, they smiled, and

gently touched his beard with their hands, the hair of which from being

black was, on the spot, changed to yellow.  This gave credit to what they

said, and fixed the name of Ahenobarbus, or Brazen-beard, on the man.

And a thing which happened in our own time will make all these credible.

For when Antonius rebelled against Domitian, and Rome was in

consternation, expecting great wars from the quarter of Germany, all on a

sudden, and nobody knows upon what account, the people spontaneously gave

out a rumor of victory, and the news ran current through the city, that

Antonius himself was slain, his whole army destroyed, and not so much as

a part of it escaped; nay, this belief was so strong and positive, that

many of the magistrates offered up sacrifice.  But when, at length, the

author was sought for, and none was to be found, it vanished by degrees,

every one shifting it off from himself to another, and, at last, was lost

in the numberless crowd, as in a vast ocean, and, having no solid ground

to support its credit, was, in a short time, not so much as named in the

city.  Nevertheless, when Domitian marched out with his forces to the

war, he met with messengers and letters that gave him a relation of the

victory; and the rumor, it was found, had come the very day it was

gained, though the distance between the places was more than twenty-five

hundred miles.  The truth of this no man of our time is ignorant of.

But to proceed.  Cnaeus Octavius, who was joined in command with

Aemilius, came to an anchor with his fleet under Samothrace, where, out

of respect to the gods, he permitted Perseus to enjoy the benefit of

refuge, but took care that he should not escape by sea.  Notwithstanding,

Perseus secretly persuaded Oroandes of Crete, master of a small vessel,

to convey him and his treasure away.  He, however, playing the true

Cretan, took in the treasure, and bade him come, in the night, with his

children and most necessary attendants, to the port by the temple of

Ceres; but, as soon as it was evening, set sail without him.  It had been

sad enough for Perseus to be forced to let down himself, his wife and

children, through a narrow window by a wall, — people altogether

unaccustomed to hardship and flying; but that which drew a far sadder

sigh from his heart was, when he was told by a man, as he wandered on the

shore, that he had seen Oroandes under sail in the main sea; it being now

about daybreak.  So, there being no hopes left of escaping, he fled back

again to the wall, which he and his wife recovered, though they were seen

by the Romans, before they could reach them.  His children he

himself had delivered into the hands of Ion, one that had been his

favorite, but now proved his betrayer, and was the chief cause that

forced him (beasts themselves will do so when their young ones are taken)

to come and yield himself up to those that had them in their power.  His

greatest confidence was in Nasica, and it was for him he called, but he

not being there, he bewailed his misfortune, and, seeing there was no

possible remedy, surrendered himself to Octavius.  And here, in

particular, he made it manifest that he was possessed with a vice more

sordid than covetousness itself, namely, the fondness of life; by which

he deprived himself even of pity, the only thing that fortune never takes

away from the most wretched.  He desired to be brought to Aemilius, who

arose from his seat, and accompanied with his friends went to receive

him, with tears in his eyes, as a great man fallen by the anger of the

gods and his own ill fortune; when Perseus — the most shameful of sights

— threw himself at his feet, embraced his knees, and uttered unmanly

cries and petitions, such as Aemilius was not able to bear, nor would

vouchsafe to hear:  but looking on him with a sad and angry countenance

he said, "Why, unhappy man, do you thus take pains to exonerate fortune

of your heaviest charge against her, by conduct that will make it seem

that you are not unjustly in calamity, and that it is not your present

condition, but your former happiness, that was more than your deserts?

And why depreciate also my victory, and make my conquests insignificant,

by proving yourself a coward, and a foe beneath a Roman?  Distressed

valor challenges great respect, even from enemies; but cowardice, though

never so successful, from the Romans has always met with scorn."  Yet for

all this he took him up, gave him his hand, and delivered him into the

custody of Tubero.  Meantime, he himself carried his sons, his

son-in-law, and others of chief rank, especially of the younger sort,

back with him into his tent, where for a long time he sat down without

speaking one word, insomuch that they all wondered at him.  At last, he

began to discourse of fortune and human affairs.  "Is it meet," said he,

"for him that knows he is but man, in his greatest prosperity to pride

himself, and be exalted at the conquest of a city, nation, or kingdom,

and not rather well to weigh this change of fortune, in which all

warriors may see an example of their common frailty, and learn a lesson

that there is nothing durable or constant?  For what time can men select

to think themselves secure, when that of victory itself forces us more

than any to dread our own fortune?  and a very little consideration on

the law of things, and how all are hurried round, and each man's station

changed, will introduce sadness in the midst of the greatest joy.  Or can

you, when you see before your eyes the succession of Alexander himself,

who arrived at the height of power and ruled the greatest empire, in the

short space of an hour trodden under foot, — when you behold a king, that

was but even now surrounded with so numerous an army, receiving

nourishment to support his life from the hands of his conquerors, — can

you, I say, believe there is any certainty in what we now possess, whilst

there is such a thing as chance?  No, young men, cast off that vain

pride and empty boast of victory; sit down with humility, looking always

for what is yet to come, and the possible future reverses which the

divine displeasure may eventually make the end of our present happiness."

It is said that Aemilius, having spoken much more to the same purpose,

dismissed the young men properly humbled, and with their vain-glory and

insolence thoroughly chastened and curbed by his address.

When this was done, he put his army into garrisons, to refresh

themselves, and went himself to visit Greece, and to spend a short time

in relaxations equally honorable and humane.  For, as he passed, he eased

the people's grievances, reformed their governments, and bestowed gifts

upon them; to some, corn, to others, oil out of the king's storehouses,

in which, they report, there were such vast quantities laid up, that

receivers and petitioners were lacking before they could be exhausted.

In Delphi he found a great square pillar of white marble, designed for

the pedestal of king Perseus' golden statue, on which he commanded his

own to be placed, alleging that it was but just that the conquered should

give place to the conquerors.  In Olympia he is said to have uttered the

saying everybody has heard, that Phidias had carved Homer's Jupiter.

When the ten commissioners arrived from Rome, he delivered up again to

the Macedonians their cities and country, granting them to live at

liberty, and according to their own laws, only paying the Romans the

tribute of a hundred talents, double which sum they had been wont to pay

to their kings.  Then he celebrated all manner of shows and games, and

sacrifices to the gods, and made great entertainments and feasts; the

charge of all which he liberally defrayed out of the king's treasury; and

showed that he understood the ordering and placing of his guests, and how

every man should be received, answerably to their rank and quality, with

such nice exactness, that the Greeks were full of wonder, finding the

care of these matters of pleasure did not escape him, and that though

involved in such important business, he could observe correctness in

these bides.  Nor was it least gratifying to him, that, amidst all the

magnificent and splendid preparations, he himself was always the most

grateful sight, and greatest pleasure to those he entertained.  And he

told those that seemed to wonder at his diligence, that there was the

same spirit shown in marshaling a banquet as an army; in rendering the

one formidable to the enemy, the other acceptable to the guests.  Nor did

men less praise his liberality, and the greatness of his soul, than his

other virtues; for he would not so much as see those great quantities of

silver and gold, which were heaped together out of the king's palaces,

but delivered them to the quaestors, to be put into the public treasury.

He only permitted his own sons, who were great lovers of learning, to

take the king's books; and when he distributed rewards due to

extraordinary valor, he gave his son-in-law, Aelius Tubero, a bowl that

weighed five pounds.  This is that Tubero we have already mentioned, who

was one of sixteen relations that lived together, and were all maintained

out of one little farm; and it is said, that this was the first plate

that ever entered the house of the Aelii, brought thither as an honor and

reward of virtue; before this time, neither they nor their wives ever

made use either of silver or gold.

Having thus settled everything well, taking his leave of the Greeks, and

exhorting the Macedonians, that, mindful of the liberty they had received

from the Romans, they should endeavor to maintain it by their obedience

to the laws, and concord amongst themselves, he departed for Epirus,

having orders from the senate, to give the soldiers that followed him in

the war against Perseus the pillage of the cities of that country.  That

he might set upon them all at once by surprise and unawares, he summoned

ten of the principal men out of each, whom he commanded, on such an

appointed day, to bring all the gold and silver they had either in their

private houses or temples; and, with every one of these, as if it were

for this very purpose, and under a presence of searching for and

receiving the gold, he sent a centurion and a guard of soldiers; who, the

set day being come, rose all at once, and at the very self-same time fell

upon them, and proceeded to ransack the cities; so that in one hour a

hundred and fifty thousand persons were made slaves, and threescore and

ten cities sacked.  Yet what was given to each soldier, out of so vast a

destruction and utter ruin, amounted to no more than eleven drachmas; so

that men could only shudder at the issue of a war, where the wealth of a

whole nation, thus divided, turned to so little advantage and profit to

each particular man.

When Aemilius had done this, — an action perfectly contrary to his gentle

and mild nature, — he went down to Oricus, where he embarked his army for

Italy.  He sailed up the river Tiber in the king's galley, that had

sixteen banks of oars, and was richly adorned with captured arms and with

cloths of purple and scarlet; so that, the vessel rowing slowly against

the stream, the Romans that crowded on the shore to meet him had a

foretaste of his following triumph.  But the soldiers, who had cast a

covetous eye on the treasures of Perseus, when they did not obtain as

much as they thought they deserved, were secretly enraged and angry with

Aemilius for this, but openly complained that he had been a severe and

tyrannical commander over them; nor were they ready to show their desire

of his triumph.  When Servius Galba, who was Aemilius's enemy, though he

commanded as tribune under him, understood this, he had the boldness

plainly to affirm that a triumph was not to be allowed him; and sowed

various calumnies amongst the soldiers, which yet further increased their

ill-will.  Nay more, he desired the tribunes of the people, because the

four hours that were remaining of the day could not suffice for the

accusation, to let him put it off till another.  But when the tribunes

commanded him to speak then, if he had anything to say, he began a long

oration, filled with all manner of reproaches, in which he spent the

remaining part of the time, and the tribunes, when it was dark, dismissed

the assembly.  The soldiers, growing more vehement on this, thronged all

to Galba, and entering into a conspiracy, early in the morning beset the

capitol, where the tribunes had appointed the following assembly to be

held.

As soon as it was day, it was put to the vote, and the first tribe was

proceeding to refuse the triumph; and the news spread amongst the people

and to the senate.  The people were indeed much grieved that Aemilius

should meet with such ignominy; but this was only in words, which had no

effect.  The chief of the senate exclaimed against it as a base action,

and excited one another to repress the boldness and insolence of the

soldiers, which would erelong become altogether ungovernable and violent,

were they now permitted to deprive Aemilius of his triumph.  Forcing a

passage through the crowd, they came up in great numbers, and desired the

tribunes to defer polling, till they had spoken what they had to say to

the people.  All things thus suspended, and silence being made, Marcus

Servilius stood up, a man of consular dignity, and who had killed

twenty-three of his enemies that had challenged him in single combat.

"It is now more than ever," said he, "clear to my mind how great a

commander our Aemilius Paulus is, when I see he was able to perform such

famous and great exploits with an army so full of sedition and baseness;

nor can I sufficiently wonder, that a people that seemed to glory in the

triumphs over Illyrians and Ligurians, should now through envy refuse to

see the Macedonian king led alive, and all the glory of Philip and

Alexander in captivity to the Roman power.  For is it not a strange thing

for you who, upon a slight rumor of victory that came by chance into the

city, did offer sacrifices and put up your requests unto the gods that

you might see the report verified, now, when the general is returned with

an undoubted conquest, to defraud the gods of honor, and yourselves of

joy, as if you feared to behold the greatness of his warlike deed, or

were resolved to spare your enemy?  And of the two, much better were it

to put a stop to the triumph, out of pity to him, than out of envy to

your general; yet to such a height of power is malice arrived amongst

you, that a man without one scar to show on his skin, that is smooth and

sleek with ease and home-keeping habits, will undertake to define the

office and duties of a general before us, who with our own wounds have

been taught how to judge of the valor or the cowardice of commanders."

And, at the same time, putting aside his garment, he showed an infinite

number of scars upon his breast, and, turning about, he exposed some

parts of his person which it is usual to conceal; and, addressing Galba,

said:  "You deride me for these, in which I glory before my

fellow-citizens, for it is in their service, in which I have ridden night

and day, that I received them; but go collect the votes, whilst I follow

after, and note the base and ungrateful, and such as choose rather to be

flattered and courted than commanded by their general."  It is said, this

speech so stopped the soldiers' mouths, and altered their minds, that all

the tribes decreed a triumph for Aemilius; which was performed after this

manner.

The people erected scaffolds in the Forum, in the circuses, as they call

their buildings for horse-races, and in all other parts of the city where

they could best behold the show.  The spectators were clad in white

garments; all the temples were open, and full of garlands and perfumes;

the ways were cleared and kept open by numerous officers, who drove back

all who crowded into or ran across the main avenue.  This triumph lasted

three days.  On the first, which was scarcely long enough for the sight,

were to be seen the statues, pictures, and colossal images, which were

taken from the enemy, drawn upon two hundred and fifty chariots.  On the

second, was carried in a great many wagons the finest and richest armor

of the Macedonians, both of brass and steel, all newly polished and

glittering; the pieces of which were piled up and arranged purposely with

the greatest art, so as to seem to be tumbled in heaps carelessly and by

chance; helmets were thrown upon shields, coats of mail upon greaves;

Cretan targets, and Thracian bucklers and quivers of arrows, lay huddled

amongst horses' bits, and through these there appeared the points of

naked swords, intermixed with long Macedonian sarissas.  All these arms

were fastened together with just so much looseness that they struck

against one another as they were drawn along, and made a harsh and

alarming noise, so that, even as spoils of a conquered enemy, they could

not be beheld without dread.  After these wagons loaded with armor, there

followed three thousand men who carried the silver that was coined, in

seven hundred and fifty vessels, each of which weighed three talents, and

was carried by four men.  Others brought silver bowls and goblets and

cups, all disposed in such order as to make the best show, and all

curious as well for their size as the solidity of their embossed work.

On the third day, early in the morning, first came the trumpeters, who

did not sound as they were wont in a procession or solemn entry, but such

a charge as the Romans use when they encourage the soldiers to fight.

Next followed young men wearing frocks with ornamented borders, who led

to the sacrifice a hundred and twenty stalled oxen, with their horns

gilded, and their heads adorned with ribbons and garlands; and with these

were boys that carried basins for libation, of silver and gold.  After

this was brought the gold coin, which was divided into vessels that

weighed three talents, like those that contained the silver; they were in

number seventy-seven.  These were followed by those that brought the

consecrated bowl which Aemilius had caused to be made, that weighed ten

talents, and was set with precious stones.  Then were exposed to view the

cups of Antigonus and Seleucus, and those of the Thericlean make, and

all the gold plate that was used at Perseus' table.  Next to these came

Perseus' chariot, in which his armor was placed, and on that his diadem.

And, after a little intermission, the king's children were led captives,

and with them a train of their attendants, masters, and teachers, all

shedding tears, and stretching out hands to the spectators, and making

the children themselves also beg and entreat their compassion.  There

were two sons and a daughter, whose tender age made them but little

sensible of the greatness of their misery, which very insensibility of

their condition rendered it the more deplorable; insomuch that Perseus

himself was scarcely regarded as he went along, whilst pity fixed the

eyes of the Romans upon the infants; and many of them could not forbear

tears, and all beheld the sight with a mixture of sorrow and pleasure,

until the children were passed.

After his children and their attendants came Perseus himself, clad all in

black, and wearing the boots of his country; and looking like one

altogether stunned and deprived of reason, through the greatness of his

misfortunes.  Next followed a great company of his friends and familiars,

whose countenances were disfigured with grief, and who let the spectators

see, by their tears and their continual looking upon Perseus, that it was

his fortune they so much lamented, and that they were regardless of their

own.  Perseus sent to Aemilius to entreat that he might not be led in

pomp, but be left out of the triumph; who, deriding, as was but just, his

cowardice and fondness of life, sent him this answer, that as for that,

it had been before, and was now, in his own power; giving him to

understand that the disgrace could be avoided by death; which the

fainthearted man not having the spirit for, and made effeminate by I know

not what hopes, allowed himself to appear as a part of his own spoils.

After these were carried four hundred crowns, all made of gold, sent from

the cities by their respective deputations to Aemilius, in honor of his

victory.  Then he himself came, seated on a chariot magnificently adorned

(a man well worthy to be looked at, even without these ensigns of power),

dressed in a robe of purple, interwoven with gold, and holding a laurel

branch in his right hand.  All the army, in like manner, with boughs of

laurel in their hands, divided into their bands and companies, followed

the chariot of their commander; some singing verses, according to the

usual custom, mingled with raillery; others, songs of triumph, and the

praise of Aemilius's deeds; who, indeed, was admired and accounted happy

by all men, and unenvied by every one that was good; except so far as it

seems the province of some god to lessen that happiness which is too

great and inordinate, and so to mingle the affairs of human life that no

one should be entirely free and exempt from calamities; but, as we read

in Homer, that those should think themselves truly blessed to whom

fortune has given an equal share of good and evil.

Aemilius had four sons, of whom Scipio and Fabius, as is already related,

were adopted into other families; the other two, whom he had by a second

wife, and who were yet but young, he brought up in his own house.  One of

these died at fourteen years of age, five days before his father's

triumph; the other at twelve, three days after:  so that there was no

Roman without a deep sense of his suffering, and who did not shudder at

the cruelty of fortune, that had not scrupled to bring so much sorrow

into a house replenished with happiness, rejoicing, and sacrifices, and

to intermingle tears and laments with songs of victory and triumph.

Aemilius, however, reasoning justly that courage and resolution was not

merely to resist armor and spears, but all the shocks of ill fortune, so

met and so adapted himself to these mingled and contrasting

circumstances, as to outbalance the evil with the good, and his private

concerns with those of the public; and thus did not allow anything

either to take away from the grandeur, or sully the dignity of his

victory.  For as soon as he had buried the first of his sons, (as we have

already said,) he triumphed; and the second dying almost as soon as his

triumph was over, he gathered together an assembly of the people, and

made an oration to them, not like a man that stood in need of comfort

from others, but one that undertook to support his fellow-citizens in

their grief for the sufferings he himself underwent.

"I," he said, "who never yet feared anything that was human, have,

amongst such as were divine, always had a dread of fortune as faithless

and inconstant; and, for the very reason that in this war she had been as

a favorable gale in all my affairs, I still expected some change and

reflux of things.  In one day I passed the Ionian sea, and reached

Corcyra from Brundisium; thence in five more I sacrificed at Delphi, and

in other five days came to my forces in Macedonia, where, after I had

finished the usual sacrifices for the purifying of the army, I entered on

my duties, and, in the space of fifteen days, put an honorable period to

the war.  Still retaining a jealousy of fortune, even from the smooth

current of my affairs, and seeing myself secure and free from the danger

of any enemy, I chiefly dreaded the change of the goddess at sea, whilst

conveying home my victorious army, vast spoils, and a captive king.  Nay,

indeed, after I was returned to you safe, and saw the city full of joy,

congratulating, and sacrifices, yet still I distrusted, well knowing that

fortune never conferred any great benefits that were unmixed and

unattended with probabilities of reverse.  Nor could my mind, that was

still as it were in labor, and always foreseeing something to befall this

city, free itself from this fear, until this great misfortune befell me

in my own family, and till, in the midst of those days set apart for

triumph, I carried two of the best of sons, my only destined successors,

one after another to their funerals.  Now, therefore, I am myself safe

from danger, at least as to what was my greatest care; and I trust and am

verily persuaded, that for the time to come Fortune will prove constant

and harmless unto you; since she has sufficiently wreaked her jealousy at

our great successes on me and mine, and has made the conqueror as marked

an example of human instability as the captive whom he led in triumph,

with this only difference, that Perseus, though conquered, does yet enjoy

his children, while the conqueror, Aemilius, is deprived of his."  This

was the generous and magnanimous oration Aemilius is said to have spoken

to the people, from a heart truly sincere and free from all artifice.

Although he very much pitied the condition of Perseus, and studied to

befriend him in what he was able, yet he could procure no other favor,

than his removal from the common prison, the Carcer, into a more cleanly

and humane place of security, where, whilst he was guarded, it is said,

he starved himself to death.  Others state his death to have been of the

strangest and most unusual character:  that the soldiers who were his

guard, having conceived a spite and hatred against him for some reason,

and finding no other way to grieve and afflict him, kept him from sleep,

took pains to disturb him when he was disposed to rest, and found out

contrivances to keep him continually awake, by which means at length he

was utterly worn out, and expired.  Two of his children, also, died soon

after him; the third, who was named Alexander, they say proved an

exquisite artist in turning and graving small figures, and learned so

perfectly to speak and write the Roman language, that he became clerk to

the magistrates, and behaved himself in his office with great skill and

conduct.

They ascribe to Aemilius's conquest of Macedonia, this most acceptable

benefit to the people, that he brought so vast a quantity of money into

the public treasury, that they never paid any taxes, until Hirtius and

Pansa were consuls, which was in the first war between Antony and Caesar.

This also was peculiar and remarkable in Aemilius, that though he was

extremely beloved and honored by the people, yet he always sided with the

nobles; nor would he either say or do anything to ingratiate himself

with the multitude, but constantly adhered to the nobility, in all

political matters, which in after-times was cast in Scipio Africanus's

teeth by Appius; these two being in their time the most considerable men

in the city, and standing in competition for the office of censor.  The

one had on his side the nobles and the senate, to which party the Appii

were always attached; the other, although his own interest was great, yet

made use of the favor and love of the people.  When, therefore, Appius

saw Scipio come to the market-place, surrounded with men of mean rank,

and such as were but newly made free, yet were very fit to manage a

debate, to gather together the rabble, and to carry whatsoever they

designed by importunity and noise, crying out with a loud voice:  "Groan

now," said he, "O Aemilius Paulus, if you have knowledge in your grave of

what is done above, that your son aspires to be censor, by the help of

Aemilius, the common crier, and Licinius Philonicus."  Scipio always had

the good-will of the people, because he was constantly heaping favors on

them; but Aemilius, although he still took part with the nobles, yet was

as much the people's favorite as those who most sought popularity and

used every art to obtain it.  This they made manifest, when, amongst

other dignities, they thought him worthy of the office of censor, a trust

accounted most sacred and of great authority, as well in other things, as

in the strict examination into men's lives.  For the censors had power to

expel a senator, and enroll whom they judged most fit in his room, and to

disgrace such young men as lived licentiously, by taking away their

horses.  Besides this, they were to value and assess each man's estate,

and register the number of the people.  There were numbered by Aemilius,

337,452 men.  He declared Marcus Aemilius Lepidus first senator, who had

already four times held that honor, and he removed from their office

three of the senators of the least note.  The same moderation he and his

fellow censor, Marcius Philippus, used at the muster of the knights.

Whilst he was thus busy about many and weighty affairs, he fell sick of a

disease, which at first seemed hazardous; and although after awhile it

proved without danger, yet was troublesome and difficult to be cured:  so

that by the advice of his physicians he sailed to Velia, in South Italy,

and there dwelt a long time near the sea, where he enjoyed all possible

quietness.  The Romans, in the meanwhile, longed for his return, and

oftentimes by their expressions in the theaters, gave public testimony of

their great desire and impatience to see him.  When, therefore, the time

drew nigh that a solemn sacrifice was of necessity to be offered, and he

found, as he thought, his body strong enough, he came back again to Rome,

and there performed the holy rites with the rest of the priests, the

people in the mean time crowding about him, and congratulating his

return.  The next day he sacrificed again to the gods for his recovery;

and, having finished the sacrifice, returned to his house and sat down to

dinner, when, all on a sudden and when no change was expected, he fell

into a fit of delirium, and, being quite deprived of his senses, the

third day after ended a life, in which he had wanted no manner of thing

which is thought to conduce to happiness.  Nay, his very funeral pomp had

something in it remarkable and to be admired, and his virtue was graced

with the most solemn and happy rites at his burial; consisting, not in

gold and ivory, or in the usual sumptuousness and splendor of such

preparations, but in the good-will, honor, and love, not only of his

fellow-citizens, but of his enemies themselves.  For as many Spaniards,

Ligurians, and Macedonians, as happened to be present at the solemnity,

that were young and of vigorous bodies, took up the bier and carried it

whilst the more aged followed, calling Aemilius the benefactor and

preserver of their countries.  For not only at the time of his conquest

had he acted to all with kindness and clemency, but, through the whole

course of his life, he continued to do them good and look after their

concerns, as if they had been his familiars and relations.  They report,

that the whole of his estate scarce amounted to three hundred and seventy

thousand drachmas; to which he left his two sons coheirs; but Scipio, who

was the youngest, being adopted into the more wealthy family of

Africanus, gave it all to his brother.  Such are said to have been the

life and manners of Aemilius.

COMPARISON OF TIMOLEON WITH AEMILIUS PAULUS

Such being the story of these two great men's lives, without doubt in the

comparison very little difference will be found between them.  They made

war with two powerful enemies: the one against the Macedonians, and the

other with the Carthaginians; and the success was in both cases glorious.

One conquered Macedon from the seventh succeeding heir of Antigonus; the

other freed Sicily from usurping tyrants, and restored the island to its

former liberty.  Unless, indeed, it be made a point on Aemilius's side,

that he engaged with Perseus when his forces were entire, and composed of

men that had often successfully fought with the Romans; whereas, Timoleon

found Dionysius in a despairing condition, his affairs being reduced to

the last extremity: or, on the contrary, it be urged in favor of

Timoleon, that he vanquished several tyrants, and a powerful Carthaginian

army, with an inconsiderable number of men gathered together from all

parts, not with such an army as Aemilius had, of well disciplined

soldiers, experienced in war, and accustomed to obey; but with such as

through the hopes of gain resorted to him, unskilled in fighting and

ungovernable.  And when actions are equally glorious, and the means to

compass them unequal, the greatest esteem is certainly due to that

general who conquers with the smaller power.

Both have the reputation of having behaved themselves with an uncorrupted

integrity, in all the affairs they managed:  but Aemilius had the

advantage of being, from his infancy, by the laws and customs of his

country, brought up to the proper management of public affairs, which

Timoleon brought himself to by his own efforts.  And this is plain; for

at that time all the Romans were uniformly orderly and obedient,

respectful to the laws and to their fellow-citizens: whereas it is

remarkable, that not one of the Greek generals commanding in Sicily,

could keep himself uncorrupted, except Dion, and of him many entertained

a jealousy that he would establish a monarchy there, after the

Lacedaemonian manner.  Timaeus writes, that the Syracusans sent even

Gylippus home dishonorably, and with a reputation lost by the unsatiable

covetousness he displayed when he commanded the army.  And numerous

historians tell us of the wicked and perfidious acts committed by Pharax

the Spartan, and Callippus the Athenian, with the view of making

themselves kings of Sicily.  Yet what were these men, and what strength

had they, to entertain such a thought?  The first of them was a follower

of Dionysius, when he was expelled from Syracuse, and the other a hired

captain of foot under Dion, and came into Sicily with him.  But Timoleon

at the request and prayers of the Syracusans, was sent to be their

general, and had no need to seek for power, but had a perfect title,

founded on their own offers, to hold it; and yet no sooner had he freed

Sicily from her oppressors, but he willingly surrendered it.

It is truly worthy our admiration in Aemilius, that, though he conquered

so great and so rich a realm as that of Macedon, yet he would not touch,

nor see any of the money, nor did he advantage himself one farthing by

it, though he was very generous of his own to others.  I would not intend

any reflection on Timoleon, for accepting of a house and handsome estate

in the country, which the Syracusans presented him with; there is no

dishonor in accepting; but yet there is greater glory in a refusal, and

the supremest virtue is shown in not wanting what it might fairly take.

And as that body is, without doubt, the most strong and healthful, which

can the easiest support extreme cold and excessive heat in the change of

seasons, and that the most firm and collected mind which is not puffed up

with prosperity, nor dejected with adversity; so the virtue of Aemilius

was eminently seen in his countenance and behavior continuing as noble

and lofty upon the loss of two dear sons, as when he achieved his

greatest victories and triumphs.  But Timoleon, after he had justly

punished his brother, a truly heroic action, let his reason yield to a

causeless sorrow, and, humiliated with grief and remorse, forbore for

twenty years to appear in any public place, or meddle with any affairs of

the commonwealth.  It is truly very commendable to abhor and shun the

doing any base action; but to stand in fear of every kind of censure or

disrepute, may argue a gentle and open-hearted, but not a heroic temper.

PELOPIDAS

Cato Major, hearing some commend one that was rash, and inconsiderately

daring in a battle, said, "There is a difference between a man's prizing

valor at a great rate, and valuing life at little;" a very just remark.

Antigonus, we know, at least, had a soldier, a venturous fellow, but of

wretched health and constitution; the reason of whose ill looks he took

the trouble to inquire into; and, on understanding from him that it was a

disease, commanded his physicians to employ their utmost skill, and if

possible recover him; which brave hero, when once cured, never afterwards

sought danger or showed himself venturous in battle; and, when Antigonus

wondered and upbraided him with his change, made no secret of the reason,

and said, "Sir, you are the cause of my cowardice, by freeing me from

those miseries which made me care little for life."  With the same

feeling, the Sybarite seems to have said of the Spartans, that it was no

commendable thing in them to be so ready to die in the wars, since by

that they were freed from such hard labor, and miserable living.  In

truth, the Sybarites, a soft and dissolute people, might very well

imagine they hated life, because in their eager pursuit of virtue and

glory, they were not afraid to die:  but, in fact, the Lacedaemonians

found their virtue secured them happiness alike in living or in dying; as

we see in the epitaph that says:

They died, but not as lavish of their blood,

Or thinking death itself was simply good;

Their wishes neither were to live nor die,

But to do both alike commendably.

An endeavor to avoid death is not blamable, if we do not basely desire to

live; nor a willingness to die good and virtuous, if it proceeds from a

contempt of life.  And therefore Homer always takes care to bring his

bravest and most daring heroes well armed into battle; and the Greek

lawgivers punished those that threw away their shields, but not him that

lost his sword or spear; intimating that self-defense is more a man's

business than offense.  This is especially true of a governor of a city,

or a general; for if, as Iphicrates divides it out, the light-armed are

the hands; the horse the feet; the infantry the breast; and the general

the head; he, when he puts himself upon danger, not only ventures his own

person, but all those whose safety depends on his; and so on the

contrary.  Callicratidas, therefore, though otherwise a great man, was

wrong in his answer to the augur who advised him, the sacrifice being

unlucky, to be careful of his life; "Sparta," said he, "will not miss one

man."  It was true, Callicratidas, when simply serving in any engagement

either at sea or land, was but a single person, but as general, he united

in his life the lives of all, and could hardly be called one, when his

death involved the ruin of so many.  The saying of old Antigonus was

better, who, when he was to fight at Andros, and one told him, "The

enemy's ships are more than ours;" replied, "For how many then wilt thou

reckon me?" intimating that a brave and experienced commander is to be

highly valued, one of the first duties of whose office indeed it is to

save him on whose safety depends that of others.  And therefore I applaud

Timotheus, who, when Chares showed the wounds he had received, and his

shield pierced by a dart, told him, "Yet how ashamed I was, at the siege

of Samos, when a dart fell near me, for exposing myself, more like a boy

than like a general in command of a large army.  "Indeed, where the

general's hazarding himself will go far to decide the result, there he

must fight and venture his person, and not mind their maxims, who would

have a general die, if not of, at least in old age; but when the

advantage will be but small if he gets the better, and the loss

considerable if he falls, who then would desire, at the risk of the

commander's life, a piece of success which a common soldier might obtain?

This I thought fit to premise before the lives of Pelopidas and

Marcellus, who were both great men, but who both fell by their own

rashness.  For, being gallant men, and having gained their respective

countries great glory and reputation by their conduct in war against

terrible enemies, the one, as history relates, overthrowing Hannibal, who

was till then invincible; the other, in a set battle beating the

Lacedaemonians, then supreme both at sea and land; they ventured at last

too far, and were heedlessly prodigal of their lives, when there was the

greatest need of men and commanders such as they.  And this agreement in

their characters and their deaths, is the reason why I compare their

lives.

Pelopidas, the son of Hippoclus, was descended, as likewise Epaminondas

was, from an honorable family in Thebes; and, being brought up to

opulence, and having a fair estate left him whilst he was young, he made

it his business to relieve the good and deserving amongst the poor, that

he might show himself lord and not slave of his estate.  For amongst men,

as Aristotle observes, some are too narrow-minded to use their wealth,

and some are loose and abuse it; and these live perpetual slaves to their

pleasures, as the others to their gain.  Others permitted themselves to

be obliged by Pelopidas, and thankfully made use of his liberality and

kindness; but amongst all his friends, he could never persuade

Epaminondas to be a sharer in his wealth.  He, however, stepped down into

his poverty, and took pleasure in the same poor attire, spare diet,

unwearied endurance of hardships, and unshrinking boldness in war:  like

Capaneus in Euripides, who had

Abundant wealth and in that wealth no pride;

he was ashamed any one should think that he spent more upon his person

than the meanest Theban.  Epaminondas made his familiar and hereditary

poverty more light and easy, by his philosophy and single life; but

Pelopidas married a woman of good family, and had children; yet still

thinking little of his private interests, and devoting all his time to

the public, he ruined his estate:  and, when his friends admonished and

told him how necessary that money which he neglected was; "Yes," he

replied, "necessary to Nicodemus," pointing to a blind cripple.

Both seemed equally fitted by nature for all sorts of excellence; but

bodily exercises chiefly delighted Pelopidas, learning Epaminondas; and

the one spent his spare hours in hunting, and the Palaestra, the other in

hearing lectures or philosophizing.  And, amongst a thousand points for

praise in both, the judicious esteem nothing equal to that constant

benevolence and friendship, which they inviolably preserved in all their

expeditions, public actions, and administration of the commonwealth.  For

if any one looks on the administrations of Aristides and Themistocles, of

Cimon and Pericles, of Nicias and Alcibiades, what confusion, what envy,

what mutual jealousy appears?  And if he then casts his eye on the

kindness and reverence that Pelopidas showed Epaminondas, he must needs

confess, that these are more truly and more justly styled colleagues in

government and command than the others, who strove rather to overcome one

another, than their enemies The true cause of this was their virtue;

whence it came that they did not make their actions aim at wealth and

glory, an endeavor sure to lead to bitter and contentious jealousy; but

both from the beginning being inflamed with a divine desire of seeing

their country glorious by their exertions, they used to that end one

another's excellences as their own.  Many, indeed, think this strict and

entire affection is to be dated from the battle at Mantinea, where they

both fought, being part of the succors that were sent from Thebes to the

Lacedaemonians, their then friends and allies.  For, being placed

together amongst the infantry, and engaging the Arcadians, when the

Lacedaemonian wing, in which they fought, gave ground, and many fled,

they closed their shields together and resisted the assailants.

Pelopidas, having received seven wounds in the forepart of his body, fell

upon a heap of slain friends and enemies; but Epaminondas, though he

thought him past recovery, advanced to defend his arms and body, and

singly fought a multitude, resolving rather to die than forsake his

helpless Pelopidas.  And now, he being much distressed, being wounded in

the breast by a spear, and in the arm by a sword, Agesipolis, the king of

the Spartans, came to his succor from the other wing, and beyond hope

delivered both.

After this the Lacedaemonians pretended to be friends to Thebes, but in

truth looked with jealous suspicions on the designs and power of the

city, and chiefly hated the party of Ismenias and Androclides, in which

Pelopidas also was an associate, as tending to liberty, and the

advancement of the commonalty.  Therefore Archias, Leontidas, and Philip,

all rich men, and of oligarchical principles, and immoderately ambitious,

urged Phoebidas the Spartan, as he was on his way past the city with a

considerable force, to surprise the Cadmea, and, banishing the contrary

faction, to establish an oligarchy, and by that means subject the city to

the supremacy of the Spartans.  He, accepting the proposal, at the

festival of Ceres unexpectedly fell on the Thebans, and made himself

master of the citadel.  Ismenias was taken, carried to Sparta, and in a

short time murdered; but Pelopidas, Pherenicus, Androclides, and many

more that fled were publicly proclaimed outlaws.  Epaminondas stayed at

home, being not much looked after, as one whom philosophy had made

inactive, and poverty incapable.

The Lacedaemonians cashiered Phoebidas, and fined him one hundred

thousand drachmas, yet still kept a garrison in the Cadmea; which made

all Greece wonder at their inconsistency, since they punished the doer,

but approved the deed.  And though the Thebans, having lost their polity,

and being enslaved by Archias and Leontidas, had no hopes to get free

from this tyranny, which they saw guarded by the whole military power of

the Spartans, and had no means to break the yoke, unless these could be

deposed from their command of sea and land; yet Leontidas and his

associates, understanding that the exiles lived at Athens in favor with

the people, and with honor from all the good and virtuous, formed secret

designs against their lives, and, suborning some unknown fellows,

dispatched Androclides, but were not successful on the rest.  Letters,

besides, were sent from Sparta to the Athenians, warning them neither to

receive nor countenance the exiles, but expel them as declared common

enemies of the confederacy.  But the Athenians, from their natural

hereditary inclination to be kind, and also to make a grateful return to

the Thebans, who had very much assisted them in restoring their

democracy, and had publicly enacted, that if any Athenian would march

armed through Boeotia against the tyrants, that no Boeotian should either

see or hear it, did the Thebans no harm.

Pelopidas, though one of the youngest, was active in privately exciting

each single exile; and often told them at their meetings, that it was

both dishonorable and impious to neglect their enslaved and engarrisoned

country, and, lazily contented with their own lives and safety, depend on

the decrees of the Athenians, and through fear fawn on every

smooth-tongued orator that was able to work upon the people:  now they

must venture for this great prize, taking Thrasybulus' bold courage for

example, and as he advanced from Thebes and broke the power of the

Athenian tyrants, so they should march from Athens and free Thebes.  When

by this method he had persuaded them, they privately dispatched some

persons to those friends they had left at Thebes, and acquainted them

with their designs.  Their plans being approved, Charon, a man of the

greatest distinction, offered his house for their reception; Phillidas

contrived to get himself made secretary to Archias and Philip, who then

held the office of polemarch or chief captain; and Epaminondas had

already inflamed the youth.  For, in their exercises, he had encouraged

them to challenge and wrestle with the Spartans, and again, when he saw

them puffed up with victory and success, sharply told them, it was the

greater shame to be such cowards as to serve those whom in strength they

so much excelled.

The day for action being fixed, it was agreed upon by the exiles, that

Pherenicus with the rest should stay in the Thriasian plain, while some

few of the younger men tried the first danger, by endeavoring to get into

the city; and, if they were surprised by their enemies, the others should

take care to provide for their children and parents.  Pelopidas first

offered to undertake the business; then Melon, Damoclides, and

Theopompus, men of noble families, who, in other things loving and

faithful to one another, were constant rivals only in glory and

courageous exploits.  They were twelve in all, and having taken leave of

those that stayed behind, and sent a messenger to Charon, they went

forward, clad in short coats, and carrying hounds and hunting poles with

them, that they might be taken for hunters beating over the fields, and

prevent all suspicion in those that met them on the way.  When the

messenger came to Charon, and told him they were approaching, he did not

change his resolution at the sight of danger, but, being a man of his

word, offered them his house.  But one Hipposthenidas, a man of no ill

principles, a lover of his country, and a friend to the exiles, but not

of as much resolution as the shortness of time and the character of the

action required, being as it were dizzied at the greatness of the

approaching enterprise; and beginning now for the first time to

comprehend that, relying on that weak assistance which could be expected

from the exiles, they were undertaking no less a task than to shake the

government, and overthrow the whole power of Sparta; went privately to

his house, and sent a friend to Melon and Pelopidas, desiring them to

forbear for the present, to return to Athens and expect a better

opportunity.  The messenger's name was Chlidon, who, going home in haste

and bringing out his horse, asked for the bridle; but, his wife not

knowing where it was, and, when it could not be found, telling him she

had lent it to a friend, first they began to chide, then to curse one

another, and his wife wished the journey might prove ill to him, and

those that sent him; insomuch that Chlidon's passion made him waste a

great part of the day in this quarreling, and then, looking on this

chance as an omen, he laid aside all thoughts of his journey, and went

away to some other business.  So nearly had these great and glorious

designs, even in their very birth, lost their opportunity.

But Pelopidas and his companions, dressing themselves like countrymen,

divided, and, whilst it was yet day, entered at different quarters of the

city.  It was, besides, a windy day, and it now just began to snow, which

contributed much to their concealment, because most people were gone in

doors to avoid the weather.  Those, however, that were concerned in the

design, received them as they came, and conducted them to Charon's house,

where the exiles and the others made up forty-eight in number.  The

tyrants' affairs stood thus:  the secretary, Phillidas, as I have already

observed, was an accomplice in, and privy to all the contrivance of the

exiles, and he a while before had invited Archias, with others, to an

entertainment on that day, to drink freely, and meet some women of the

town, on purpose that when they were drunk, and given up to their

pleasures, he might deliver them over to the conspirators.  But before

Archias was thoroughly heated, notice was given him that the exiles were

privately in the town; a true report indeed, but obscure, and not well

confirmed:  nevertheless, though Phillidas endeavored to divert the

discourse, Archias sent one of his guard to Charon, and commanded him to

attend immediately.  It was evening, and Pelopidas and his friends with

him in the house, were putting themselves into a fit posture for action,

having their breastplates on already, and their swords girt:  but at the

sudden knocking at the door, one stepping forth to inquire the matter,

and learning from the officer that Charon was sent for by the polemarchs,

returned in great confusion and acquainted those within; and all

immediately conjectured that the whole plot was discovered, and they

should be cut in pieces, before so much as achieving any action to do

credit to their bravery; yet all agreed that Charon should obey, and

attend the polemarchs, to prevent suspicion.  Charon was, indeed, a man

of courage and resolution in all dangers, yet in this case he was

extremely concerned, lest any should suspect that he was the traitor, and

the death of so many brave citizens be laid on him.  And, therefore, when

he was ready to depart, he brought his son out of the women's

apartment, a little boy as yet, but one of the best looking and strongest

of all those of his age, and delivered him to Pelopidas with these words:

"If you find me a traitor, treat this boy as an enemy without any mercy."

The concern which Charon showed, drew tears from many; but all protested

vehemently against his supposing any one of them so mean-spirited and

base, at the appearance of approaching danger, as to suspect or blame

him; and therefore, desired him not to involve his son, but to set him

out of harm's way; that so he, perhaps, escaping the tyrant's power,

might live to revenge the city and his friends.  Charon, however, refused

to remove him, and asked, "What life, what safety could be more

honorable, than to die bravely with his father, and such generous

companions?"  Thus, imploring the protection of the gods, and saluting

and encouraging them all, he departed, considering with himself, and

composing his voice and countenance, that he might look as little like as

possible to what in fact he really was.

When he was come to the door, Archias with Phillidas came out to him, and

said, "I have heard, Charon, that there are some men just come, and

lurking in the town, and that some of the citizens are resorting to

them."  Charon was at first disturbed, but asking, "Who are they? and who

conceals them?" and finding Archias did not thoroughly understand the

matter, he concluded that none of those privy to the design had given

this information, and replied, "Do not disturb yourselves for an empty

rumor:  I will look into it, however, for no report in such a case is to

be neglected."  Phillidas, who stood by, commended him, and leading back

Archias, got him deep in drink, still prolonging the entertainment with

the hopes of the women's company at last.  But when Charon returned, and

found the men prepared, not as if they hoped for safety and success, but

to die bravely and with the slaughter of their enemies, he told Pelopidas

and his friends the truth, but pretended to others in the house that

Archias talked to him about something else, inventing a story for the

occasion.  This storm was just blowing over, when fortune brought

another; for a messenger came with a letter from one Archias, the

Hierophant at Athens, to his namesake Archias, who was his friend and

guest.  This did not merely contain a vague conjectural suspicion, but,

as appeared afterwards, disclosed every particular of the design.  The

messenger being brought in to Archias, who was now pretty well drunk, and

delivering the letter, said to him, "The writer of this desired it might

be read at once; it is on urgent business."  Archias, with a smile,

replied, "Urgent business tomorrow," and so receiving the letter, he put

it under his pillow, and returned to what he had been speaking of with

Phillidas; and these words of his are a proverb to this day amongst the

Greeks.

Now when the opportunity seemed convenient for action, they set out in

two companies; Pelopidas and Damoclides with their party went against

Leontidas and Hypates, that lived near together; Charon and Melon against

Archias and Philip, having put on women's apparel over their

breastplates, and thick garlands of fir and pine to shade their faces;

and so, as soon as they came to the door, the guests clapped and gave a

huzza, supposing them to be the women they expected.  But when the

conspirators had looked about the room, and carefully marked all that

were at the entertainment, they drew their swords, and making at Archias

and Philip amongst the tables, disclosed who they were.  Phillidas

persuaded some few of his guests to sit still, and those that got up and

endeavored to assist the polemarchs, being drunk were easily dispatched.

But Pelopidas and his party met with a harder task; as they attempted

Leontidas, a sober and formidable man, and when they came to his house

found his doors shut, he being already gone to bed.  They knocked a long

time before any one would answer, but, at last, a servant that heard

them, coming out and unbarring the door, as soon as the gate gave way,

they rushed in, and, overturning the man, made all haste to Leontidas's

chamber.  But Leontidas, guessing at the matter by the noise and running,

leaped from his bed and drew his dagger, but forgot to put out the

lights, and by that means make them fall foul on one another in the dark.

As it was, being easily seen by reason of the light, he received them at

his chamber door, and stabbed Cephisodorus, the first man that entered:

on his falling, the next that he engaged was Pelopidas; and the passage

being narrow and Cephisodorus's body lying in the way, there was a fierce

and dangerous conflict.  At last Pelopidas prevailed, and having killed

Leontidas, he and his companions went in pursuit of Hypates, and after

the same manner broke into his house.  He perceived the design, and fled

to his neighbors; but they closely followed, and caught and killed him.

This done they joined Melon, and sent to hasten the exiles they had left

in Attica:  and called upon the citizens to maintain their liberty, and

taking down the spoils from the porches, and breaking open all the

armorers' shops that were near, equipped those that came to their

assistance.  Epaminondas and Gorgidas came in already armed, with a

gallant train of young men, and the best of the old.  Now the city was in

a great excitement and confusion, a great noise and hurry, lights set up

in every house, men running here and there; however, the people did not

as yet gather into a body, but, amazed at the proceedings, and not

clearly understanding the matter waited for the day.  And, therefore, the

Spartan officers were thought to have been in fault for not falling on at

once, since their garrison consisted of about fifteen hundred men, and

many of the citizens ran to them; but, alarmed with the noise, the fires,

and the confused running of the people, they kept quietly within the

Cadmea.  As soon as day appeared, the exiles from Attica came in armed,

and there was a general assembly of the people.  Epaminondas and Gorgidas

brought forth Pelopidas and his party, encompassed by the priests, who

held out garlands, and exhorted the people to fight for their country and

their gods.  The assembly, at their appearance, rose up in a body, and

with shouts and acclamations received the men as their deliverers and

benefactors.

Then Pelopidas, being chosen chief captain of Boeotia, together with

Melon and Charon, proceeded at once to blockade the citadel, and stormed

it on all sides, being extremely desirous to expel the Lacedaemonians,

and free the Cadmea, before an army could come from Sparta to their

relief.  And he just so narrowly succeeded, that they, having surrendered

on terms and departed, on their way home met Cleombrotus at Megara

marching towards Thebes with a considerable force.  The Spartans

condemned and executed Herippidas and Arcissus, two of their governors

at Thebes, and Lysanoridas the third being severely fined, fled

Peloponnesus.  This action so closely resembling that of Thrasybulus, in

the courage of the actors, the danger, the encounters, and equally

crowned with success, was called the sister of it by the Greeks.  For we

can scarcely find any other examples where so small and weak a party of

men by bold courage overcame such numerous and powerful enemies, or

brought greater blessings to their country by so doing.  But the

subsequent change of affairs made this action the more famous; for the

war which forever ruined the pretensions of Sparta to command, and put an

end to the supremacy she then exercised alike by sea and by land,

proceeded from that night, in which Pelopidas not surprising any fort, or

castle, or citadel, but coming, the twelfth man, to a private house,

loosed and broke, if we may speak truth in metaphor, the chains of the

Spartan sway, which before seemed of adamant and indissoluble.

But now the Lacedaemonians invading Boeotia with a great army, the

Athenians, affrighted at the danger, declared themselves no allies to

Thebes, and prosecuting those that stood for the Boeotian interest,

executed some, and banished and fined others:  and the cause of Thebes,

destitute of allies, seemed in a desperate condition.  But Pelopidas and

Gorgidas, holding the office of captains of Boeotia, designing to breed a

quarrel between the Lacedaemonians and Athenians, made this contrivance.

One Sphodrias, a Spartan, a man famous indeed for courage in battle, but

of no sound judgment, full of ungrounded hopes and foolish ambition, was

left with an army at Thespiae, to receive and succor the Theban

renegades.  To him Pelopidas and his colleagues privately sent a

merchant, one of their friends, with money, and, what proved more

efficient, advice, — that it more became a man of his worth to set upon

some great enterprise, and that he should, making a sudden incursion on

the unprotected Athenians, surprise the Piraeus; since nothing could be

so grateful to Sparta, as to take Athens; and the Thebans, of course,

would not stir to the assistance of men whom they now hated and looked

upon as traitors.  Sphodrias, being at last wrought upon, marched into

Attica by night with his army, and advanced as far as Eleusis; but there

his soldiers' hearts failing, after exposing his project and involving

the Spartans in a dangerous war, he retreated to Thespiae.  After this,

the Athenians zealously sent supplies to Thebes, and putting to sea,

sailed to many places, and offered support and protection to all those of

the Greeks who were willing to revolt.

The Thebans, meantime, singly, having many skirmishes with the Spartans

in Boeotia, and fighting some battles, not great indeed, but important as

training and instructing them, thus had their minds raised, and their

bodies inured to labor, and gained both experience and courage by these

frequent encounters; insomuch that we have it related that Antalcidas,

the Spartan, said to Agesilaus, returning wounded from Boeotia, "Indeed,

the Thebans have paid you handsomely for instructing them in the art of

war, against their wills."  In real truth, however, Agesilaus was not

their master in this, but those that prudently and opportunely, as men do

young dogs, set them on their enemies, and brought them safely off after

they had tasted the sweets of victory and resolution.  Of all those

leaders, Pelopidas deserves the most honor:  as after they had once

chosen him general, he was every year in command as long as he lived;

either captain of the sacred band, or, what was most frequent, chief

captain  of Boeotia.  About Plataea and Thespiae the Spartans were

routed and put to flight, and Phoebidas, that surprised the Cadmea,

slain; and at Tanagra a considerable force was worsted, and the leader

Panthoides killed.  But these encounters, though they raised the victor's

spirits, did not thoroughly dishearten the unsuccessful; for there was no

set battle, or regular fighting, but mere incursions on advantage, in

which, according to occasion, they charged, retired again, or pursued.

But the battle at Tegyrae, which seemed a prelude to Leuctra, won

Pelopidas a great reputation; for none of the other commanders could

claim any hand in the design, nor the enemies any show of victory.  The

city of the Orchomenians siding with the Spartans, and having received

two companies for its guard, he kept a constant eye upon it, and

watched his opportunity.  Hearing that the garrison had moved into

Locris, and hoping to find Orchomenus defenseless, he marched with his

sacred band, and some few horsemen.  But when he approached the city, and

found that a reinforcement of the garrison was on its march from Sparta,

he made a circuit round the foot of the mountains, and retreated with his

little army through Tegyrae, that being the only way he could pass.  For

the river Melas, almost as soon as it rises, spreads itself into marshes

and navigable pools, and makes all the plain between impassable.  A

little below the marshes stands the temple and oracle of Apollo

Tegyraeus, forsaken not long before that time, having flourished till the

Median wars, Echecrates then being priest.  Here they profess that the god

was born; the neighboring mountain is called Delos, and there the river

Melas comes again into a channel; behind the temple rise two springs,

admirable for the sweetness, abundance, and coolness of the streams; one

they call Phoenix, the other Elaea, even to the present time, as if

Lucina had not been delivered between two trees, but fountains.  A place

hard by, called Ptoum, is shown, where they say she was affrighted by the

appearance of a boar; and the stories of the Python and Tityus are in

like manner appropriated by these localities.  I omit many of the points

that are used as arguments.  For our tradition does not rank this god

amongst those that were born, and then made immortal, as Hercules and

Bacchus, whom their virtue raised above a mortal and passable condition;

but Apollo is one of the eternal unbegotten deities, if we may collect

any certainty concerning these things, from the statements of the oldest

and wisest in such subjects.

As Thebans were retreating from Orchomenus towards Tegyrae, the

Spartans, at the same time marching from Locris, met them.  As soon as

they came in view, advancing through the straits, one told Pelopidas, "We

are fallen into our enemy's hands;" he replied, "And why not they into

ours?" and immediately commanded his horse to come up from the rear and

charge, while he himself drew his infantry, being three hundred in

number, into a close body, hoping by that means, at whatsoever point he

made the attack, to break his way through his more numerous enemies.  The

Spartans had two companies, (the company consisting, as Ephorus states,

of five hundred; Callisthenes says seven hundred; others, as Polybius,

nine hundred) and their leaders, Gorgoleon and Theopompus, confident of

success, advanced upon the Thebans.  The charge being made with much

fury, chiefly where the commanders were posted, the Spartan captains that

engaged Pelopidas were first killed; and those immediately around them

suffering severely, the whole army was thus disheartened, and opened a

lane for the Thebans, as if they desired to pass through and escape.  But

when Pelopidas entered, and turning against those that stood their

ground, still went on with a bloody slaughter, an open fight ensued

amongst the Spartans.  The pursuit was carried but a little way, because

they feared the neighboring Orchomenians, and the reinforcement from

Lacedaemon; they had succeeded, however, in fighting a way through their

enemies, and overpowering their whole force; and, therefore, erecting a

trophy, and spoiling the slain, they returned home extremely encouraged

with their achievements.  For in all the great wars there had ever been

against Greeks or barbarians, the Spartans were never before beaten by a

smaller company than their own; nor, indeed, in a set battle, when their

number was equal.  Hence their courage was thought irresistible, and

their high repute before the battle made a conquest already of enemies,

who thought themselves no match for the men of Sparta even on equal

terms.  But this battle first taught the other Greeks, that not only

Eurotas, or the country between Babyce and Cnacion, breeds men of courage

and resolution; but that where the youth are ashamed of baseness, and

ready to venture in a good cause, where they fly disgrace more than

danger, there, wherever it be, are found the bravest and most formidable

opponents.

Gorgidas, according to some, first formed the Sacred Band of three

hundred chosen men, to whom, as being a guard for the citadel, the State

allowed provision, and all things necessary for exercise:  and hence they

were called the city band, as citadels of old were usually called cities.

Others say that it was composed of young men attached to each other by

personal affection, and a pleasant saying of Pammenes is current, that

Homer's Nestor was not well skilled in ordering an army, when he advised

the Greeks to rank tribe and tribe, and family and family together, that

So tribe might tribe, and kinsmen kinsmen aid,

but that he should have joined lovers and their beloved.  For men of the

same tribe or family little value one another when dangers press; but a

band cemented by friendship grounded upon love, is never to be broken,

and invincible; since the lovers, ashamed to be base in sight of their

beloved, and the beloved before their lovers, willingly rush into danger

for the relief of one another.  Nor can that be wondered at; since they

have more regard for their absent lovers than for others present; as in

the instance of the man, who, when his enemy was going to kill him,

earnestly requested him to run him through the breast, that his lover

might not blush to see him wounded in the back.  It is a tradition

likewise, that Iolaus, who assisted Hercules in his labors and fought at

his side, was beloved of him; and Aristotle observes, that even in his

time, lovers plighted their faith at Iolaus's tomb.  It is likely,

therefore, that this band was called sacred on this account; as Plato

calls a lover a divine friend.  It is stated that it was never beaten

till the battle at Chaeronea:  and when Philip, after the fight, took a

view of the slain, and came to the place where the three hundred that

fought his phalanx lay dead together, he wondered, and understanding that

it was the band of lovers, he shed tears and said, "Perish any man who

suspects that these men either did or suffered anything that was base."

It was not the disaster of Laius, as the poets imagine, that first gave

rise to this form of attachment amongst the Thebans, but their

law-givers, designing to soften, whilst they were young, their natural

fierceness, brought, for example, the pipe into great esteem, both in

serious and sportive occasions, and gave great encouragement to these

friendships in the Palaestra, to temper the manners and characters of the

youth.  With a view to this they did well, again, to make Harmony, the

daughter of Mars and Venus, their tutelar deity; since, where force and

courage is joined with gracefulness and winning behavior a harmony ensues

that combines all the elements of society in perfect consonance and

order.  — Gorgidas distributed this Sacred Band all through the front

ranks of the infantry and thus made their gallantry less conspicuous; not

being united in one body, but mingled with so many others of inferior

resolution, they had no fair opportunity of showing what they could do.

But Pelopidas, having sufficiently tried their bravery at Tegyrae, where

they had fought alone, and around his own person, never afterward

divided them, but keeping them entire, and as one man, gave them the

first duty in the greatest battles.  For as horses run brisker in a

chariot than singly, not that their joint force divides the air with

greater ease, but because being matched one against the other, emulation

kindles and inflames their courage; thus he thought, brave men, provoking

one another to noble actions, would prove most serviceable and most

resolute, where all were united together.

Now when the Lacedaemonians had made peace with the other Greeks, and

united all their strength against the Thebans only, and their king,

Cleombrotus, had passed the frontier with ten thousand foot and one

thousand horse, and not only subjection, as heretofore, but total

dispersion and annihilation threatened, and Boeotia was in a greater fear

than ever, — Pelopidas, leaving his house, when his wife followed him on

his way, and with tears begged him to be careful of his life, made

answer, "Private men, my wife, should be advised to look to themselves,

generals to save others."  And when he came to the camp, and found the

chief captains disagreeing, he, first, joined the side of Epaminondas,

who advised to fight the enemy; though Pelopidas himself was not then in

office as chief captain of Boeotia, but in command of the Sacred Band,

and trusted as it was fit a man should be, who had given his country such

proofs of his zeal for its freedom.  And so, when a battle was agreed on,

and they encamped in front of the Spartans at Leuctra, Pelopidas saw a

vision, which much discomposed him.  In that plain lie the bodies of the

daughters of one Scedasus, called from the place Leuctridae, having been

buried there, after having been ravished by some Spartan strangers.  When

this base and lawless deed was done, and their father could get no

satisfaction at Lacedaemon, with bitter imprecations on the Spartans, he

killed himself at his daughters' tombs:  and, from that time, the

prophecies and oracles still warned them to have a great care of the

divine vengeance at Leuctra.  Many, however, did not understand the

meaning, being uncertain about the place, because there was a little

maritime town of Laconia called Leuctron, and near Megalopolis in Arcadia

a place of the same name; and the villainy was committed long before this

battle.

Now Pelopidas, being asleep in the camp, thought he saw the maidens

weeping about their tombs, and cursing the Spartans, and Scedasus

commanding, if they desired the victory, to sacrifice a virgin with

chestnut hair to his daughters.  Pelopidas looked on this as an harsh and

impious injunction, but rose and told it to the prophets and commanders

of the army, some of whom contended, that it was fit to obey, and adduced

as examples from the ancients, Menoeceus, son of Creon; Macaria, daughter

of Hercules; and from later times, Pherecydes the philosopher, slain by

the Lacedaemonians, and his skin, as the oracles advised, still kept by

their kings.  Leonidas, again, warned by the oracle, did as it were

sacrifice himself for the good of Greece; Themistocles offered human

victims to Bacchus Omestes, before the engagement at Salamis; and success

showed their actions to be good.  On the contrary, Agesilaus going from

the same place, and against the same enemies that Agamemnon did, and,

being commanded in a dream at Aulis to sacrifice his daughter, was so

weak as to disobey; the consequence of which was, that his expedition was

unsuccessful and inglorious.  But some on the other side urged, that such

a barbarous and impious oblation could not be pleasing to any Superior

Beings:  that typhons and giants did not preside over the world, but the

general father of gods and men; that it was absurd to imagine any

divinities or powers delighted in slaughter and sacrifices of men; or, if

there were an, such, they were to be neglected, as weak and unable to

assist; such unreasonable and cruel desires could only proceed from, and

live in weak and depraved minds.

The commanders thus disputing, and Pelopidas being in a great perplexity,

a mare colt, breaking from the herd, ran through the camp, and when she

came to the place where they were, stood still; and whilst some admired

her bright chestnut color, others her mettle, or the strength and fury of

her neighing, Theocritus, the augur, took thought, and cried out to

Pelopidas, "O good friend! look, the sacrifice is come; expect no other

virgin, but use that which the gods have sent thee."  With that they took

the colt, and, leading her to the maidens' sepulchres, with the usual

solemnity and prayers, offered her with joy, and spread through the whole

army the account of Pelopidas's dream, and how they had given the

required sacrifice.

In the battle, Epaminondas, bending his phalanx to the left, that, as

much as possible, he might divide the right wing, composed of Spartans,

from the other Greeks, and distress Cleombrotus, by a fierce charge in

column on that wing, the enemies perceived the design, and began to

change their order, to open and extend their right wing, and, as they far

exceeded him in number, to encompass Epaminondas.  But Pelopidas with the

three hundred came rapidly up, before Cleombrotus could extend his line,

and close up his divisions, and so fell upon the Spartans while in

disorder; though the Lacedaemonians, the expertest and most practiced

soldiers of all mankind, used to train and accustom themselves to nothing

so much as to keep themselves from confusion upon any change of position,

and to follow any leader, or right hand man, and form in order, and fight

on what part soever dangers press.  In this battle, however, Epaminondas

with his phalanx, neglecting the other Greeks, and charging them alone,

and Pelopidas coming up with such incredible speed and fury, so broke

their courage, and baffled their art, that there began such a flight and

slaughter amongst the Spartans, as was never before known.  And so

Pelopidas, though in no high office, but only captain of a small band,

got as much reputation by the victory, as Epaminondas, who was general

and chief captain of Boeotia.

Into Peloponnesus, however, they both advanced together as colleagues in

supreme command, and gained the greater part of the nations there from

the Spartan confederacy; Elis, Argo, all Arcadia, and much of Laconia

itself.  It was the dead of winter, and but few of the last days of the

month remained, and, in the beginning of the next, new officers were to

succeed, and whoever failed to deliver up his charge, forfeited his head.

Therefore, the other chief captains fearing the law, and to avoid the

sharpness of the winter, advised a retreat.  But Pelopidas joined with

Epaminondas, and, encouraging his countrymen, led them against Sparta,

and, passing the Eurotas, took many of the towns, and wasted the country

as far as the sea.  This army consisted of seventy thousand Greeks, of

which number the Thebans could not make the twelfth part; but the

reputation of the men made all their allies contented to follow them as

leaders, though no articles to that effect had been made.  For, indeed,

it seems the first and paramount law, that he that wants a defender, is

naturally a subject to him that is able to defend:  as mariners, though

in a calm or in the port they grow insolent, and brave the pilot, yet

when a storm comes, and danger is at hand, they all attend, and put their

hopes in him.  So the Argives, Eleans, and Arcadians, in their

congresses, would contend with the Thebans for superiority in command,

yet in a battle, or any hazardous undertaking, of their own will followed

their Theban captains.  In this expedition, they united all Arcadia into

one body, and, expelling the Spartans that inhabited Messenia, they

called back the old Messenians, and established them in Ithome in one

body; — and, returning through Cenchreae, they dispersed the Athenians, who

designed to set upon them in the straits, and hinder their march.

For these exploits, all the other Greeks loved their courage, and admired

their success; but among their own citizens, envy, still increasing with

their glory, prepared them no pleasing nor agreeable reception.  Both

were tried for their lives, because they did not deliver up their command

in the first month, Bucatius, as the law required, but kept it four

months longer, in which time they did these memorable actions in

Messenia, Arcadia, and Laconia.  Pelopidas was first tried, and therefore

in greatest danger, but both were acquitted.  Epaminondas bore the

accusation and trial very patiently, esteeming it a great and essential

part of courage and generosity, not to resent injuries in political life.

But Pelopidas, being a man of a fiercer temper, and stirred on by his

friends to revenge the affront, took the following occasion.  Meneclidas,

the orator, was one of those that had met with Melon and Pelopidas at

Charon's house; but not receiving equal honor, and being powerful in his

speech, but loose in his manners, and ill-natured, he abused his natural

endowments, even after this trial, to accuse and calumniate his betters.

He excluded Epaminondas from the chief captaincy, and for a long time

kept the upper hand of him; but he was not powerful enough to bring

Pelopidas out of the people's favor, and therefore endeavored to raise a

quarrel between him and Charon.  And since it is some comfort to the

envious, to make those men, whom themselves cannot excel, appear worse

than others, he studiously enlarged upon Charon's actions in his speeches

to the people, and made panegyrics on his expeditions and victories; and,

of the victory which the horsemen won at Plataea, before the battle at

Leuctra, under Charon's command, he endeavored to make the following

sacred memorial.  Androcydes, the Cyzicenian, had undertaken to paint a

previous battle for the city, and was at work in Thebes; and when the

revolt began, and the war came on, the Thebans kept the picture that was

then almost finished.  This picture Meneclidas persuaded them to

dedicate, inscribed with Charon's name, designing by that means to

obscure the glory of Epaminondas and Pelopidas.  This was a ludicrous

piece of pretension; to set a single victory, where only one Gerandas, an

obscure Spartan, and forty more were slain, above such numerous and

important battles.  This motion Pelopidas opposed, as contrary to law,

alleging that it was not the custom of the Thebans to honor any single

man, but to attribute the victory to their country; yet in all the

contest, he extremely commended Charon, and confined himself to showing

Meneclidas to be a troublesome and envious fellow, asking the Thebans, if

they had done nothing that was excellent, .... insomuch that

Meneclidas was severely fined; and he, being unable to pay, endeavored

afterwards to disturb the government.  These things give us some light

into Pelopidas's life.

Now when Alexander, the tyrant of Pherae, made open war against some of

the Thessalians, and had designs against all, the cities sent an embassy

to Thebes, to desire succors and a general; and Pelopidas, knowing that

Epaminondas was detained by the Peloponnesian affairs, offered himself to

lead the Thessalians, being unwilling to let his courage and skill lie

idle, and thinking it unfit that Epaminondas should be withdrawn from his

present duties.  When he came into Thessaly with his army, he presently

took Larissa, and endeavored to reclaim Alexander, who submitted, and

bring him, from being a tyrant, to govern gently, and according to law;

but finding him untractable and brutish, and hearing great complaints of

his lust and cruelty, Pelopidas began to be severe, and used him roughly,

insomuch that the tyrant stole away privately with his guard.  But

Pelopidas, leaving the Thessalians fearless of the tyrant, and friends

amongst themselves, marched into Macedonia, where Ptolemy was then at war

with Alexander, the king of Macedon; both parties having sent for him to

hear and determine their differences, and assist the one that appeared

injured.  When he came, he reconciled them, called back the exiles, and,

receiving for hostages Philip the king's brother, and thirty children of

the nobles, he brought them to Thebes; showing the other Greeks how wide

a reputation the Thebans had gained for honesty and courage.  This was

that Philip who afterward endeavored to enslave the Greeks:  then he was

a boy, and lived with Pammenes in Thebes; and hence some conjecture, that

he took Epaminondas's actions for the rule of his own; and perhaps,

indeed, he did take example from his activity and skill in war, which,

however, was but a small portion of his virtues; of his temperance,

justice, generosity, and mildness, in which he was truly great, Philip

enjoyed no share, either by nature or imitation.

After this, upon a second complaint of the Thessalians against Alexander

of Pherae, as a disturber of the cities, Pelopidas was joined with

Ismenias, in an embassy to him; but led no forces from Thebes, not

expecting any war, and therefore was necessitated to make use of the

Thessalians upon the emergency.  At the same time, also, Macedon was in

confusion again, as Ptolemy had murdered the king, and seized the

government:  but the king's friends sent for Pelopidas, and he, being

willing to interpose in the matter, but having no soldiers of his own,

enlisted some mercenaries in the country, and with them marched against

Ptolemy.  When they faced one another, Ptolemy corrupted these

mercenaries with a sum of money, and persuaded them to revolt to him; but

yet, fearing the very name and reputation of Pelopidas, he came to him as

his superior, submitted, begged his pardon, and protested that he kept

the government only for the brothers of the dead king, and would prove a

friend to the friends, and an enemy to the enemies of Thebes; and, to

confirm this, he gave his son, Philoxenus, and fifty of his companions,

for hostages.  These Pelopidas sent to Thebes; but he himself, being

vexed at the treachery of the mercenaries, and understanding that most of

their goods, their wives and children, lay at Pharsalus, so that if he

could take them, the injury would be sufficiently revenged, got together

some of the Thessalians, and marched to Pharsalus.  When he had just

entered the city, Alexander, the tyrant, appeared before it with an army;

but Pelopidas and his friends, thinking that he came to clear himself

from those crimes that were laid to his charge, went to him; and though

they knew very well that he was profligate and cruel, yet they imagined

that the authority of Thebes, and their own dignity and reputation, would

secure them from violence.  But the tyrant, seeing them come unarmed and

alone, seized them, and made himself master of Pharsalus.  Upon this his

subjects were much intimidated, thinking that after so great and so bold

an iniquity, he would spare none, but behave himself toward all, and in

all matters, as one despairing of his life.  The Thebans, when they heard

of this, were very much enraged, and dispatched an army, Epaminondas

being then in disgrace, under the command of other leaders.  When the

tyrant brought Pelopidas to Pherae, at first he permitted those that

desired it to speak with him, imagining that this disaster would break

his spirit, and make him appear contemptible.  But when Pelopidas advised

the complaining Pheraeans to be comforted, as if the tyrant was now

certain in a short time to smart for his injuries, and sent to tell him,

"That it was absurd daily to torment and murder his wretched innocent

subjects, and yet spare him, who, he well knew, if ever he got his

liberty, would be bitterly revenged;" the tyrant, wondering at his

boldness and freedom of speech, replied, "And why is Pelopidas in haste

to die?"  He, hearing of it, rejoined, "That you may be the sooner

ruined, being then more hated by the gods than now."  From that time he

forbade any to converse with him; but Thebe, the daughter of Jason and

wife to Alexander, hearing from the keepers of the bravery and noble

behavior of Pelopidas, had a great desire to see and speak with him.  Now

when she came into the prison, and, as a woman, could not at once discern

his greatness in his calamity, only, judging by the meanness of his

attire and general appearance, that he was used basely and not befitting

a man of his reputation, she wept.  Pelopidas, at first not knowing who

she was, stood amazed; but when he understood, saluted her by her

father's name — Jason and he having been friends and familiars — and

she saying, "I pity your wife, Sir," he replied, "And I you, that though

not in chains, can endure Alexander."  This touched the woman, who

already hated Alexander for his cruelty and injustice, for his general

debaucheries, and for his abuse of her youngest brother.  She, therefore,

often went to Pelopidas, and, speaking freely of the indignities she

suffered, grew more enraged, and more exasperated against Alexander.

The Theban generals that were sent into Thessaly did nothing, but, being

either unskillful or unfortunate, made a dishonorable retreat, for which

the city fined each of them ten thousand drachmas, and sent Epaminondas

with their forces.  The Thessalians, inspirited by the fame of this

general, at once began to stir, and the tyrant's affairs were at the

verge of destruction; so great was the fear that possessed his captains

and his friends, and so eager the desire of his subjects to revolt, in

hope of his speedy punishment.  But Epaminondas, more solicitous for the

safety of Pelopidas than his own glory, and fearing that if things came

to extremity, Alexander would grow desperate, and, like a wild beast,

turn and worry him, did not prosecute the war to the utmost; but,

hovering still over him with his army, he so handled the tyrant as not to

leave him any confidence, and yet not to drive him to despair and fury.

He was aware of his savageness, and the little value he had for right and

justice, insomuch that sometimes he buried men alive, and sometimes

dressed them in bear's and boar's skins, and then baited them with dogs,

or shot at them for his divertisement.  At Meliboea and Scotussa, two

cities, his allies, he called all the inhabitants to an assembly, and

then surrounded them and cut them to pieces with his guards.  He

consecrated the spear with which he killed his uncle Polyphron, and,

crowning it with garlands, sacrificed to it as a god, and called it

Tychon.  And once seeing a tragedian act Euripides's Troades, he left the

theater; but sending for the actor, bade him not to be concerned at his

departure, but act as he had been used to do, as it was not in contempt

of him that he departed, but because he was ashamed that his citizens

should see him, who never pitied any man that he murdered, weep at the

sufferings of Hecuba and Andromache.  This tyrant, however, alarmed at

the very name, report, and appearance of an expedition under the conduct

of Epaminondas, presently

Dropped like a craven cock his conquered wing,

and sent an embassy to entreat and offer satisfaction.  Epaminondas

refused to admit such a man as an ally to the Thebans, but granted him a

truce of thirty days, and, Pelopidas and Ismenias being delivered up,

returned home.

Now the Thebans, understanding that the Spartans and Athenians had sent

an embassy to the Persians for assistance, themselves, likewise, sent

Pelopidas; an excellent design to increase his glory, no man having ever

before passed through the dominions of the king with greater fame and

reputation.  For the glory that he won against the Spartans, did not

creep slowly or obscurely; but, after the fame of the first battle at

Leuctra was gone abroad, the report of new victories continually

following, exceedingly increased, and spread his celebrity far and near.

Whatever satraps or generals or commanders he met, he was the object of

their wonder and discourse; "This is the man," they said, "who hath

beaten the Lacedaemonians from sea and land, and confined that Sparta

within Taygetus and Eurotas, which, but a little before, under the

conduct of Agesilaus, was entering upon a war with the great king about

Susa and Ecbatana."  This pleased Artaxerxes, and he was the more

inclined to show Pelopidas attention and honor, being desirous to seem

reverenced, and attended by the greatest.  But when he saw him and heard

his discourse, more solid than the Athenians, and not so haughty as the

Spartans, his regard was heightened, and, truly acting like a king, he

openly showed the respect that he felt for him; and this the other

ambassadors perceived.  Of all other Greeks he had been thought to have

done Antalcidas, the Spartan, the greatest honor, by sending him that

garland dipped in an unguent, which he himself had worn at an

entertainment.  Indeed, he did not deal so delicately with Pelopidas,

but, according to the custom, gave him the most splendid and considerable

presents, and granted him his desires, that the Grecians should be free,

Messenia inhabited, and the Thebans accounted the king's hereditary

friends.  With these answers, but not accepting one of the presents,

except what was a pledge of kindness and good-will, he returned.  This

behavior of Pelopidas ruined the other ambassadors:  the Athenians

condemned and executed their Timagoras, and, indeed, if they did it for

receiving so many presents from the king, their sentence was just and

good; as he not only took gold and silver, but a rich bed, and slaves to

make it, as if the Greeks were unskillful in that art; besides eighty

cows and herdsmen, professing he needed cow's milk for some distemper;

and, lastly, he was carried in a litter to the seaside, with a present of

four talents for his attendants.  But the Athenians, perhaps, were not so

much irritated at his greediness for the presents.  For Epicrates the

baggage-carrier not only confessed to the people that he had received

gifts from the king, but made a motion, that instead of nine archons,

they should yearly choose nine poor citizens to be sent ambassadors to

the king, and enriched by his presents, and the people only laughed at

the joke.  But they were vexed that the Thebans obtained their desires,

never considering that Pelopidas's fame was more powerful than all their

rhetorical discourse, with a man who still inclined to the victorious in

arms.  This embassy, having obtained the restitution of Messenia, and the

freedom of the other Greeks, got Pelopidas a great deal of good-will at

his return.

At this time, Alexander the Pheraean falling back to his old nature, and

having seized many of the Thessalian cities, and put garrisons upon the

Achaeans of Phthiotis, and the Magnesians, the cities, hearing that

Pelopidas was returned, sent an embassy to Thebes, requesting succors,

and him for their leader.  The Thebans willingly granted their desire;

and now when all things were prepared, and the general beginning to

march, the sun was eclipsed, and darkness spread over the city at

noonday.  Now when Pelopidas saw them startled at the prodigy, he did not

think it fit to force on men who were afraid and out of heart, nor to

hazard seven thousand of his citizens; and therefore with only three

hundred horse volunteers, set forward himself to Thessaly, much against

the will of the augurs and his fellow-citizens in general, who all

imagined this marked portent to have reference to this great man.  But he

was heated against Alexander for the injuries he had received, and hoped

likewise, from the discourse which formerly he had with Thebe, that his

family by this time was divided and in disorder.  But the glory of the

expedition chiefly excited him; for he was extremely desirous at this

time, when the Lacedaemonians were sending out military officers to

assist Dionysius the Sicilian tyrant, and the Athenians took Alexander's

pay, and honored him with a brazen statue as a benefactor, that the

Thebans should be seen, alone, of all the Greeks, undertaking the cause

of those who were oppressed by tyrants, and destroying the violent and

illegal forms of government in Greece.

When Pelopidas was come to Pharsalus, he formed an army, and presently

marched against Alexander; and Alexander understanding that Pelopidas had

few Thebans with him, and that his own infantry was double the number of

the Thessalians, faced him at Thetidium.  Some one told Pelopidas, "The

tyrant meets us with a great army;" "So much the better," he replied,

"for then we shall overcome the more."  Between the two armies lay some

steep high hills about Cynoscephalae, which both parties endeavored to

take by their foot.  Pelopidas commanded his horse, which were good and

many, to charge that of the enemies; they routed and pursued them through

the plain.  But Alexander, meantime, took the hills, and charging the

Thessalian foot that came up later, and strove to climb the steep and

craggy ascent, killed the foremost, and the others, much distressed,

could do the enemies no harm.  Pelopidas, observing this, sounded a

retreat to his horse, and gave orders that they should charge the enemies

that kept their ground; and he himself, taking his shield, quickly

joined those that fought about the hills, and, advancing to the front,

filled his men with such courage and alacrity, that the enemies imagined

they came with other spirits and other bodies to the onset.  They stood

two or three charges, but finding these come on stoutly, and the horse,

also, returning from the pursuit, gave ground, and retreated in order.

Pelopidas now perceiving, from the rising ground, that the enemy's army

was, though not yet routed, full of disorder and confusion, stood and

looked about for Alexander; and when he saw him in the right wing,

encouraging and ordering his mercenaries, he could not moderate his

anger, but inflamed at the sight, and blindly following his passion,

regardless alike of his own life and his command, advanced far before his

soldiers, crying out and challenging the tyrant who did not dare to

receive him, but retreating, hid himself amongst his guard.  The foremost

of the mercenaries that came hand to hand were driven back by Pelopidas,

and some killed; but many at a distance shot through his armor and

wounded him, till the Thessalians, in anxiety for the result, ran down

from the hill to his relief, but found him already slain.  The horse came

up, also, and routed the phalanx, and, following the pursuit a great way,

filled the whole country with the slain, which were above three thousand.

No one can wonder that the Thebans then present, should show great grief

at the death of Pelopidas, calling him their father, deliverer, and

instructor in all that was good and commendable.  But the Thessalians and

the allies out-doing in their public edicts all the just honors that

could be paid to human courage, gave, in their display of feeling, yet

stronger demonstrations of the kindness they had for him.  It is stated,

that none of the soldiers, when they heard of his death, would put off

their armor, unbridle their horses, or dress their wounds, but, still hot

and with their arms on, ran to the corpse, and, as if he had been yet

alive and could see what they did, heaped up spoils about his body.  They

cut off their horses' manes and their own hair, many kindled no fire in

their tents, took no supper, and silence and sadness was spread over all

the army; as if they had not gained the greatest and most glorious

victory, but were overcome by the tyrant, and enslaved.  As soon as it

was known in the cities, the magistrates, youths, children, and priests,

came out to meet the body, and brought trophies, crowns, and suits of

golden armor; and, when he was to be interred, the elders of the

Thessalians came and begged the Thebans, that they might give the

funeral; and one of them said, "Friends, we ask a favor of you, that will

prove both an honor and comfort to us in this our great misfortune.  The

Thessalians shall never again wait on the living Pelopidas, never give

honors, of which he can be sensible, but if we may have his body, adorn

his funeral, and inter him, we shall hope to show that we esteem his

death a greater loss to the Thessalians than to the Thebans.  You have

lost only a good general, we both a general and our liberty.  For how

shall we dare to desire from you another captain, since we cannot restore

Pelopidas?"

The Thebans granted their request, and there was never a more splendid

funeral in the opinion of those, who do not think the glory of such

solemnities consists only in gold, ivory, and purple; as Philistus did,

who extravagantly celebrates the funeral of Dionysius, in which his

tyranny concluded like the pompous exit of some great tragedy.  Alexander

the Great, at the death of Hephaestion, not only cut off the manes of his

horses and his mules, but took down the battlements from the city walls,

that even the towns might seem mourners, and, instead of their former

beauteous appearance, look bald at his funeral.  But such honors, being

commanded and forced from the mourners, attended with feelings of

jealousy towards those who received them, and of hatred towards those who

exacted them, were no testimonies of love and respect, but of the

barbaric pride, luxury, and insolence of those who lavished their wealth

in these vain and undesirable displays.  But that a man of common rank,

dying in a strange country, neither his wife, children, nor kinsmen

present, none either asking or compelling it, should be attended, buried,

and crowned by so many cities that strove to exceed one another in the

demonstrations of their love, seems to be the sum and completion of happy

fortune.  For the death of happy men is not, as Aesop observes, most

grievous, but most blessed, since it secures their felicity, and puts it

out of fortune's power.  And that Spartan advised well, who, embracing

Diagoras, that had himself been crowned in the Olympic Games, and saw his

sons and grandchildren victors, said, "Die, Diagoras, for thou canst not

be a god."  And yet who would compare all the victories in the Pythian

and Olympian Games put together, with one of those enterprises of

Pelopidas, of which he successfully performed so many?  Having spent his

life in brave and glorious actions, he died at last in the chief command,

for the thirteenth time, of the Boeotians, fighting bravely and in the

act of slaying a tyrant, in defense of the liberty of the Thessalians.

His death, as it brought grief, so likewise it produced advantage to the

allies; for the Thebans, as soon as they heard of his fall, delayed not

their revenge, but presently sent seven thousand foot and seven hundred

horse, under the command of Malcitas and Diogiton.  And they, finding

Alexander weak and without forces, compelled him to restore the cities he

had taken, to withdraw his garrisons from the Magnesians and Achaeans of

Phthiotis, and swear to assist the Thebans against whatsoever enemies

they should require.  This contented the Thebans, but punishment overtook

the tyrant for his wickedness, and the death of Pelopidas was revenged by

Heaven in the following manner.  Pelopidas, as I have already mentioned,

had taught his wife Thebe not to fear the outward splendor and show of

the tyrant's defenses, since she was admitted within them.  She, of

herself, too, dreaded his inconstancy, and hated his cruelty; and,

therefore, conspiring with her three brothers, Tisiphonus, Pytholaus, and

Lycophron, made the following attempt upon him.  All the other apartments

were full of the tyrant's night guards, but their bed-chamber was an

upper room, and before the door lay a chained dog to guard it, which

would fly at all but the tyrant and his wife and one servant that fed

him.  When Thebe, therefore, designed to kill her husband, she hid her

brothers all day in a room hard by, and she, going in alone, according to

her usual custom, to Alexander who was asleep already, in a little time

came out again, and commanded the servant to lead away the dog, for

Alexander wished to rest quietly.  She covered the stairs with wool, that

the young men might make no noise as they came up; and then, bringing up

her brothers with their weapons, and leaving them at the chamber door,

she went in, and brought away the tyrant's sword that hung over his head

and showed it them for a confirmation that he was fast asleep.  The young

men appearing fearful, and unwilling to do the murder, she chid them, and

angrily vowed she would wake Alexander, and discover the conspiracy; and

so, with a lamp in her hand, she conducted them in, they being both

ashamed and afraid, and brought them to the bed; when one of them caught

him by the feet, the other pulled him backward by the hair, and the third

ran him through.  The death was more speedy, perhaps, than was fit; but,

in that he was the first tyrant that was killed by the contrivance of his

wife, and as his corpse was abused, thrown out, and trodden under foot by

the Pheraeans, he seems to have suffered what his villainies deserved.

MARCELLUS

They say that Marcus Claudius, who was five times consul of the Romans,

was the son of Marcus; and that he was the first of his family called

Marcellus; that is, martial, as Posidonius affirms.  He was, indeed, by

long experience skillful in the art of war, of a strong body, valiant of

hand, and by natural inclination addicted to war.  This high temper and

heat he showed conspicuously in battle; in other respects he was modest

and obliging, and so far studious of Greek learning and discipline, as to

honor and admire those that excelled in it, though he did not himself

attain a proficiency in them equal to his desire, by reason of his

employments.  For if ever there were any men, whom, as Homer says,

Heaven,

From their first youth unto their utmost age

Appointed the laborious wars to wage,

certainly they were the chief Romans of that time; who in their youth had

war with the Carthaginians in Sicily, in their middle age with the Gauls

in the defense of Italy itself; and, at last, when now grown old,

struggled again with Hannibal and the Carthaginians, and wanted in their

latest years what is granted to most men, exemption from military toils;

their rank and their great qualities still making them be called upon to

undertake the command.

Marcellus, ignorant or unskillful of no kind of fighting, in single

combat surpassed himself; he never declined a challenge, and never

accepted without killing his challenger.  In Sicily, he protected and

saved his brother Otacilius when surrounded in battle, and slew the

enemies that pressed upon him; for which act he was by the generals,

while he was yet but young, presented with crowns and other honorable

rewards; and, his good qualities more and more displaying themselves, he

was created Curule Aedile by the people, and by the high-priests Augur;

which is that priesthood to which chiefly the law assigns the observation

of auguries.  In his aedileship, a certain mischance brought him to the

necessity of bringing an impeachment into the senate.  He had a son named

Marcus, of great beauty, in the flower of his age, and no less admired

for the goodness of his character.  This youth, Capitolinus, a bold and

ill-mannered man, Marcellus's colleague, sought to abuse.  The boy at

first himself repelled him; but when the other again persecuted him, told

his father.  Marcellus, highly indignant, accused the man in the senate,

where he, having appealed to the tribunes of the people, endeavored by

various shifts and exceptions to elude the impeachment; and, when the

tribunes refused their protection, by flat denial rejected the charge.

As there was no witness of the fact, the senate thought fit to call the

youth himself before them; on witnessing whose blushes and tears, and

shame mixed with the highest indignation, seeking no further evidence of

the crime, they condemned Capitolinus, and set a fine upon him; of the

money of which, Marcellus caused silver vessels for libation to be made,

which he dedicated to the gods.

After the end of the first Punic war, which lasted one and twenty years,

the seeds of Gallic tumults sprang up, and began again to trouble Rome.

The Insubrians, a people inhabiting the subalpine region of Italy, strong

in their own forces, raised from among the other Gauls aids of mercenary

soldiers, called Gaesatae.  And it was a sort of miracle, and special

good fortune for Rome, that the Gallic war was not coincident with the

Punic, but that the Gauls had with fidelity stood quiet as spectators,

while the Punic war continued, as though they had been under engagements

to await and attack the victors, and now only were at liberty to come

forward.  Still the position itself, and the ancient renown of the Gauls,

struck no little fear into the minds of the Romans, who were about to

undertake a war so near home and upon their own borders; and regarded the

Gauls, because they had once taken their city, with more apprehension

than any people, as is apparent from the enactment which from that time

forth provided, that the high-priests should enjoy an exemption from all

military duty, except only in Gallic insurrections.

The great preparations, also, made by the Romans for war, (for it is not

reported that the people of Rome ever had at one time so many legions in

arms, either before or since,) and their extraordinary sacrifices, were

plain arguments of their fear.  For though they were most averse to

barbarous and cruel rites, and entertained more than any nation the same

pious and reverent sentiments of the gods with the Greeks; yet, when this

war was coming upon them, they then, from some prophecies in the Sibyls'

books, put alive under ground a pair of Greeks, one male, the other

female; and likewise two Gauls, one of each sex, in the market called the

beast-market:  continuing even to this day to offer to these Greeks and

Gauls certain secret ceremonial observances in the month of November.

In the beginning of this war, in which the Romans sometimes obtained

remarkable victories, sometimes were shamefully beaten, nothing was done

toward the determination of the contest, until Flaminius and Furius,

being consuls, led large forces against the Insubrians.  At the time of

their departure, the river that runs through the country of Picenum was

seen flowing with blood; there was a report, that three moons had been

seen at once at Ariminum; and, in the consular assembly, the augurs

declared, that the consuls had been unduly and inauspiciously created.

The senate, therefore, immediately sent letters to the camp, recalling

the consuls to Rome with all possible speed, and commanding them to

forbear from acting against the enemies, and to abdicate the consulship

on the first opportunity.  These letters being brought to Flaminius, he

deferred to open them till, having defeated and put to flight the enemy's

forces, he wasted and ravaged their borders.  The people, therefore, did

not go forth to meet him when he returned with huge spoils; nay, because

he had not instantly obeyed the command in the letters, by which he was

recalled, but slighted and contemned them, they were very near denying

him the honor of a triumph.  Nor was the triumph sooner passed than they

deposed him, with his colleague, from the magistracy, and reduced them to

the state of private citizens.  So much were all things at Rome made to

depend upon religion; they would not allow any contempt of the omens and

the ancient rites, even though attended with the highest success;

thinking it to be of more importance to the public safety, that the

magistrates should reverence the gods, than that they should overcome

their enemies.  Thus Tiberius Sempronius, whom for his probity and virtue

the citizens highly esteemed, created Scipio Nasica and Caius Marcius,

consuls to succeed him:  and when they were gone into their provinces,

lit upon books concerning the religious observances, where he found

something he had not known before; which was this.  When the consul took

his auspices, he sat without the city in a house, or tent, hired for that

occasion; but, if it happened that he, for any urgent cause, returned

into the city, without having yet seen any certain signs, he was obliged

to leave that first building, or tent, and to seek another to repeat the

survey from.  Tiberius, it appears, in ignorance of this, had twice used

the same building before announcing the new consuls.  Now, understanding

his error, he referred the matter to the senate:  nor did the senate

neglect this minute fault, but soon wrote expressly of it to Scipio

Nasica and Caius Marcius; who, leaving their provinces and without delay

returning to Rome, laid down their magistracy.  This happened at a later

period.  About the same time, too, the priesthood was taken away from two

men of very great honor, Cornelius Cethegus and Quintus Sulpicius:  from

the former, because he had not rightly held out the entrails of a beast

slain for sacrifice; from the latter, because, while he was immolating,

the tufted cap which the Flamens wear had fallen from his head.

Minucius, the dictator, who had already named Caius Flaminius master of

the horse, they deposed from his command, because the squeak of a mouse

was heard, and put others into their places.  And yet, notwithstanding,

by observing so anxiously these little niceties they did not run into any

superstition, because they never varied from nor exceeded the observances

of their ancestors.

So soon as Flaminius with his colleague had resigned the consulate,

Marcellus was declared consul by the presiding officers called

Interrexes; and, entering into the magistracy, chose Cnaeus Cornelius his

colleague.  There was a report that, the Gauls proposing a pacification,

and the senate also inclining to peace, Marcellus inflamed the people to

war; but a peace appears to have been agreed upon, which the Gaesatae

broke; who, passing the Alps, stirred up the Insubrians, (they being

thirty thousand in number, and the Insubrians more numerous by far) and,

proud of their strength, marched directly to Acerrae, a city seated on

the north of the river Po.  From thence Britomartus, king of the

Gaesatae, taking with him ten thousand soldiers, harassed the country

round about. News of which being brought to Marcellus, leaving his

colleague at Acerrae with the foot and all the heavy arms and a third

part of the horse, and carrying with him the rest of the horse and six

hundred light armed foot, marching night and day without remission, he

staid not till he came up to these ten thousand near a Gaulish village

called Clastidium, which not long before had been reduced under the Roman

jurisdiction.  Nor had he time to refresh his soldiers, or to give them

rest.  For the barbarians, that were then present, immediately observed

his approach, and contemned him, because he had very few foot with him.

The Gauls were singularly skillful in horsemanship, and thought to excel

in it; and as at present they also exceeded Marcellus in number, they

made no account of him.  They, therefore, with their king at their head,

instantly charged upon him, as if they would trample him under their

horses' feet, threatening all kind of cruelties.  Marcellus, because his

men were few, that they might not be encompassed and charged on all sides

by the enemy, extended his wings of horse, and, riding about, drew out

his wings of foot in length, till he came near to the enemy.  Just as he

was in the act of turning round to face the enemy, it so happened that

his horse, startled with their fierce look and their cries, gave back,

and carried him forcibly aside.  Fearing lest this accident, if converted

into an omen, might discourage his soldiers, he quickly brought his horse

round to confront the enemy, and made a gesture of adoration to the sun,

as if he had wheeled about not by chance, but for a purpose of devotion.

For it was customary to the Romans, when they offered worship to the

gods, to turn round; and in this moment of meeting the enemy, he is said

to have vowed the best of the arms to Jupiter Feretrius.

The king of the Gauls beholding Marcellus, and from the badges of his

authority conjecturing him to be the general, advanced some way before

his embattled army, and with a loud voice challenged him, and,

brandishing his lance, fiercely ran in full career at him; exceeding the

rest of the Gauls in stature, and with his armor, that was adorned with

gold and silver and various colors, shining like lightning.  These arms

seeming to Marcellus, while he viewed the enemy's army drawn up in

battalia, to be the best and fairest, and thinking them to be those he

had vowed to Jupiter, he instantly ran upon the king, and pierced through

his breastplate with his lance; then pressing upon him with the weight of

his horse, threw him to the ground, and with two or three strokes more,

slew him.  Immediately he leapt from his horse, laid his hand upon the

dead king's arms, and, looking up toward Heaven, thus spoke:  "O Jupiter

Feretrius, arbiter of the exploits of captains, and of the acts of

commanders in war and battles, be thou witness that I, a general, have

slain a general; I, a consul, have slain a king with my own hand, third

of all the Romans; and that to thee I consecrate these first and most

excellent of the spoils.  Grant to us to dispatch the relics of the war,

with the same course of fortune."  Then the Roman horse joining battle

not only with the enemy's horse, but also with the foot who attacked

them, obtained a singular and unheard of victory.  For never before or

since have so few horse defeated such numerous forces of horse and foot

together.  The enemies being to a great number slain, and the spoils

collected, he returned to his colleague, who was conducting the war, with

ill success, against the enemies near the greatest and most populous of

the Gallic cities, Milan.  This was their capital, and, therefore,

fighting valiantly in defense of it, they were not so much besieged by

Cornelius, as they besieged him.  But Marcellus having returned, and the

Gaesatae retiring as soon as they were certified of the death of the king

and the defeat of his army, Milan was taken.  The rest of their towns,

and all they had, the Gauls delivered up of their own accord to the

Romans, and had peace upon equitable conditions granted to them.

Marcellus alone, by a decree of the senate, triumphed. The triumph was in

magnificence, opulence, spoils, and the gigantic bodies of the captives,

most remarkable.  But the most grateful and most rare spectacle of all

was the general himself, carrying the arms of the barbarian king to the

god to whom he had vowed them.  He had taken a tall and straight stock of

an oak, and had lopped and formed it to a trophy.  Upon this he fastened

and hung round about the arms of the king, arranging all the pieces in

their suitable places.  The procession advancing solemnly, he, carrying

this trophy, ascended the chariot; and thus, himself the fairest and most

glorious triumphant image, was conveyed into the city.  The army adorned

with shining armor followed in order, and with verses composed for the

occasion and with songs of victory celebrated the praises of Jupiter and

of their general.  Then entering the temple of Jupiter Feretrius, he

dedicated his gift; the third, and to our memory the last, that ever did

so.  The first was Romulus, after having slain Acron, king of the

Caeninenses:  the second, Cornelius Cossus, who slew Tolumnius the

Etruscan:  after them Marcellus, having killed Britomartus king of the

Gauls; after Marcellus, no man.  The god to whom these spoils were

consecrated is called Jupiter Feretrius, from the trophy carried on the

feretrum, one of the Greek words which at that time still existed in

great numbers in Latin:  or, as others say, it is the surname of the

Thundering Jupiter, derived from ferire, to strike.  Others there are who

would have the name to be deduced from the strokes that are given in

fight; since even now in battles, when they press upon their enemies,

they constantly call out to each other, strike, in Latin, feri.  Spoils

in general they call Spolia, and these in particular Opima; though,

indeed, they say that Numa Pompilius in his commentaries, makes mention

of first, second, and third Spolia Opima; and that he prescribes that the

first taken be consecrated to Jupiter Feretrius, the second to Mars, the

third to Quirinus; as also that the reward of the first be three hundred

asses; of the second, two hundred; of the third, one hundred.  The

general account, however, prevails, that those spoils only are Opima,

which the general first takes in set battle, and takes from the enemy's

chief captain whom he has slain with his own hand.  But of this enough.

The victory and the ending of the war was so welcome to the people of

Rome, that they sent to Apollo of Delphi, in testimony of their

gratitude, a present of a golden cup of a hundred pound weight, and gave

a great part of the spoil to their associate cities, and took care that

many presents should be sent also to Hiero, king of the Syracusans, their

friend and ally.

When Hannibal invaded Italy, Marcellus was dispatched with a fleet into

Sicily.  And when the army had been defeated at Cannae, and many

thousands of them perished, and few had saved themselves by flying to

Canusium, and all feared lest Hannibal, who had destroyed the strength of

the Roman army, should advance at once with his victorious troops to

Rome, Marcellus first sent for the protection of the city fifteen hundred

solders, from the fleet.  Then, by decree of the senate, going to

Canusium, having heard that many of the soldiers had come together in

that place, he led them out of the fortifications to prevent the enemy

from ravaging the country.  The chief Roman commanders had most of them

fallen in battles; and the citizens complained, that the extreme caution

of Fabius Maximus, whose integrity and wisdom gave him the highest

authority, verged upon timidity and inaction.  They confided in him to

keep them out of danger, but could not expect that he would enable them

to retaliate.  Fixing, therefore, their thoughts upon Marcellus, and

hoping to combine his boldness, confidence, and promptitude with Fabius's

caution and prudence, and to temper the one by the other, they sent,

sometimes both with consular command, sometimes one as consul, the other

as proconsul, against the enemy.  Posidonius writes, that Fabius was

called the buckler, Marcellus the sword of Rome.  Certainly, Hannibal

himself confessed that he feared Fabius as a schoolmaster, Marcellus as

an adversary:  the former, lest he should be hindered from doing

mischief; the latter, lest he should receive harm himself.

And first, when among Hannibal's soldiers, proud of their victory,

carelessness and boldness had grown to a great height, Marcellus,

attacking all their stragglers and plundering parties, cut them off, and

by little and little diminished their forces.  Then carrying aid to the

Neapolitans and Nolans, he confirmed the minds of the former, who,

indeed, were of their own accord faithful enough to the Romans; but in

Nola he found a state of discord, the senate not being able to rule and

keep in the common people, who were generally favorers of Hannibal.

There was in the town one Bantius, a man renowned for his high birth and

courage.  This man, after he had fought most fiercely at Cannae, and had

killed many of the enemies, at last was found lying in a heap of dead

bodies, covered with darts, and was brought to Hannibal, who so honored

him, that he not only dismissed him without ransom, but also contracted

friendship with him, and made him his guest.  In gratitude for this great

favor, he became one of the strongest of the partisans of Hannibal, and

urged the people to revolt.  Marcellus could not be induced to put to

death a man of such eminence, and who had endured such dangers in

fighting on the Roman side; but, knowing himself able, by the general

kindliness of his disposition and in particular by the attractiveness of

his address, to gain over a character whose passion was for honor, one

day when Bantius saluted him, he asked him who he was; not that he knew

him not before, but seeking an occasion of further conference.  When

Bantius had told who he was, Marcellus, seeming surprised with joy and

wonder, replied:  "Are you that Bantius, whom the Romans commend above

the rest that fought at Cannae, and praise as the one man that not only

did not forsake the consul Paulus Aemilius, but received in his own body

many darts thrown at him?"  Bantius owning himself to be that very man,

and showing his scars:  "Why then," said Marcellus, "did not you, having

such proofs to show of your affection to us, come to me at my first

arrival here?  Do you think that we are unwilling to requite with favor

those who have well deserved, and who are honored even by our enemies?"

He followed up his courtesies by a present of a war-horse, and five

hundred drachmas in money.  From that time Bantius became the most

faithful assistant and ally of Marcellus, and a most keen discoverer of

those that attempted innovation and sedition.

These were many, and had entered into a conspiracy to plunder the baggage

of the Romans, when they should make an irruption against the enemy.

Marcellus, therefore, having marshaled his army within the city, placed

the baggage near to the gates, and, by an edict, forbade the Nolans to go

to the walls.  Thus, outside the city, no arms could be seen; by which

prudent device he allured Hannibal to move with his army in some disorder

to the city, thinking that things were in a tumult there.  Then

Marcellus, the nearest gate being, as he had commanded, thrown open,

issuing forth with the flower of his horse in front, charged the enemy.

By and by the foot, sallying out of another gate, with a loud shout

joined in the battle.  And while Hannibal opposes part of his forces to

these, the third gate also is opened, out of which the rest break forth,

and on all quarters fall upon the enemies, who were dismayed at this

unexpected encounter, and did but feebly resist those with whom they had

been first engaged, because of their attack by these others that sallied

out later.  Here Hannibal's soldiers, with much bloodshed and many

wounds, were beaten back to their camp, and for the first time turned

their backs to the Romans.  There fell in this action, as it is related,

more than five thousand of them; of the Romans, not above five hundred.

Livy does not affirm, that either the victory, or the slaughter of the

enemy was so great; but certain it is, that the adventure brought great

glory to Marcellus, and to the Romans, after their calamities, a great

revival of confidence, as they began now to entertain a hope, that the

enemy with whom they contended was not invincible, but liable like

themselves to defeats.

Therefore, the other consul being deceased, the people recalled

Marcellus, that they might put him into his place; and, in spite of the

magistrates, succeeded in postponing the election till his arrival, when

he was by all the suffrages created consul.  But because it happened to

thunder, the augurs accounting that he was not legitimately created, and

yet not daring, for fear of the people, to declare their sentence openly,

Marcellus voluntarily resigned the consulate, retaining however his

command.  Being created proconsul, and returning to the camp at Nola, he

proceeded to harass those that followed the party of the Carthaginian; on

whose coming with speed to succor them, Marcellus declined a challenge to

a set battle, but when Hannibal had sent out a party to plunder, and now

expected no fight, he broke out upon him with his army.  He had

distributed to the foot long lances, such as are commonly used in naval

fights; and instructed them to throw them with great force at convenient

distance against the enemies who were inexperienced in that way of

darting, and used to fight with short darts hand to hand.  This seems to

have been the cause of the total rout and open flight of all the

Carthaginians who were then engaged:  there fell of them five thousand;

four elephants were killed, and two taken; but, what was of greatest

moment, on the third day after, more than three hundred horse, Spaniards

and Numidians mixed, deserted to him, a disaster that had never to that

day happened to Hannibal, who had long kept together in harmony an army

of barbarians, collected out of many various and discordant nations.

Marcellus and his successors in all this war made good use of the

faithful service of these horsemen.

He now was a third time created consul, and sailed over into Sicily.  For

the success of Hannibal had excited the Carthaginians to lay claim to

that whole island; chiefly because after the murder of the tyrant

Hieronymus, all things had been in tumult and confusion at Syracuse.  For

which reason the Romans also had sent before to that city a force under

the conduct of Appius, as praetor.  While Marcellus was receiving that

army, a number of Roman soldiers cast themselves at his feet, upon

occasion of the following calamity.  Of those that survived the battle at

Cannae, some had escaped by flight, and some were taken alive by the

enemy; so great a multitude, that it was thought there were not remaining

Romans enough to defend the walls of the city.  And yet the magnanimity

and constancy of the city was such, that it would not redeem the captives

from Hannibal, though it might have done so for a small ransom; a decree

of the senate forbade it, and chose rather to leave them to be killed by

the enemy, or sold out of Italy; and commanded that all who had saved

themselves by flight should be transported into Sicily, and not permitted

to return into Italy, until the war with Hannibal should be ended.

These, therefore, when Marcellus was arrived in Sicily, addressed

themselves to him in great numbers; and casting themselves at his feet,

with much lamentation and tears humbly besought him to admit them to

honorable service; and promised to make it appear by their future

fidelity and exertions, that that defeat had been received rather by

misfortune than by cowardice.  Marcellus, pitying them, petitioned the

senate by letters, that he might have leave at all times to recruit his

legions out of them.  After much debate about the thing, the senate

decreed they were of opinion that the commonwealth did not require the

service of cowardly soldiers; if Marcellus perhaps thought otherwise, he

might make use of them, provided no one of them be honored on any

occasion with a crown or military gift, as a reward of his virtue or

courage.  This decree stung Marcellus; and on his return to Rome, after

the Sicilian war was ended, he upbraided the senate, that they had denied

to him, who had so highly deserved of the republic, liberty to relieve so

great a number of citizens in great calamity.

At this time Marcellus, first incensed by injures done him by

Hippocrates, commander of the Syracusans, (who, to give proof of his good

affection to the Carthaginians, and to acquire the tyranny to himself,

had killed a number of Romans at Leontini,) besieged and took by force

the city of Leontini; yet violated none of the townsmen; only deserters,

as many as he took, he subjected to the punishment of the rods and axe.

But Hippocrates, sending a report to Syracuse, that Marcellus had put all

the adult population to the sword, and then coming upon the Syracusans,

who had risen in tumult upon that false report, made himself master of

the city.  Upon this Marcellus moved with his whole army to Syracuse,

and, encamping near the wall, sent ambassadors into the city to relate to

the Syracusans the truth of what had been done in Leontini.  When these

could not prevail by treaty, the whole power being now in the hands of

Hippocrates, he proceeded to attack the city both by land and by sea.  The

land forces were conducted by Appius Marcellus, with sixty galleys, each

with five rows of oars, furnished with all sorts of arms and missiles,

and a huge bridge of planks laid upon eight ships chained together, upon

which was carried the engine to cast stones and darts, assaulted the

walls, relying on the abundance and magnificence of his preparations, and

on his own previous glory; all which, however, were, it would seem, but

trifles for Archimedes and his machines.

These machines he had designed and contrived, not as matters of any

importance, but as mere amusements in geometry; in compliance with king

Hiero's desire and request, some little time before, that he should

reduce to practice some part of his admirable speculations in science,

and by accommodating the theoretic truth to sensation and ordinary use,

bring it more within the appreciation of people in general.  Eudoxus and

Archytas had been the first originators of this far-famed and highly

prized art of mechanics, which they employed as an elegant illustration

of geometrical truths, and as a means of sustaining experimentally, to

the satisfaction of the senses, conclusions too intricate for proof by

words and diagrams.  As, for example, to solve the problem, so often

required in constructing geometrical figures, given the two extreme, to

find the two mean lines of a proportion, both these mathematicians had

recourse to the aid of instruments, adapting to their purpose certain

curves and sections of lines. But what with Plato's indignation at it,

and his invectives against it as the mere corruption and annihilation of

the one good of geometry, — which was thus shamefully turning its back

upon the unembodied objects of pure intelligence to recur to sensation,

and to ask help (not to be obtained without base subservience and

depravation) from matter; so it was that mechanics came to be separated

from geometry, and, repudiated and neglected by philosophers, took its

place as a military art.  Archimedes, however, in writing to king Hiero,

whose friend and near relation he was, had stated, that given the force,

any given weight might be moved, and even boasted, we are told, relying

on the strength of demonstration, that if there were another earth, by

going into it he could remove this.  Hiero being struck with amazement at

this, and entreating him to make good this problem by actual experiment,

and show some great weight moved by a small engine, he fixed accordingly

upon a ship of burden out of the king's arsenal, which could not be drawn

out of the dock without great labor and many men; and, loading her with

many passengers and a full freight, sitting himself the while far off,

with no great endeavor, but only holding the head of the pulley in his

hand and drawing the cord by degrees, he drew the ship in a straight

line, as smoothly and evenly, as if she had been in the sea.  The king,

astonished at this, and convinced of the power of the art, prevailed upon

Archimedes to make him engines accommodated to all the purposes,

offensive and defensive, of a siege.  These the king himself never made

use of, because he spent almost all his life in a profound quiet, and the

highest affluence.  But the apparatus was, in a most opportune time, ready

at hand for the Syracusans, and with it also the engineer himself.

When, therefore, the Romans assaulted the walls in two places at once,

fear and consternation stupefied the Syracusans, believing that nothing

was able to resist that violence and those forces.  But when Archimedes

began to ply his engines, he at once shot against the land forces all

sorts of missile weapons, and immense masses of stone that came down with

incredible noise and violence, against which no man could stand; for they

knocked down those upon whom they fell, in heaps, breaking all their

ranks and files.  In the meantime huge poles thrust out from the walls

over the ships, sunk some by the great weights which they let down from

on high upon them; others they lifted up into the air by an iron hand or

beak like a crane's beak, and, when they had drawn them up by the prow,

and set them on end upon the poop, they plunged them to the bottom of the

sea; or else the ships, drawn by engines within, and whirled about, were

dashed against steep rocks that stood jutting out under the walls, with

great destruction of the soldiers that were aboard them.  A ship was

frequently lifted up to a great height in the air (a dreadful thing to

behold), and was rolled to and fro, and kept swinging, until the mariners

were all thrown out, when at length it was dashed against the rocks, or

let fall.  At the engine that Marcellus brought upon the bridge of ships,

which was called Sambuca from some resemblance it had to an instrument of

music, while it was as yet approaching the wall, there was discharged a

piece of a rock of ten talents' weight, then a second and a third, which,

striking upon it with immense force and with a noise like thunder, broke

all its foundation to pieces, shook out all its fastenings, and

completely dislodged it from the bridge.  So Marcellus, doubtful what

counsel to pursue, drew off his ships to a safer distance, and sounded a

retreat to his forces on land.  They then took a resolution of coming up

under the walls, if it were possible, in the night; thinking that as

Archimedes used ropes stretched at length in playing his engines, the

soldiers would now be under the shot, and the darts would, for want of

sufficient distance to throw them, fly over their heads without effect.

But he, it appeared, had long before framed for such occasion engines

accommodated to any distance, and shorter weapons; and had made numerous

small openings in the walls, through which, with engines of a shorter

range, unexpected blows were inflicted on the assailants.  Thus, when

they who thought to deceive the defenders came close up to the walls,

instantly a shower of darts and other missile weapons was again cast upon

them.  And when stones came tumbling down perpendicularly upon their

heads, and, as it were, the whole wall shot out arrows at them, they

retired.  And now, again, as they were going off, arrows and darts of a

longer range indicted a great slaughter among them, and their ships were

driven one against another; while they themselves were not able to

retaliate in any way.  For Archimedes had provided and fixed most of his

engines immediately under the wall; whence the Romans, seeing that

infinite mischiefs overwhelmed them from no visible means, began to think

they were fighting with the gods.

Yet Marcellus escaped unhurt, and, deriding his own artificers and

engineers, "What," said he, "must we give up fighting with this

geometrical Briareus, who plays pitch and toss with our ships, and, with

the multitude of darts which he showers at a single moment upon us,

really outdoes the hundred-handed giants of mythology?"  And, doubtless,

the rest of the Syracusans were but the body of Archimedes' designs, one

soul moving and governing all; for, laying aside all other arms, with his

alone they infested the Romans, and protected themselves.  In fine, when

such terror had seized upon the Romans, that, if they did but see a

little rope or a piece of wood from the wall, instantly crying out, that

there it was again, Archimedes was about to let fly some engine at them,

they turned their backs and fled, Marcellus desisted from conflicts and

assaults, putting all his hope in a long siege.  Yet Archimedes possessed

so high a spirit, so profound a soul, and such treasures of scientific

knowledge, that though these inventions had now obtained him the renown

of more than human sagacity, he yet would not deign to leave behind him

any commentary or writing on such subjects; but, repudiating as sordid

and ignoble the whole trade of engineering, and every sort of art that

lends itself to mere use and profit, he placed his whole affection and

ambition in those purer speculations where there can be no reference to

the vulgar needs of life; studies, the superiority of which to all others

is unquestioned, and in which the only doubt can be, whether the beauty

and grandeur of the subjects examined, or the precision and cogency of

the methods and means of proof, most deserve our admiration.  It is not

possible to find in all geometry more difficult and intricate questions,

or more simple and lucid explanations.  Some ascribe this to his natural

genius; while others think that incredible effort and toil produced

these, to all appearance, easy and unlabored results.  No amount of

investigation of yours would succeed in attaining the proof, and yet,

once seen, you immediately believe you would have discovered it; by so

smooth and so rapid a path he leads you to the conclusion required.  And

thus it ceases to be incredible that (as is commonly told of him), the

charm of his familiar and domestic Siren made him forget his food and

neglect his person, to that degree that when he was occasionally carried

by absolute violence to bathe, or have his body anointed, he used to

trace geometrical figures in the ashes of the fire, and diagrams in the

oil on his body, being in a state of entire preoccupation, and, in the

truest sense, divine possession with his love and delight in science.

His discoveries were numerous and admirable; but he is said to have

requested his friends and relations that when he was dead, they would

place over his tomb a sphere containing a cylinder, inscribing it with

the ratio which the containing solid bears to the contained.

Such was Archimedes, who now showed himself, and, so far as lay in him,

the city also, invincible.  While the siege continued, Marcellus took

Megara, one of the earliest founded of the Greek cities in Sicily, and

capturing also the camp of Hippocrates at Acilae, killed above eight

thousand men, having attacked them whilst they were engaged in forming

their fortifications.  He overran a great part of Sicily; gained over

many towns from the Carthaginians, and overcame all that dared to

encounter him.  As the siege went on, one Damippus, a Lacedaemonian,

putting to sea in a ship from Syracuse, was taken.  When the Syracusans

much desired to redeem this man, and there were many meetings and

treaties about the matter betwixt them and Marcellus, he had opportunity

to notice a tower into which a body of men might be secretly introduced,

as the wall near to it was not difficult to surmount, and it was itself

carelessly guarded.  Coming often thither, and entertaining conferences

about the release of Damippus, he had pretty well calculated the height

of the tower, and got ladders prepared.  The Syracusans celebrated a

feast to Diana; this juncture of time, when they were given up entirely

to wine and sport, Marcellus laid hold of, and, before the citizens

perceived it, not only possessed himself of the tower, but, before the

break of day, filled the wall around with soldiers, and made his way into

the Hexapylum.  The Syracusans now beginning to stir, and to be alarmed

at the tumult, he ordered the trumpets everywhere to sound, and thus

frightened them all into flight, as if all parts of the city were already

won, though the most fortified, and the fairest, and most ample quarter

was still ungained.  It is called Acradina, and was divided by a wall

from the outer city, one part of which they call Neapolis, the other

Tycha.  Possessing himself of these, Marcellus, about break of day,

entered through the Hexapylum, all his officers congratulating him.  But

looking down from the higher places upon the beautiful and spacious city

below, he is said to have wept much, commiserating the calamity that hung

over it, when his thoughts represented to him, how dismal and foul the

face of the city would in a few hours be, when plundered and sacked by

the soldiers.  For among the officers of his army there was not one man

that durst deny the plunder of the city to the soldiers' demands; nay,

many were instant that it should be set on fire and laid level to the

ground:  but this Marcellus would not listen to.  Yet he granted, but

with great unwillingness and reluctance, that the money and slaves should

be made prey; giving orders, at the same time, that none should violate

any free person, nor kill, misuse, or make a slave of any of the

Syracusans.  Though he had used this moderation, he still esteemed the

condition of that city to be pitiable, and, even amidst the

congratulations and joy, showed his strong feelings of sympathy and

commiseration at seeing all the riches accumulated during a long

felicity, now dissipated in an hour.  For it is related, that no less

prey and plunder was taken here, than afterward in Carthage.  For not

long after, they obtained also the plunder of the other parts of the city,

which were taken by treachery; leaving nothing untouched but the king's

money, which was brought into the public treasury.  But nothing afflicted

Marcellus so much as the death of Archimedes; who was then, as fate would

have it, intent upon working out some problem by a diagram, and having

fixed his mind alike and his eyes upon the subject of his speculation, he

never noticed the incursion of the Romans, nor that the city was taken.

In this transport of study and contemplation, a soldier, unexpectedly

coming up to him, commanded him to follow to Marcellus; which he

declining to do before he had worked out his problem to a demonstration,

the soldier, enraged, drew his sword and ran him through.  Others write,

that a Roman soldier, running upon him with a drawn sword, offered to

kill him; and that Archimedes, looking back, earnestly besought him to

hold his hand a little while, that he might not leave what he was then at

work upon inconclusive and imperfect; but the soldier, nothing moved by

his entreaty, instantly killed him.  Others again relate, that as

Archimedes was carrying to Marcellus mathematical instruments, dials,

spheres, and angles, by which the magnitude of the sun might be measured

to the sight, some soldiers seeing him, and thinking that he carried gold

in a vessel, slew him.  Certain it is, that his death was very afflicting

to Marcellus; and that Marcellus ever after regarded him that killed him

as a murderer; and that he sought for his kindred and honored them with

signal favors.

Indeed, foreign nations had held the Romans to be excellent soldiers and

formidable in battle; but they had hitherto given no memorable example of

gentleness, or humanity, or civil virtue; and Marcellus seems first to

have shown to the Greeks, that his countrymen were most illustrious for

their justice.  For such was his moderation to all with whom he had

anything to do, and such his benignity also to many cities and private

men, that, if anything hard or severe was decreed concerning the people of

Enna, Megara, or Syracuse, the blame was thought to belong rather to

those upon whom the storm fell, than to those who brought it upon them.

One example of many I will commemorate.  In Sicily there is a town called

Engyium, not indeed great, but very ancient and ennobled by the presence

of the goddesses, called the Mothers.  The temple, they say, was built by

the Cretans; and they show some spears and brazen helmets, inscribed with

the names of Meriones, and (with the same spelling as in Latin) of

Ulysses, who consecrated them to the goddesses.  This city highly

favoring the party of the Carthaginians, Nicias, the most eminent of the

citizens, counseled them to go over to the Romans; to that end acting

freely and openly in harangues to their assemblies, arguing the

imprudence and madness of the opposite course.  They, fearing his power

and authority, resolved to deliver him in bonds to the Carthaginians.

Nicias, detecting the design, and seeing that his person was secretly

kept in watch, proceeded to speak irreligiously to the vulgar of the

Mothers, and showed many signs of disrespect, as if he denied and

contemned the received opinion of the presence of those goddesses; his

enemies the while rejoicing, that he, of his own accord, sought the

destruction hanging over his head.  When they were just now about to lay

hands upon him, an assembly was held, and here Nicias, making a speech to

the people concerning some affair then under deliberation, in the midst

of his address, cast himself upon the ground; and soon after, while

amazement (as usually happens on such surprising occasions) held the

assembly immovable, raising and turning his head round, he began in a

trembling and deep tone, but by degrees raised and sharpened his voice.

When he saw the whole theater struck with horror and silence, throwing

off his mantle and rending his tunic, he leaps up half naked, and runs

towards the door, crying out aloud that he was driven by the wrath of the

Mothers.  When no man durst, out of religious fear, lay hands upon him or

stop him, but all gave way before him, he ran out of the gate, not

omitting any shriek or gesture of men possessed and mad.  His wife,

conscious of his counterfeiting, and privy to his design, taking her

children with her, first cast herself as a suppliant before the temple of

the goddesses; then, pretending to seek her wandering husband, no man

hindering her, went out of the town in safety; and by this means they all

escaped to Marcellus at Syracuse.  After many other such affronts offered

him by the men of Engyium, Marcellus, having taken them all prisoners and

cast them into bonds, was preparing to inflict upon them the last

punishment; when Nicias, with tears in his eyes, addressed himself to

him.  In fine, casting himself at Marcellus's feet, and deprecating for

his citizens, he begged most earnestly their lives, chiefly those of his

enemies.  Marcellus, relenting, set them all at liberty, and rewarded

Nicias with ample lands and rich presents.  This history is recorded by

Posidonius the philosopher.

Marcellus, at length recalled by the people of Rome to the immediate war

at home, to illustrate his triumph, and adorn the city, carried away with

him a great number of the most beautiful ornaments of Syracuse.  For,

before that, Rome neither had, nor had seen, any of those fine and

exquisite rarities; nor was any pleasure taken in graceful and elegant

pieces of workmanship.  Stuffed with barbarous arms and spoils stained

with blood, and everywhere crowned with triumphal memorials and trophies,

she was no pleasant or delightful spectacle for the eyes of peaceful or

refined spectators:  but, as Epaminondas named the fields of Boeotia the

stage of Mars; and Xenophon called Ephesus the workhouse of war; so, in

my judgment, may you call Rome, at that time, (to use the words of

Pindar,) "the precinct of the peaceless Mars."  Whence Marcellus was more

popular with the people in general, because he had adorned the city with

beautiful objects that had all the charms of Grecian grace and symmetry;

but Fabius Maximus, who neither touched nor brought away anything of

this kind from Tarentum, when he had taken it, was more approved of by

the elder men.  He carried off the money and valuables, but forbade the

statues to be moved; adding, as it is commonly related, "Let us leave to

the Tarentines these offended gods."  They blamed Marcellus, first, for

placing the city in an invidious position, as it seemed now to celebrate

victories and lead processions of triumph, not only over men, but also

over the gods as captives; then, that he had diverted to idleness, and

vain talk about curious arts and artificers, the common people, which,

bred up in wars and agriculture, had never tasted of luxury and sloth,

and, as Euripides said of Hercules, had been

Rude, unrefined, only for great things good,

so that now they misspent much of their time in examining and criticizing

trifles.  And yet, notwithstanding this reprimand, Marcellus made it his

glory to the Greeks themselves, that he had taught his ignorant

countrymen to esteem and admire the elegant and wonderful productions of

Greece.

But when the envious opposed his being brought triumphant into the city,

because there were some relics of the war in Sicily, and a third triumph

would be looked upon with jealousy, he gave way.  He triumphed upon the

Alban mount, and thence entered the city in ovation, as it is called in

Latin, in Greek eua; but in this ovation he was neither carried in a

chariot, nor crowned with laurel, nor ushered by trumpets sounding; but

went afoot with shoes on, many flutes or pipes sounding in concert, while

he passed along, wearing a garland of myrtle, in a peaceable aspect,

exciting rather love and respect than fear.  Whence I am, by conjecture,

led to think that, originally, the difference observed betwixt ovation

and triumph, did not depend upon the greatness of the achievements, but

the manner of performing them.  For they who, having fought a set battle,

and slain the enemy, returned victors, led that martial, terrible

triumph, and, as the ordinary custom then was, in lustrating the army,

adorned the arms and the soldiers with a great deal of laurel.  But they

who, without force, by colloquy, persuasion, and reasoning, had done the

business, to these captains custom gave the honor of the unmilitary and

festive ovation.  For the pipe is the badge of peace, and myrtle the

plant of Venus, who more than the rest of the gods and goddesses abhors

force and war.  It is called ovation, not, as most think, from the Greek

euasmus, because they act it with shouting and cries of Eau:  for so do

they also the proper triumphs.  The Greeks have wrested the word to their

own language, thinking that this honor, also, must have some connection

with Bacchus, who in Greek has the titles of Euius and Thriambus. But

the thing is otherwise.  For it was the custom for commanders, in their

triumph, to immolate an ox, but in their ovation, a sheep:  hence they

named it Ovation, from the Latin ovis.  It is worth observing, how

exactly opposite the sacrifices appointed by the Spartan legislator are,

to those of the Romans.  For at Lacedaemon, a captain, who had performed

the work he undertook by cunning, or courteous treaty, on laying down his

command immolated an ox; he that did the business by battle, offered a

cock; the Lacedaemonians, though most warlike, thinking an exploit

performed by reason and wisdom, to be more excellent and more congruous

to man, than one effected by mere force and courage.  Which of the two is

to be preferred, I leave to the determination of others.

Marcellus being the fourth time consul, his enemies suborned the

Syracusans to come to Rome to accuse him, and to complain that they had

suffered indignities and wrongs, contrary to the conditions granted them.

It happened that Marcellus was in the capitol offering sacrifice when the

Syracusans petitioned the senate, yet sitting, that they might have leave

to accuse him and present their grievances.  Marcellus's colleague, eager

to protect him in his absence, put them out of the court.  But Marcellus

himself came as soon as he heard of it.  And first, in his curule chair

as consul, he referred to the senate the cognizance of other matters; but

when these were transacted, rising from his seat, he passed as a private

man into the place where the accused were wont to make their defense, and

gave free liberty to the Syracusans to impeach him.  But they, struck

with consternation by his majesty and confidence, stood astonished, and

the power of his presence now, in his robe of state, appeared far more

terrible and severe than it had done when he was arrayed in armor.  Yet

reanimated at length by Marcellus's rivals, they began their impeachment,

and made an oration in which pleas of justice mingled with lamentation

and complaint; the sum of which was, that being allies and friends of the

people of Rome, they had, notwithstanding, suffered things which other

commanders had abstained from inflicting upon enemies.  To this Marcellus

answered; that they had committed many acts of hostility against the

people of Rome, and had suffered nothing but what enemies conquered and

captured in war cannot possibly be protected from suffering:  that it

was their own fault they had been made captives, because they refused to

give ear to his frequent attempts to persuade them by gentle means:

neither were they forced into war by the power of tyrants, but had rather

chosen the tyrants themselves for the express object that they might make

war.  The orations ended, and the Syracusans, according to the custom,

having retired, Marcellus left his colleague to ask the sentences, and

withdrawing with the Syracusans, staid expecting at the doors of the

senate-house; not in the least discomposed in spirit, either with alarm

at the accusation, or by anger against the Syracusans; but with perfect

calmness and serenity attending the issue of the cause.  The sentences at

length being all asked, and a decree of the senate made in vindication of

Marcellus, the Syracusans, with tears flowing from their eyes, cast

themselves at his knees, beseeching him to forgive themselves there

present, and to be moved by the misery of the rest of their city, which

would ever be mindful of, and grateful for, his benefits.  Thus

Marcellus, softened by their tears and distress, was not only reconciled

to the deputies, but ever afterwards continued to find opportunity of

doing kindness to the Syracusans.  The liberty which he had restored to

them, and their rights, laws, and goods that were left, the senate

confirmed.  Upon which account the Syracusans, besides other signal

honors, made a law, that if Marcellus should at anytime come into Sicily,

or any of his posterity, the Syracusans should wear garlands and offer

public sacrifice to the gods.

After this he moved against Hannibal.  And whereas the other consuls and

commanders, since the defeat received at Cannae, had all made use of the

same policy against Hannibal, namely, to decline coming to a battle with

him; and none had had the courage to encounter him in the field, and put

themselves to the decision by the sword; Marcellus entered upon the

opposite course, thinking that Italy would be destroyed by the very delay

by which they looked to wear out Hannibal; and that Fabius, who, adhering

to his cautious policy, waited to see the war extinguished, while Rome

itself meantime wasted away, (like timid physicians, who, dreading to

administer remedies, stay waiting, and believe that what is the decay of

the patient's strength is the decline of the disease,) was not taking a

right course to heal the sickness of his country.  And first, the great

cities of the Samnites, which had revolted, came into his power; in which

he found a large quantity of corn and money, and three thousand of

Hannibal's soldiers, that were left for the defense.  After this, the

proconsul Cnaeus Fulvius with eleven tribunes of the soldiers being slain

in Apulia, and the greatest part of the army also at the same time cut

off, he dispatched letters to Rome, and bade the people be of good

courage, for that he was now upon the march against Hannibal, to turn his

triumph into sadness.  On these letters being read, Livy writes, that the

people were not only not encouraged, but more discouraged, than before.

For the danger, they thought, was but the greater in proportion as

Marcellus was of more value than Fulvius.  He, as he had written,

advancing into the territories of the Lucanians, came up to him at

Numistro, and, the enemy keeping himself upon the hills, pitched his camp

in a level plain, and the next day drew forth his army in order for

fight.  Nor did Hannibal refuse the challenge.  They fought long and

obstinately on both sides, victory yet seeming undecided, when, after

three hours conflict, night hardly parted them.  The next day, as soon as

the sun was risen, Marcellus again brought forth his troops, and ranged

them among the dead bodies of the slain, challenging Hannibal to solve

the question by another trial.  When he dislodged and drew off,

Marcellus, gathering up the spoils of the enemies, and burying the bodies

of his slain soldiers, closely followed him.  And though Hannibal often

used stratagems, and laid ambushes to entrap Marcellus, yet he could

never circumvent him.  By skirmishes, meantime, in all of which he was

superior, Marcellus gained himself such high repute, that, when the time

of the Comitia at Rome was near at hand, the senate thought fit rather to

recall the other consul from Sicily, than to withdraw Marcellus from his

conflict with Hannibal; and on his arrival they bid him name Quintus

Fulvius dictator.  For the dictator is created neither by the people, nor

by the senate; but the consul or the praetor, before the popular

assembly, pronounces him to be dictator, whom he himself chooses.  Hence

he is called dictator, dicere meaning to name.  Others say, that he is

named dictator, because his word is a law, and he orders what he pleases,

without submitting it to the vote.  For the Romans call the orders of

magistrates, Edicts.

And now because Marcellus's colleague, who was recalled from Sicily, had

a mind to name another man dictator, and would not be forced to change

his opinion, he sailed away by night back to Sicily.  So the common

people made an order, that Quintus Fulvius should be chosen dictator:

and the senate, by an express, commanded Marcellus to nominate him.  He

obeying proclaimed him dictator according to the order of the people; but

the office of proconsul was continued to himself for a year.  And having

arranged with Fabius Maximus, that while he besieged Tarentum, he himself

would, by following Hannibal and drawing him up and down, detain him from

coming to the relief of the Tarentines, he overtook him at Canusium:  and

as Hannibal often shifted his camp, and still declined the combat, he

everywhere sought to engage him.  At last pressing upon him while

encamping, by light skirmishes he provoked him to a battle; but night

again divided them in the very heat of the conflict.  The next day

Marcellus again showed himself in arms, and brought up his forces in

array.  Hannibal, in extreme grief, called his Carthaginians together to

an harangue; and vehemently prayed them, to fight today worthily of all

their former successes; "For you see," said he, "how, after such great

victories, we have not liberty to respire, nor to repose ourselves,

though victors; unless we drive this man back."  Then the two armies

joining battle, fought fiercely; when the event of an untimely movement

showed Marcellus to have been guilty of an error.  The right wing being

hard pressed upon, he commanded one of the legions to be brought up to

the front.  This change disturbing the array and posture of the legions,

gave the victory to the enemies; and there fell two thousand seven

hundred Romans.  Marcellus, after he had retreated into his camp, called

his soldiers together; "I see," said he, "many Roman arms and bodies, but

I see not so much as one Roman."  To their entreaties for his pardon, he

returned a refusal while they remained beaten, but promised to give it so

soon as they should overcome; and he resolved to bring them into the

field again the next day, that the fame of their victory might arrive at

Rome before that of their flight.  Dismissing the assembly, he commanded

barley instead of wheat to be given to those companies that had turned

their backs.  These rebukes were so bitter to the soldiers, that though a

great number of them were grievously wounded, yet they relate there was

not one to whom the general's oration was not more painful and smarting

than his wounds.

The day breaking, a scarlet toga, the sign of instant battle, was

displayed.  The companies marked with ignominy, begged they might be

posted in the foremost place, and obtained their request.  Then the

tribunes bring forth the rest of the forces, and draw them up.  On news

of which, "O strange!" said Hannibal, "what will you do with this man,

who can bear neither good nor bad fortune?  He is the only man who

neither suffers us to rest when he is victor, nor rests himself when he

is overcome.  We shall have, it seems, perpetually to fight with him; as

in good success his confidence, and in ill success his shame, still urges

him to some further enterprise?"  Then the armies engaged.  When the

fight was doubtful, Hannibal commanded the elephants to be brought into

the first battalion, and to be driven upon the van of the Romans.  When

the beasts, trampling upon many, soon caused disorder, Flavius, a tribune

of soldiers, snatching an ensign, meets them, and wounding the first

elephant with the spike at the bottom of the ensign staff, puts him to

flight.  The beast turned round upon the next, and drove back both him

and the rest that followed.  Marcellus, seeing this, pours in his horse

with great force upon the elephants, and upon the enemy disordered by

their flight.  The horse, making a fierce impression, pursued the

Carthaginians home to their camp, while the elephants, wounded, and

running upon their own party, caused a considerable slaughter.  It is

said, more than eight thousand were slain; of the Roman army three

thousand, and almost all wounded.  This gave Hannibal opportunity to

retire in the silence of the night, and to remove to greater distance

from Marcellus; who was kept from pursuing by the number of his wounded

men, and removed, by gentle marches, into Campania, and spent the summer

at Sinuessa, engaged in restoring them.

But as Hannibal, having disentangled himself from Marcellus, ranged with

his army round about the country, and wasted Italy free from all fear, at

Rome Marcellus was evil spoken of.  His detractors induced Publicius

Bibulus, tribune of the people, an eloquent and violent man, to undertake

his accusation.  He, by assiduous harangues, prevailed upon the people to

withdraw from Marcellus the command of the army; "Seeing that Marcellus,"

said he, "after brief exercise in the war, has withdrawn as it might be

from the wrestling ground to the warm baths to refresh himself."

Marcellus, on hearing this, appointed lieutenants over his camp, and

hasted to Rome to refute the charges against him:  and there found ready

drawn up an impeachment consisting of these calumnies.  At the day

prefixed, in the Flaminian circus, into which place the people had

assembled themselves, Bibulus rose and accused him.  Marcellus himself

answered, briefly and simply:  but the first and most approved men of the

city spoke largely and in high terms, very freely advising the people not

to show themselves worse judges than the enemy, condemning Marcellus of

timidity, from whom alone of all their captains the enemy fled, and as

perpetually endeavored to avoid fighting with him, as to fight with

others.  When they made an end of speaking, the accuser's hope to obtain

judgment so far deceived him, that Marcellus was not only absolved, but

the fifth time created consul.

No sooner had he entered upon this consulate, but he suppressed a great

commotion in Etruria, that had proceeded near to revolt, and visited and

quieted the cities.  Then, when the dedication of the temple, which he had

vowed out of his Sicilian spoils to Honor and Virtue, was objected to by

the priests, because they denied that one temple could be lawfully

dedicated to two gods, he began to adjoin another to it, resenting the

priests' opposition, and almost converting the thing into an omen.  And,

truly, many other prodigies also affrighted him; some temples had been

struck with lightning, and in Jupiter's temple mice had gnawed the gold;

it was reported also, that an ox had spoke, and that a boy had been born

with a head like an elephant's.  All which prodigies had indeed been

attended to, but due reconciliation had not been obtained from the gods.

The aruspices therefore detained him at Rome, glowing and burning with

desire to return to the war.  For no man was ever inflamed with so great

desire of any thing, as was he to fight a battle with Hannibal.  It was

the subject of his dreams in the night, the topic of all his

consultations with his friends and familiars, nor did he present to the

gods any other wish, but that he might meet Hannibal in the field.  And I

think, that he would most gladly have set upon him, with both armies

environed within a single camp.  Had he not been even loaded with honors,

and had he not given proofs in many ways of his maturity of judgment and

of prudence equal to that of any commander, you might have said, that he

was agitated by a youthful ambition, above what became a man of that age:

for he had passed the sixtieth year of his life when he began his fifth

consulship.

The sacrifices having been offered, and all that belonged to the

propitiation of the gods performed, according to the prescription of the

diviners, he at last with his colleague went forth to carry on the war.

He tried all possible means to provoke Hannibal, who at that time had a

standing camp betwixt Bantia and Venusia.  Hannibal declined an engagement,

but having obtained intelligence that some troops were on their way to

the town of Locri Epizephyrii, placing an ambush under the little hill of

Petelia, he slew two thousand five hundred soldiers.  This incensed

Marcellus to revenge; and he therefore moved nearer Hannibal.  Betwixt

the two camps was a little hill, a tolerably secure post, covered with

wood; it had steep descents on either side, and there were springs of

water seen trickling down.  This place was so fit and advantageous, that

the Romans wondered that Hannibal, who had come thither before them, had

not seized upon it, but had left it to the enemies.  But to him the place

had seemed commodious indeed for a camp, but yet more commodious for an

ambuscade; and to that use he chose to put it.  So in the wood and the

hollows he hid a number of archers and spearmen, confident that the

commodiousness of the place would allure the Romans.  Nor was he deceived

in his expectation.  For presently in the Roman camp they talked and

disputed, as if they had all been captains, how the place ought to be

seized, and what great advantage they should thereby gain upon the

enemies, chiefly if they transferred their camp thither, at any rate, if

they strengthened the place with a fort.  Marcellus resolved to go, with

a few horse, to view it.  Having called a diviner he proceeded to

sacrifice.  In the first victim the aruspex showed him the liver without

a head; in the second the head appeared of unusual size, and all the

other indications highly promising.  When these seemed sufficient to free

them from the dread of the former, the diviners declared, that they were

all the more terrified by the latter:  because entrails too fair and

promising, when they appear after others that are maimed and monstrous,

render the change doubtful and suspicious But

Nor fire nor brazen wall can keep out fate;

as Pindar observes.  Marcellus, therefore, taking with him his colleague

Crispinus, and his son, a tribune of soldiers, with two hundred and

twenty horse at most, (among whom there was not one Roman, but all were

Etruscans, except forty Fregellans, of whose courage and fidelity he had

on all occasions received full proof,) goes to view the place.  The hill

was covered with woods all over; on the top of it sat a scout concealed

from the sight of the enemy, but having the Roman camp exposed to his

view.  Upon signs received from him, the men that were placed in ambush,

stirred not till Marcellus came near; and then all starting up in an

instant, and encompassing him from all sides, attacked him with darts,

struck about and wounded the backs of those that fled, and pressed upon

those who resisted.  These were the forty Fregellans.  For though the

Etruscans fled in the very beginning of the fight, the Fregellans formed

themselves into a ring, bravely defending the consuls, till Crispinus,

struck with two darts, turned his horse to fly away; and Marcellus's side

was run through with a lance with a broad head.  Then the Fregellans,

also, the few that remained alive, leaving the fallen consul, and

rescuing young Marcellus, who also was wounded, got into the camp by

flight.  There were slain not much above forty; five lictors and eighteen

horsemen came alive into the enemy's hands.  Crispinus also died of his

wounds a few days after.  Such a disaster as the loss of both consuls in

a single engagement, was one that had never before befallen the Romans.

Hannibal, little valuing the other events, so soon as he was told of

Marcellus's death, immediately hasted to the hilt.  Viewing the body, and

continuing for some time to observe its strength and shape, he allowed

not a word to fall from him expressive of the least pride or arrogancy,

nor did he show in his countenance any sign of gladness, as another

perhaps would have done, when his fierce and troublesome enemy had been

taken away; but amazed by so sudden and unexpected an end, taking off

nothing but his ring, gave order to have the body properly clad and

adorned, and honorably burned.  The relics, put into a silver urn, with a

crown of gold to cover it, he sent back to his son.  But some of the

Numidians setting upon those that were carrying the urn, took it from

them by force, and cast away the bones; which being told to Hannibal, "It

is impossible, it seems then," he said, "to do anything against the will

of God!"  He punished the Numidians; but took no further care of sending

or recollecting the bones; conceiving that Marcellus so fell, and so lay

unburied, by a certain fate.  So Cornelius Nepos and Valerius Maximus

have left upon record:  but Livy and Augustus Caesar affirm, that the urn

was brought to his son, and honored with a magnificent funeral.  Besides

the monuments raised for him at Rome, there was dedicated to his memory

at Catana in Sicily, an ample wrestling place called after him; statues

and pictures, out of those he took from Syracuse, were set up in

Samothrace, in the temple of the gods, named Cabiri, and in that of

Minerva at Lindus, where also there was a statue of him, says Posidonius,

with the following inscription:

This was, O stranger, once Rome's star divine,

Claudius Marcellus of an ancient line;

To fight her wars seven times her consul made,

Low in the dust her enemies he laid.

The writer of the inscription has added to Marcellus's five consulates,

his two proconsulates.  His progeny continued in high honor even down to

Marcellus, son of Octavia, sister of Augustus, whom she bore to her

husband Caius Marcellus; and who died, a bridegroom, in the year of his

aedileship, having not long before married Caesar's daughter.  His

mother, Octavia, dedicated the library to his honor and memory, and

Caesar, the theater which bears his name.

COMPARISION OF PELOPIDAS WITH MARCELLUS

These are the memorable things I have found in historians, concerning

Marcellus and Pelopidas.  Betwixt which two great men, though in natural

character and manners they nearly resembled each other, because both were

valiant and diligent, daring and high-spirited, there was yet some

diversity in the one point, that Marcellus in many cities which he

reduced under his power, committed great slaughter; but Epaminondas and

Pelopidas never after any victory put men to death, or reduced citizens

to slavery.  And we are told, too, that the Thebans would not, had these

been present, have taken the measures they did, against the Orchomenians.

Marcellus's exploits against the Gauls are admirable and ample; when,

accompanied by a few horse, he defeated and put to fight a vast number of

horse and foot together, (an action you cannot easily in historians find

to have been done by any other captain,) and took their king prisoner.

To which honor Pelopidas aspired, but did not attain; he was killed by

the tyrant in the attempt.  But to these you may perhaps oppose those two

most glorious battles at Leuctra and Tegyrae; and we have no statement of

any achievement of Marcellus, by stealth or ambuscade, such as were those

of Pelopidas, when he returned from exile, and killed the tyrants at

Thebes; which, indeed, may claim to be called the first in rank of all

achievements ever performed by secrecy and cunning.  Hannibal was,

indeed, a most formidable enemy for the Romans but so for that matter

were the Lacedaemonians for the Thebans.  And that these were, in the

fights of Leuctra and Tegyrae, beaten and put to fight by Pelopidas, is

confessed; whereas, Polybius writes, that Hannibal was never so much as

once vanquished by Marcellus, but remained invincible in all encounters,

till Scipio came.  I myself, indeed, have followed rather Livy, Caesar,

Cornelius Nepos, and, among the Greeks, king Juba, in stating that the

troops of Hannibal were in some encounters routed and put to flight by

Marcellus; but certainly these defeats conduced little to the sum of the

war.  It would seem as if they had been merely feints of some sort on the

part of the Carthaginian.  What was indeed truly and really admirable

was, that the Romans, after the defeat of so many armies, the slaughter

of so many captains, and, in fine, the confusion of almost the whole

Roman empire, still showed a courage equal to their losses, and were as

willing as their enemies to engage in new battles.  And Marcellus was the

one man who overcame the great and inveterate fear and dread, and

revived, raised, and confirmed the spirits of the soldiers to that degree

of emulation and bravery, that would not let them easily yield the

victory, but made them contend for it to the last.  For the same men,

whom continual defeats had accustomed to think themselves happy, if they

could but save themselves by running from Hannibal, were by him taught to

esteem it base and ignominious to return safe but unsuccessful; to be

ashamed to confess that they had yielded one step in the terrors of the

fight; and to grieve to extremity if they were not victorious.

In short, as Pelopidas was never overcome in any battle, where himself

was present and commanded in chief, and as Marcellus gained more

victories than any of his contemporaries, truly he that could not be

easily overcome, considering his many successes, may fairly be compared

with him who was undefeated.  Marcellus took Syracuse; whereas Pelopidas

was frustrated of his hope of capturing Sparta.  But in my judgment, it

was more difficult to advance his standard even to the walls of Sparta,

and to be the first of mortals that ever passed the river Eurotas in

arms, than it was to reduce Sicily; unless, indeed, we say that that

adventure is with more of right to be attributed to Epaminondas, as was

also the Leuctrian battle; whereas Marcellus's renown, and the glory of

his brave actions came entire and undiminished to him alone.  For he

alone took Syracuse; and without his colleague's help defeated the Gauls,

and, when all others declined, alone, without one companion, ventured to

engage with Hannibal; and changing the aspect of the war first showed the

example of daring to attack him.

I cannot commend the death of either of these great men; the suddenness

and strangeness of their ends gives me a feeling rather of pain and

distress.  Hannibal has my admiration, who, in so many severe conflicts,

more than can be reckoned in one day, never received so much as one

wound.  I honor Chrysantes also, (in Xenophon's Cyropaedia,) who, having

raised his sword in the act of striking his enemy, so soon as a retreat

was sounded, left him, and retired sedately and modestly.  Yet the anger

which provoked Pelopidas to pursue revenge in the heat of fight, may

excuse him.

The first thing for a captain is to gain

Safe victory; the next to be with honor slain,

as Euripides says.  For then he cannot be said to suffer death; it is

rather to be called an action.  The very object, too, of Pelopidas's

victory, which consisted in the slaughter of the tyrant, presenting

itself to his eyes, did not wholly carry him away unadvisedly: he could

not easily expect again to have another equally glorious occasion for the

exercise of his courage, in a noble and honorable cause.  But Marcellus,

when it made little to his advantage, and when no such violent ardor as

present danger naturally calls out transported him to passion, throwing

himself into danger, fell into an unexplored ambush; he, namely, who had

borne five consulates, led three triumphs, won the spoils and glories of

kings and victories, to act the part of a mere scout or sentinel, and to

expose all his achievements to be trod under foot by the mercenary

Spaniards and Numidians, who sold themselves and their lives to the

Carthaginians; so that even they themselves felt unworthy, and almost

grudged themselves the unhoped for success of having cut off, among a few

Fregellan scouts, the most valiant, the most potent, and most renowned of

the Romans.  Let no man think that we have thus spoken out of a design to

accuse these noble men; it is merely an expression of frank indignation

in their own behalf, at seeing them thus wasting all their other virtues

upon that of bravery, and throwing away their lives, as if the loss would

be only felt by themselves, and not by their country, allies, and

friends.

After Pelopidas's death, his friends, for whom he died, made a funeral

for him; the enemies, by whom he had been killed, made one for Marcellus.

A noble and happy lot indeed the former, yet there is something higher

and greater in the admiration rendered by enemies to the virtue that had

been their own obstacle, than in the grateful acknowledgments of friends.

Since, in the one case, it is virtue alone that challenges itself the

honor; while, in the other, it may be rather men's personal profit and

advantage that is the real origin of what they do.

ARISTIDES

Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, was of the tribe Antiochis, and

township of Alopece.  As to his wealth, statements differ; some say

he passed his life in extreme poverty, and left behind him two

daughters whose indigence long kept them unmarried:  but Demetrius,

the Phalerian, in opposition to this general report, professes in his

Socrates, to know a farm at Phalerum going by Aristides's name, where

he was interred; and, as marks of his opulence, adduces first, the

office of archon eponymus, which he obtained by the lot of the bean;

which was confined to the highest assessed families, called the

Pentacosiomedimni; second, the ostracism, which was not usually

inflicted on the poorer citizens, but on those of great houses, whose

elation exposed them to envy; third and last, that he left certain

tripods in the temple of Bacchus, offerings for his victory in

conducting the representation of dramatic performances, which were

even in our age still to be seen, retaining this inscription upon

them, "The tribe Antiochis obtained the victory:  Aristides defrayed

the charges:  Archestratus's play was acted."  But this argument,

though in appearance the strongest, is of the least moment of any.

For Epaminondas, who all the world knows was educated, and lived his

whole life, in much poverty, and also Plato, the philosopher,

exhibited magnificent shows, the one an entertainment of flute-players

the other of dithyrambic singers; Dion, the Syracusan, supplying the

expenses of the latter, and Pelopidas those of Epaminondas.  For good

men do not allow themselves in any inveterate and irreconcilable

hostility to receiving presents from their friends, but while looking

upon those that are accepted to be hoarded up and with avaricious

intentions, as sordid and mean, they do not refuse such as, apart from

all profit, gratify the pure love of honor and magnificence.

Panaetius, again, shows that Demetrius was deceived concerning the

tripod by an identity of name.  For, from the Persian war to the end

of the Peloponnesian, there are upon record only two of the name of

Aristides, who defrayed the expense of representing plays and gained

the prize neither of which was the same with the son of Lysimachus;

but the father of the one was Xenophilus, and the other lived at a

much later time, as the way of writing, which is that in use since the

time of Euclides, and the addition of the name of Archestratus prove,

a name which, in the time of the Persian war, no writer mentions, but

which several, during the Peloponnesian war, record as that of a

dramatic poet.  The argument of Panaetius requires to be more closely

considered.  But as for the ostracism, everyone was liable to it,

whom his reputation, birth, or eloquence raised above the common

level; insomuch that even Damon, preceptor to Pericles, was thus

banished, because he seemed a man of more than ordinary sense.  And,

moreover, Idomeneus says, that Aristides was not made archon by the

lot of the bean, but the free election of the people.  And if he held

the office after the battle of Plataea, as Demetrius himself has

written, it is very probable that his great reputation and success in

the war, made him be preferred for his virtue to an office which

others received in consideration of their wealth.  But Demetrius

manifestly is eager not only to exempt Aristides but Socrates

likewise, from poverty, as from a great evil; telling us that the

latter had not only a house of his own, but also seventy minae put out

at interest with Crito.

Aristides being the friend and supporter of that Clisthenes, who

settled the government after the expulsion of the tyrants, and

emulating and admiring Lycurgus the Lacedaemonian above all

politicians, adhered to the aristocratical principles of government;

and had Themistocles, son to Neocles, his adversary on the side of the

populace.  Some say that, being boys and bred up together from their

infancy, they were always at variance with each other in all their

words and actions as well serious as playful, and that in this their

early contention they soon made proof of their natural inclinations;

the one being ready, adventurous, and subtle, engaging readily and

eagerly in everything; the other of a staid and settled temper,

intent on the exercise of justice, not admitting any degree of

falsity, indecorum, or trickery, no, not so much as at his play.

Ariston of Chios says the first origin of the enmity which rose to so

great a height, was a love affair; they were rivals for the affection

of the beautiful Stesilaus of Ceos, and were passionate beyond all

moderation, and did not lay aside their animosity when the beauty that

had excited it passed away; but, as if it had only exercised them in

it, immediately carried their heats and differences into public

business.

Themistocles, therefore, joining an association of partisans,

fortified himself with considerable strength; insomuch that when some

one told him that were he impartial, he would make a good magistrate;

"I wish," replied he, "I may never sit on that tribunal where my

friends shall not plead a greater privilege than strangers."  But

Aristides walked, so to say, alone on his own path in politics, being

unwilling, in the first place, to go along with his associates in ill

doing, or to cause them vexation by not gratifying their wishes; and,

secondly, observing that many were encouraged by the support they had

in their friends to act injuriously, he was cautious; being of opinion

that the integrity of his words and actions was the only right

security for a good citizen.

However, Themistocles making many dangerous alterations, and

withstanding and interrupting him in the whole series of his actions,

Aristides also was necessitated to set himself against all

Themistocles did, partly in self-defense, and partly to impede his

power from still increasing by the favor of the multitude; esteeming

it better to let slip some public conveniences, rather than that he by

prevailing should become powerful in all things.  In fine, when he

once had opposed Themistocles in some measures that were expedient,

and had got the better of him, he could not refrain from saying, when

he left the assembly, that unless they sent Themistocles and himself

to the barathrum, there could be no safety for Athens.  Another time,

when urging some proposal upon the people, though there were much

opposition and stirring against it, he yet was gaining the day; but

just as the president of the assembly was about to put it to the vote,

perceiving by what had been said in debate the inexpediency of his

advice, he let it fall.  Also he often brought in his bills by other

persons, lest Themistocles, through party spirit against him, should

be any hindrance to the good of the public.

In all the vicissitudes of public affairs, the constancy he showed was

admirable, not being elated with honors, and demeaning himself

tranquilly and sedately in adversity; holding the opinion that he

ought to offer himself to the service of his country without mercenary

news and irrespectively of any reward, not only of riches, but even of

glory itself.  Hence it came, probably, that at the recital of these

verses of Aeschylus in the theater, relating to Amphiaraus,

For not at seeming just, but being so

He aims; and from his depth of soil below,

Harvests of wise and prudent counsels grow,

the eyes of all the spectators turned on Aristides, as if this virtue,

in an especial manner, belonged to him.

He was a most determined champion for justice, not only against

feelings of friendship and favor, but wrath and malice.  Thus it is

reported of him that when prosecuting the law against one who was his

enemy, on the judges after accusation refusing to hear the criminal,

and proceeding immediately to pass sentence upon him, he rose in haste

from his seat and joined in petition with him for a hearing, and that

he might enjoy the privilege of the law.  Another time, when judging

between two private persons, on the one declaring his adversary had

very much injured Aristides; "Tell me rather, good friend," he said,

"what wrong he has done you:  for it is your cause, not my own, which

I now sit judge of."  Being chosen to the charge of the public

revenue, he made it appear that not only those of his time, but the

preceding officers, had alienated much treasure, and especially

Themistocles:—

Well known he was an able man to be,

But with his fingers apt to be too flee.

Therefore, Themistocles associating several persons against

Aristides, and impeaching him when he gave in his accounts, caused him

to be condemned of robbing the public; so Idomeneus states; but the

best and chiefest men of the city much resenting it, he was not only

exempted from the fine imposed upon him, but likewise again called to

the same employment.  Pretending now to repent him of his former

practice, and carrying himself with more remissness, he became

acceptable to such as pillaged the treasury, by not detecting or

calling them to an exact account.  So that those who had their fill of

the public money began highly to applaud Aristides, and sued to the

people, making interest to have him once more chosen treasurer.  But

when they were upon the point of election, he reproved the Athenians.

"When I discharged my office well and faithfully," said he, "I was

insulted and abused; but now that I have allowed the public thieves in

a variety of malpractices, I am considered an admirable patriot.  I am

more ashamed, therefore, of this present honor than of the former

sentence; and I commiserate your condition, with whom it is more

praiseworthy to oblige ill men than to conserve the revenue of the

public."  Saying thus, and proceeding to expose the thefts that had

been committed, he stopped the mouths of those who cried him up and

vouched for him, but gained real and true commendation from the best

men.

When Datis, being sent by Darius under pretense of punishing the

Athenians for their burning of Sardis, but in reality to reduce the

Greeks under his dominion, landed at Marathon and laid waste the

country, among the ten commanders appointed by the Athenians for the

war, Militiades was of the greatest name; but the second place, both

for reputation and power, was possessed by Aristides:  and when his

opinion to join battle was added to that of Miltiades, it did much to

incline the balance.  Every leader by his day having the command in

chief when it came to Aristides' turn, he delivered it into the hands

of Miltiades, showing his fellow officers, that it is not dishonorable

to obey and follow wise and able men, but, on the contrary, noble and

prudent.  So appeasing their rivalry, and bringing them to acquiesce

in one and the best advice, he confirmed Miltiades in the strength of

an undivided and unmolested authority.  For now everyone, yielding

his day of command, looked for orders only to him.  During the fight

the main body of the Athenians being the hardest put to it, the

barbarians, for a long time, making opposition there against the

tribes Leontis and Antiochis, Themistocles and Aristides being ranged

together, fought valiantly; the one being of the tribe Leontis, the

other of the Antiochis.  But after they had beaten the barbarians back

to their ships, and perceived that they sailed not for the isles, but

were driven in by the force of sea and wind towards the country of

Attica; fearing lest they should take the city, unprovided of defense,

they hurried away thither with nine tribes, and reached it the same

day.  Aristides, being left with his tribe at Marathon to guard the

plunder and prisoners, did not disappoint the opinion they had of him.

Amidst the profusion of gold and silver, all sorts of apparel, and

other property, more than can be mentioned, that were in the tents and

the vessels which they had taken, he neither felt the desire to meddle

with anything himself, nor suffered others to do it; unless it might

be some who took away anything unknown to him; as Callias, the

torchbearer, did.  One of the barbarians, it seems, prostrated

himself before this man, supposing him to be a king by his hair and

fillet; and, when he had so done, taking him by the hand, showed him a

great quantity of gold hid in a ditch.  But Callias, most cruel and

impious of men, took away the treasure, but slew the man, lest he

should tell of him.  Hence, they say, the comic poets gave his family

the name of Laccopluti, or enriched by the ditch, alluding to the

place where Callias found the gold.  Aristides, immediately after

this, was archon; although Demetrius, the Phalerian, says he held the

office a little before he died, after the battle of Plataea.  But in

the records of the successors of Xanthippides, in whose year Mardonius

was overthrown at Plataea, amongst very many there mentioned, there is

not so much as one of the same name as Aristides:  while immediately

after Phaenippus, during whose term of office they obtained the

victory of Marathon, Aristides is registered.

Of all his virtues, the common people were most affected with his

justice, because of its continual and common use; and thus, although

of mean fortune and ordinary birth, he possessed himself of the most

kingly and divine appellation of Just; which kings, however, and

tyrants have never sought after; but have taken delight to be surnamed

besiegers of cities, thunderers, conquerors, or eagles again, and

hawks ; affecting, it seems, the reputation which proceeds from power

and violence, rather than that of virtue.  Although the divinity, to

whom they desire to compare and assimilate themselves, excels, it is

supposed, in three things, immortality, power, and virtue; of which

three, the noblest and divinest is virtue.  For the elements and

vacuum have an everlasting existence; earthquakes, thunders, storms,

and torrents have great power; but in justice and equity nothing

participates except by means of reason and the knowledge of that which

is divine.  And thus, taking the three varieties of feeling commonly

entertained towards the deity, the sense of his happiness, fear, and

honor of him, people would seem to think him blest and happy for his

exemption from death and corruption, to fear and dread him for his

power and dominion, but to love, honor, and adore him for his justice.

Yet though thus disposed, they covet that immortality which our nature

is not capable of, and that power the greatest part of which is at the

disposal of fortune; but give virtue, the only divine good really in

our reach, the last place, most unwisely; since justice makes the life

of such as are in prosperity, power, and authority the life of a god,

and injustice turns it to that of a beast.

Aristides, therefore, had at first the fortune to be beloved for this

surname, but at length envied.  Especially when Themistocles spread a

rumor amongst the people, that, by determining and judging all matters

privately, he had destroyed the courts of judicature, and was secretly

making way for a monarchy in his own person, without the assistance of

guards.  Moreover, the spirit of the people, now grown high, and

confident with their late victory, naturally entertained feelings of

dislike to all of more than common fame and reputation.  Coming

together, therefore, from all parts into the city, they banished

Aristides by the ostracism, giving their jealousy of his reputation

the name of fear of tyranny.  For ostracism was not the punishment of

any criminal act, but was speciously said to be the mere depression

and humiliation of excessive greatness and power; and was in fact a

gentle relief and mitigation of envious feeling, which was thus

allowed to vent itself in inflicting no intolerable injury, only a ten

years' banishment.  But after it came to be exercised upon base and

villainous fellows, they desisted from it; Hyperbolus, being the last

whom they banished by the ostracism.

The cause of Hyperbolus's banishment is said to have been this.

Alcibiades and Nicias, men that bore the greatest sway in the city,

were of different factions.  As the people, therefore, were about to

vote the ostracism, and obviously to decree it against one of them,

consulting together and uniting their parties, they contrived the

banishment of Hyperbolus.  Upon which the people, being offended, as

if some contempt or affront was put upon the thing, left off and quite

abolished it.  It was performed, to be short, in this manner.  Every

one taking an ostracon, a sherd, that is, or piece of earthenware,

wrote upon it the citizen's name he would have banished, and carried

it to a certain part of the market-place surrounded with wooden rails.

First, the magistrates numbered all the sherds in gross (for if there

were less than six thousand, the ostracism was imperfect); then,

laying every name by itself, they pronounced him whose name was

written by the larger number, banished for ten years, with the

enjoyment of his estate.  As, therefore, they were writing the names

on the sherds, it is reported that an illiterate clownish fellow,

giving Aristides his sherd, supposing him a common citizen, begged him

to write Aristides upon it; and he being surprised and asking if

Aristides had ever done him any injury, "None at all," said he,

"neither know I the man; but I am tired of hearing him everywhere

called the Just."  Aristides, hearing this, is said to have made no

reply, but returned the sherd with his own name inscribed.  At his

departure from the city, lifting up his hands to heaven, he made a

prayer, (the reverse, it would seem, of that of Achilles,) that the

Athenians might never have any occasion which should constrain them to

remember Aristides.

Nevertheless, three years after, when Xerxes marched through Thessaly

and Boeotia into the country of Attica, repealing the law, they

decreed the return of the banished:  chiefly fearing Aristides, lest,

joining himself to the enemy, he should corrupt and bring over many of

his fellow-citizens to the party of the barbarians; much mistaking the

man, who, already before the decree, was exerting himself to excite

and encourage the Greeks to the defense of their liberty.  And

afterwards, when Themistocles was general with absolute power, he

assisted him in all ways both in action and counsel; rendering, in

consideration of the common security, the greatest enemy he had the

most glorious of men.  For when Eurybiades was deliberating to desert

the isle of Salamis, and the gallies of the barbarians putting out by

night to sea surrounded and beset the narrow passage and islands, and

nobody was aware how they were environed, Aristides, with great

hazard, sailed from Aegina through the enemy's fleet; and coming by

night to Themistocles's tent, and calling him out by himself; "If we

have any discretion," said he, "Themistocles, laying aside at this

time our vain and childish contention, let us enter upon a safe and

honorable dispute, vying with each other for the preservation of

Greece; you in the ruling and commanding, I in the subservient and

advising part; even, indeed, as I now understand you to be alone

adhering to the best advice, in counseling without any delay to engage

in the straits.  And in this, though our own party oppose, the enemy

seems to assist you.  For the sea behind, and all around us, is

covered with their fleet; so that we are under a necessity of

approving ourselves men of courage, and fighting, whether we will or

no; for there is no room left us for flight."  To which Themistocles

answered, "I would not willingly, Aristides, be overcome by you on

this occasion; and shall endeavor, in emulation of this good

beginning, to outdo it in my actions."  Also relating to him the

stratagem he had framed against the barbarians, he entreated him to

persuade Eurybiades and show him how it was impossible they should

save themselves without an engagement; as he was the more likely to be

believed.  Whence, in the council of war, Cleocritus, the Corinthian,

telling Themistocles that Aristides did not like his advice, as he was

present and said nothing, Aristides answered, That he should not have

held his peace if Themistocles had not been giving the best advice;

and that he was now silent not out of any good-will to the person, but

in approbation of his counsel.

Thus the Greek captains were employed.  But Aristides perceiving

Psyttalea, a small island that lies within the straits over against

Salamis, to be filled by a body of the enemy, put aboard his small

boats the most forward and courageous of his countrymen, and went

ashore upon it; and, joining battle with the barbarians, slew them

all, except such more remarkable persons as were taken alive.  Amongst

these were three children of Sandauce, the king's sister, whom he

immediately sent away to Themistocles, and it is stated that in

accordance with a certain oracle, they were, by the command of

Euphrantides, the seer, sacrificed to Bacchus, called Omestes, or the

devourer.  But Aristides, placing armed men all around the island, lay

in wait for such as were cast upon it, to the intent that none of his

friends should perish, nor any of his enemies escape.  For the closest

engagement of the ships, and the main fury of the whole battle, seems

to have been about this place; for which reason a trophy was erected

in Psyttalea.

After the fight, Themistocles, to sound Aristides, told him they had

performed a good piece of service, but there was a better yet to be

done, the keeping Asia in Europe, by sailing forthwith to the

Hellespont, and cutting in sunder the bridge.  But Aristides, with an

exclamation, bid him think no more of it, but deliberate and find out

means for removing the Mede, as quickly as possible, out of Greece;

lest being enclosed, through want of means to escape, necessity should

compel him to force his way with so great an army.  So Themistocles

once more dispatched Arnaces, the eunuch, his prisoner, giving him in

command privately to advertise the king that he had diverted the

Greeks from their intention of setting sail for the bridges, out of

the desire he felt to preserve him.

Xerxes, being much terrified with this, immediately hasted to the

Hellespont.  But Mardonius was left with the most serviceable part of

the army, about three hundred thousand men, and was a formidable

enemy, confident in his infantry, and writing messages of defiance to

the Greeks:  "You have overcome by sea men accustomed to fight on

land, and unskilled at the oar; but there lies now the open country of

Thessaly; and the plains of Boeotia offer a broad and worthy field for

brave men, either horse or foot, to contend in."  But he sent

privately to the Athenians, both by letter and word of mouth from the

king, promising to rebuild their city, to give them a vast sum of

money, and constitute them lords of all Greece on condition they were

not engaged in the war.  The Lacedaemonians, receiving news of this,

and fearing, dispatched an embassy to the Athenians, entreating that

they would send their wives and children to Sparta, and receive

support from them for their superannuated.  For, being despoiled both

of their city and country, the people were suffering extreme distress.

Having given audience to the ambassadors, they returned an answer,

upon the motion of Aristides, worthy of the highest admiration;

declaring, that they forgave their enemies if they thought all things

purchasable by wealth, than which they knew nothing of greater value;

but that they felt offended at the Lacedaemonians, for looking only to

their present poverty and exigence, without any remembrance of their

valor and magnanimity, offering them their victuals, to fight in the

cause of Greece.  Aristides, making this proposal and bringing back

the ambassadors into the assembly, charged them to tell the

Lacedaemonians that all the treasure on the earth or under it, was of

less value with the people of Athens, than the liberty of Greece.

And, showing the sun to those who came from Mardonius, "as long as

that retains the same course, so long," said he, "shall the citizens

of Athens wage war with the Persians for the country which has been

wasted, and the temples that have been profaned and burnt by them."

Moreover, he proposed a decree, that the priests should anathematize

him who sent any herald to the Medes, or deserted the alliance of

Greece.

When Mardonius made a second incursion into the country of Attica, the

people passed over again into the isle of Salamis.  Aristides, being

sent to Lacedaemon, reproved them for their delay and neglect in

abandoning Athens once more to the barbarians; and demanded their

assistance for that part of Greece, which was not yet lost.  The

Ephori, hearing this, made show of sporting all day, and of carelessly

keeping holy day, (for they were then celebrating the Hyacinthian

festival,) but in the night, selecting five thousand Spartans, each of

whom was attended by seven Helots, they sent them forth unknown to

those from Athens.  And when Aristides again reprehended them, they

told him in derision that he either doted or dreamed, for the army was

already at Oresteum, in their march towards the strangers; as they

called the Persians.  Aristides answered that they jested

unseasonably, deluding their friends, instead of their enemies.  Thus

says Idomeneus.  But in the decree of Aristides, not himself, but

Cimon, Xanthippus, and Myronides are appointed ambassadors.

Being chosen general for the war, he repaired to Plattea, with eight

thousand Athenians, where Pausanias, generalissimo of all Greece,

joined him with the Spartans; and the forces of the other Greeks came

in to them.  The whole encampment of the barbarians extended all along

the bank of the river Asopus, their numbers being so great, there was

no enclosing them all, but their baggage and most valuable things were

surrounded with a square bulwark, each side of which was the length of

ten furlongs.

Tisamenus, the Elean, had prophesied to Pausanias and all the Greeks,

and foretold them victory if they made no attempt upon the enemy, but

stood on their defense.  But Aristides sending to Delphi, the god

answered, that the Athenians should overcome their enemies, in case

they made supplication to Jupiter and Juno of Cithaeron, Pan, and the

nymphs Sphragitides, and sacrificed to the heroes Androcrates, Leucon,

Pisander, Damocrates, Hypsion, Actaeon, and Polyidus; and if they

fought within their own territories in the plain of Ceres Eleusinia

and Proserpine.  Aristides was perplexed upon the tidings of this

oracle:  since the heroes to whom it commanded him to sacrifice had

been chieftains of the Plataeans, and the cave of the nymphs

Sphragitides was on the top of Mount Cithaeron, on the side facing the

setting sun of summer time; in which place, as the story goes, there

was formerly an oracle, and many that lived in the district were

inspired with it, whom they called Nympholepti, possessed with the

nymphs.  But the plain of Ceres Eleusinia, and the offer of victory to

the Athenians, if they fought in their own territories, recalled them

again, and transferred the war into the country of Attica.  In this

juncture, Arimnestus, who commanded the Plataeans, dreamed that

Jupiter, the Saviour, asked him what the Greeks had resolved upon; and

that he answered, "Tomorrow, my Lord, we march our army to Eleusis,

and there give the barbarians battle according to the directions of

the oracle of Apollo."  And that the god replied, they were utterly

mistaken, for that the places spoken of by the oracle were within the

bounds of Plataea, and if they sought there they should find them.

This manifest vision having appeared to Arimnestus, when he awoke he

sent for the most aged and experienced of his countrymen, with whom

communicating and examining the matter, he found that near Hysiae, at

the foot of Mount Cithaeron, there was a very ancient temple called

the temple of Ceres Eleusinia and Proserpine.  He therefore forthwith

took Aristides to the place, which was very convenient for drawing up

an army of foot, because the slopes at the bottom of the mountain

Cithaeron rendered the plain, where it comes up to the temple, unfit

for the movements of cavalry.  Also, in the same place, there was the

fane of Androcrates, environed with a thick shady grove.  And that the

oracle might be accomplished in all particulars for the hope of

victory, Arimnestus proposed, and the Plataeans decreed, that the

frontiers of their country towards Attica should be removed, and the

land given to the Athenians, that they might fight in defense of

Greece in their own proper territory.  This zeal and liberality of the

Plataeans became so famous, that Alexander, many years after, when he

had obtained the dominion of all Asia, upon erecting the walls of

Plataea, caused proclamation to be made by the herald at the Olympic

games, that the king did the Plataeans this favor in consideration of

their nobleness and magnanimity, because, in the war with the Medes,

they freely gave up their land and zealously fought with the Greeks.

The Tegeatans, contesting the post of honor with the Athenians,

demanded, that, according to custom, the Lacedaemonians being ranged

on the right wing of the battle, they might have the left, alleging

several matters in commendation of their ancestors.  The Athenians

being indignant at the claim, Aristides came forward; "To contend with

the Tegeatans," said he, "for noble descent and valor, the present

time permits not:  but this we say to you, O you Spartans, and you the

rest of the Greeks, that place neither takes away nor contributes

courage:  we shall endeavor by crediting and maintaining the post you

assign us, to reflect no dishonor on our former performances.  For we

are come, not to differ with our friends, but to fight our enemies;

not to extol our ancestors, but ourselves to behave as valiant men.

This battle will manifest how much each city, captain, and private

soldier is worth to Greece."  The council of war, upon this address,

decided for the Athenians, and gave them the other wing of the battle.

All Greece being in suspense, and especially the affairs of the

Athenians unsettled, certain persons of great families and possessions

having been impoverished by the war, and seeing all their authority

and reputation in the city vanished with their wealth, and others in

possession of their honors and places, convened privately at a house

in Plataea, and conspired for the dissolution of the democratic

government; and, if the plot should not succeed, to ruin the cause and

betray all to the barbarians.  These matters being in agitation in the

camp, and many persons already corrupted, Aristides, perceiving the

design, and dreading the present juncture of time, determined neither

to let the business pass unanimadverted upon, nor yet altogether to

expose it; not knowing how many the accusation might reach, and

willing to set bounds to his justice with a view to the public

convenience.  Therefore, of many that were concerned, he apprehended

eight only, two of whom, who were first proceeded against and most

guilty, Aeschines of Lampra, and Agesias of Acharnae, made their

escape out of the camp.  The rest he dismissed; giving opportunity to

such as thought themselves concealed, to take courage and repent;

intimating that they had in the war a great tribunal, where they might

clear their guilt by manifesting their sincere and good intentions

towards their country.

After this, Mardonius made trial of the Grecian courage, by sending

his whole number of horse, in which he thought himself much the

stronger, against them, while they were all pitched at the foot of

Mount Cithaeron, in strong and rocky places, except the Megarians.

They, being three thousand in number, were encamped on the plain,

where they were damaged by the horse charging and making inroads upon

them on all hands.  They sent, therefore, in haste to Pausanias,

demanding relief, as not being able alone to sustain the great numbers

of the barbarians.  Pausanias, hearing this, and perceiving the tents

of the Megarians already hid by the multitude of darts and arrows, and

themselves driven together into a narrow space, was at a loss himself

how to aid them with his battalion of heavy-armed Lacedaemonians.  He

proposed it, therefore, as a point of emulation in valor and love of

distinction, to the commanders and captains who were around him, if

any would voluntarily take upon them the defense and succor of the

Megarians.  The rest being backward, Aristides undertook the

enterprise for the Athenians, and sent Olympiodorus, the most valiant

of his inferior officers, with three hundred chosen men and some

archers under his command.  These being soon in readiness, and running

upon the enemy, as soon as Masistius, who commanded the barbarians'

horse, a man of wonderful courage and of extraordinary bulk and

comeliness of person, perceived it, turning his steed he made towards

them.  And they sustaining the shock and joining battle with him,

there was a sharp conflict, as though by this encounter they were to

try the success of the whole war.  But after Masistius's horse

received a wound, and flung him, and he falling could hardly raise

himself through the weight of his armor, the Athenians, pressing upon

him with blows, could not easily get at his person, armed as he was,

his breast, his head, and his limbs all over, with gold and brass and

iron; but one of them at last, running him in at the visor of his

helmet, slew him; and the rest of the Persians, leaving the body, fled.

The greatness of the Greek success was known, not by the multitude of

the slain, (for an inconsiderable number were killed,) but by the

sorrow the barbarians expressed.  For they shaved themselves, their

horses, and mules for the death of Masistius, and filled the plain

with howling and lamentation; having lost a person, who, next to

Mardonius himself, was by many degrees the chief among them, both for

valor and authority.

After this skirmish of the horse, they kept from fighting a long time;

for the soothsayers, by the sacrifices, foretold the victory both to

Greeks and Persians, if they stood upon the defensive part only, but

if they became aggressors, the contrary.  At length Mardonius, when he

had but a few days' provision, and the Greek forces increased

continually by some or other that came in to them, impatient of delay,

determined to lie still no longer, but, passing Asopus by daybreak, to

fall unexpectedly upon the Greeks; and signified the same over night

to the captains of his host.  But about midnight, a certain horseman

stole into the Greek camp, and coming to the watch, desired them to

call Aristides, the Athenian, to him.  He coming speedily; "I am,"

said the stranger, "Alexander, king of the Macedonians, and am arrived

here through the greatest danger in the world for the good-will I bear

you, lest a sudden onset should dismay you, so as to behave in the

fight worse than usual.  For tomorrow Mardonius will give you battle,

urged, not by any hope of success or courage, but by want of victuals;

since, indeed, the prophets prohibit him the battle, the sacrifices

and oracles being unfavorable; and the army is in despondency and

consternation; but necessity forces him to try his fortune, or sit

still and endure the last extremity of want."  Alexander, thus saying,

entreated Aristides to take notice and remember him, but not to tell

any other.  But he told him, it was not convenient to conceal the

matter from Pausanias (because he was general); as for any other, he

would keep it secret from them till the battle was fought; but if the

Greeks obtained the victory, that then no one should be ignorant of

Alexander's good-will and kindness towards them.  After this, the king

of the Macedonians rode back again, and Aristides went to Pausanias's

tent and told him; and they sent for the rest of the captains and gave

orders that the army should be in battle array.

Here, according to Herodotus, Pausanias spoke to Aristides, desiring

him to transfer the Athenians to the right wing of the army opposite

to the Persians, (as they would do better service against them, having

been experienced in their way of combat, and emboldened with former

victories,) and to give him the left, where the Medizing Greeks were

to make their assault.  The rest of the Athenian captains regarded

this as an arrogant and interfering act on the part of Pausanias;

because, while permitting the rest of the army to keep their stations,

he removed them only from place to place, like so many Helots,

opposing them to the greatest strength of the enemy.  But Aristides

said, they were altogether in the wrong.  If so short a time ago they

contested the left wing with the Tegeatans, and gloried in being

preferred before them, now, when the Lacedaemonians give them place in

the right, and yield them in a manner the leading of the army, how is

it they are discontented with the honor that is done them, and do not

look upon it as an advantage to have to fight, not against their

countrymen and kindred, but barbarians, and such as were by nature

their enemies?  After this, the Athenians very readily changed places

with the Lacedaemonians, and there went words amongst them as they

were encouraging each other, that the enemy approached with no better

arms or stouter hearts than those who fought the battle of Marathon;

but had the same bows and arrows, and the same embroidered coats and

gold, and the same delicate bodies and effeminate minds within; "while

we have the same weapons and bodies, and our courage augmented by our

victories; and fight not like others in defense of our country only,

but for the trophies of Salamis and Marathon; that they may not be

looked upon as due to Miltiades or fortune, but to the people of

Athens."  Thus, therefore, were they making haste to change the order

of their battle.  But the Thebans, understanding it by some deserters,

forthwith acquainted Mardonius; and he, either for fear of the

Athenians, or a desire to engage the Lacedaemonians, marched over his

Persians to the other wing, and commanded the Greeks of his party to

be posted opposite to the Athenians.  But this change was observed on

the other side, and Pausanias, wheeling about again, ranged himself on

the right, and Mardonius, also, as at first, took the left wing over

against the Lacedaemonians.  So the day passed without action.

After this, the Greeks determined in council to remove their camp some

distance, to possess themselves of a place convenient for watering;

because the springs near them were polluted and destroyed by the

barbarian cavalry.  But night being come, and the captains setting out

towards the place designed for their encamping, the soldiers were not

very ready to follow, and keep in a body, but, as soon as they had

quitted their first entrenchments, made towards the city of Plataea;

and there was much tumult and disorder as they dispersed to various

quarters and proceeded to pitch their tents.  The Lacedaemonians,

against their will, had the fortune to be left by the rest.  For

Amompharetus, a brave and daring man, who had long been burning with

desire of the fight, and resented their many lingerings and delays,

calling the removal of the camp a mere running away and flight,

protested he would not desert his post, but would there remain with

his company, and sustain the charge of Mardonius.  And when Pausanias

came to him and told him he did these things by the common vote and

determination of the Greeks, Amompharetus taking up a great stone and

flinging it at Pausanias' feet, and "by this token," said he, "do I

give my suffrage for the battle, nor have I any concern with the

cowardly consultations and decrees of other men."  Pausanias, not

knowing what to do in the present juncture, sent to the Athenians, who

were drawing off, to stay to accompany him; and so he himself set off

with the rest of the army for Plataea, hoping thus to make

Amompharetus move.

Meantime, day came upon them; and Mardonius (for he was not ignorant

of their deserting their camp) having his army in array, fell upon the

Lacedaemonians with great shouting and noise of barbarous people, as

if they were not about to join battle, but crush the Greeks in their

flight.  Which within a very little came to pass.  For Pausanias,

perceiving what was done, made a halt, and commanded every one to put

themselves in order for the battle; but either through his anger with

Amompharetus, or the disturbance he was in by reason of the sudden

approach of the enemy, he forgot to give the signal to the Greeks in

general.  Whence it was, that they did not come in immediately, or in

a body, to their assistance, but by small companies and straggling,

when the fight was already begun.  Pausanias, offering sacrifice,

could not procure favorable omens, and so commanded the

Lacedaemonians, setting down their shields at their feet to abide

quietly and attend his directions, making no resistance to any of

their enemies.  And, he sacrificing again a second time, the horse

charged, and some of the Lacedaemonians were wounded.  At this time,

also, Callicrates, who, we are told, was the most comely man in the

army, being shot with an arrow and upon the point of expiring, said,

that he lamented not his death (for he came from home to lay down his

life in the defense of Greece) but that he died without action.  The

case was indeed hard, and the forbearance of the men wonderful; for

they let the enemy charge without repelling them; and, expecting their

proper opportunity from the gods and their general, suffered

themselves to be wounded and slain in their ranks.  And some say, that

while Pausanias was at sacrifice and prayers, some space out of the

battle-array, certain Lydians, falling suddenly upon him, plundered

and scattered the sacrifice:  and that Pausanias and his company,

having no arms, beat them with staves and whips; and that in imitation

of this attack, the whipping the boys about the altar, and after it

the Lydian procession, are to this day practiced in Sparta.

Pausanias, therefore, being troubled at these things, while the priest

went on offering one sacrifice after another, turns himself towards

the temple with tears in his eyes, and, lifting up his hands to

heaven, besought Juno of Cithaeron, and the other tutelar gods of the

Plataeans, if it were not in the fates for the Greeks to obtain the

victory, that they might not perish, without performing some

remarkable thing, and by their actions demonstrating to their enemies,

that they waged war with men of courage, and soldiers.  While

Pausanias was thus in the act of supplication, the sacrifices appeared

propitious, and the soothsayers foretold victory.  The word being

given, the Lacedaemonian battalion of foot seemed, on the sudden, like

some one fierce animal, setting up his bristles, and betaking himself

to the combat; and the barbarians perceived that they encountered with

men who would fight it to the death.  Therefore, holding their

wicker-shields before them, they shot their arrows amongst the

Lacedaemonians.  But they, keeping together in the order of a phalanx,

and falling upon the enemies, forced their shields out of their hands,

and, striking with their pikes at the breasts and faces of the

Persians, overthrew many of them; who, however, fell not either

unrevenged or without courage.  For taking hold of the spears with

their bare hands, they broke many of them, and betook themselves not

without effect to the sword; and making use of their falchions and

scimitars, and wresting the Lacedaemonians' shields from them, and

grappling with them, it was a long time that they made resistance.

Meanwhile, for some time, the Athenians stood still, waiting for the

Lacedaemonians to come up.  But when they heard much noise as of men

engaged in fight, and a messenger, they say, came from Pausanias, to

advertise them of what was going on, they soon hasted to their

assistance.  And as they passed through the plain to the place where

the noise was, the Greeks, who took part with the enemy, came upon

them.  Aristides, as soon as he saw them, going a considerable space

before the rest, cried out to them, conjuring them by the guardian

gods of Greece to forbear the fight, and be no impediment or stop to

those, who were going to succor the defenders of Greece.  But when he

perceived they gave no attention to him, and had prepared themselves

for the battle, then turning from the present relief of the

Lacedaemonians, he engaged them, being five thousand in number.  But

the greatest part soon gave way and retreated, as the barbarians also

were put to flight.  The sharpest conflict is said to have been

against the Thebans, the chiefest and most powerful persons among them

at that time siding zealously with the Medes, and leading the

multitude not according to their own inclinations, but as being

subjects of an oligarchy.

The battle being thus divided, the Lacedaemonians first beat off the

Persians; and a Spartan, named Arimnestus, slew Mardonius by a blow on

the head with a stone, as the oracle in the temple of Amphiaraus had

foretold to him.  For Mardonius sent a Lydian thither, and another

person, a Carian, to the cave of Trophonius.  This latter, the priest of

the oracle answered in his own language.  But the Lydian sleeping in

the temple of Amphiaraus, it seemed to him that a minister of the

divinity stood before him and commanded him to be gone; and on his

refusing to do it, flung a great stone at his head, so that he thought

himself slain with the blow.  Such is the story. — They drove the

fliers within their walls of wood; and, a little time after, the

Athenians put the Thebans to flight, killing three hundred of the

chiefest and of greatest note among them in the actual fight itself.

For when they began to fly, news came that the army of the barbarians

was besieged within their palisade:  and so giving the Greeks

opportunity to save themselves, they marched to assist at the

fortifications; and coming in to the Lacedaemonians, who were

altogether unhandy and inexperienced in storming, they took the camp

with great slaughter of the enemy.  For of three hundred thousand,

forty thousand only are said to have escaped with Artabazus; while on

the Greeks' side there perished in all thirteen hundred and sixty:  of

which fifty-two were Athenians, all of the tribe Aeantis, that fought,

says Clidemus, with the greatest courage of any; and for this reason

the men of this tribe used to offer sacrifice for the victory, as

enjoined by the oracle, to the nymphs Sphragitides at the expense of

the public:  ninety-one were Lacedaemonians and sixteen Tegeatans.  It

is strange, therefore, upon what grounds Herodotus can say, that they

only, and none other, encountered the enemy; for the number of the

slain and their monuments testify that the victory was obtained by all

in general; and if the rest had been standing still, while the

inhabitants of three cities only had been engaged in the fight, they

would not have set on the altar the inscription:  —

The Greeks, when by their courage and their might,

They had repelled the Persian in the fight,

The common altar of freed Greece to be,

Reared this to Jupiter who guards the free.

They fought this battle on the fourth day of the month Boedromion,

according to the Athenians, but according to the Boeotians, on the

twenty-seventh of Panemus; — on which day there is still a convention

of the Greeks at Plataea, and the Plataeans still offer sacrifice for

the victory to Jupiter of freedom.  As for the difference of days, it

is not to be wondered at, since even at the present time, when there

is a far more accurate knowledge of astronomy, some begin the month at

one time, and some at another.

After this, the Athenians not yielding the honor of the day to the

Lacedaemonians, nor consenting they should erect a trophy, things were

not far from being ruined by dissension amongst the armed Greeks; had

not Aristides, by much soothing and counseling the commanders,

especially Leocrates and Myronides, pacified and persuaded them to

leave the thing to the decision of the Greeks.  And on their

proceeding to discuss the matter, Theogiton, the Megarian, declared

the honor of the victory was to be given some other city, if they

would prevent a civil war; after him Cleocritus of Corinth rising up,

made people think he would ask the palm for the Corinthians, (for next

to Sparta and Athens, Corinth was in greatest estimation); but he

delivered his opinion, to the general admiration, in favor of the

Plataeans; and counseled to take away all contention by giving them

the reward and glory of the victory, whose being honored could be

distasteful to neither party.  This being said, first Aristides gave

consent in the name of the Athenians, and Pausanias, then, for the

Lacedaemonians.  So, being reconciled, they set apart eighty talents

for the Plataeans, with which they built the temple and dedicated the

image to Minerva, and adorned the temple with pictures, which even to

this very day retain their luster.  But the Lacedaemonians and

Athenians each erected a trophy apart by themselves.  On their

consulting the oracle about offering sacrifice, Apollo answered that

they should dedicate an altar to Jupiter of freedom, but should not

sacrifice till they had extinguished the fires throughout the country,

as having been defiled by the barbarians, and had kindled unpolluted

fire at the common altar at Delphi.  The magistrates of Greece,

therefore, went forthwith and compelled such as had fire to put it

out; and Euchidas, a Plataean, promising to fetch fire, with all

possible speed, from the altar of the god, went to Delphi, and having

sprinkled and purified his body, crowned himself with laurel; and

taking the fire from the altar ran back to Plataea, and got back there

before sunset, performing in one day a journey of a thousand furlongs;

and saluting his fellow-citizens and delivering them the fire, he

immediately fell down, and in a short time after expired.  But the

Plataeans, taking him up, interred him in the temple of Diana Euclia,

setting this inscription over him:  "Euchidas ran to Delphi and back

again in one day."  Most people believe that Euclia is Diana, and call

her by that name.  But some say she was the daughter of Hercules, by

Myrto, the daughter of Menoetius, and sister of Patroclus, and, dying

a virgin, was worshipped by the Boeotians and Locrians.  Her altar and

image are set up in all their marketplaces, and those of both sexes

that are about marrying, sacrifice to her before the nuptials.

A general assembly of all the Greeks being called, Aristides proposed

a decree, that the deputies and religious representatives of the Greek

states should assemble annually at Plataea, and every fifth year

celebrate the Eleutheria, or games of freedom.  And that there should

be a levy upon all Greece, for the war against the barbarians, of ten

thousand spearmen, one thousand horse, and a hundred sail of ships;

but the Plataeans to be exempt, and sacred to the service of the gods,

offering sacrifice for the welfare of Greece.  These things begin

ratified, the Plataeans undertook the performance of annual sacrifice

to such as were slain and buried in that place; which they still

perform in the following manner.  On the sixteenth day of Maemacterion

(which with the Boeotians is Alalcomenus) they make their procession,

which, beginning by break of day, is led by a trumpeter sounding for

onset; then follow certain chariots loaded with myrrh and garlands;

and then a black bull; then come the young men of free birth carrying

libations of wine and milk in large two-handed vessels, and jars of

oil and precious ointments, none of servile condition being permitted

to have any hand in this ministration, because the men died in defense

of freedom; after all comes the chief magistrate of Plataea, (for whom

it is unlawful at other times either to touch iron, or wear any other

colored garment but white,) at that time appareled in a purple robe;

and, taking a water-pot out of the city record-office, he proceeds,

bearing a sword in his hand, through the middle of the town to the

sepulchres.  Then drawing water out of a spring, he washes and anoints

the monument, and sacrificing the bull upon a pile of wood, and

making supplication to Jupiter and Mercury of the earth, invites those

valiant men who perished in the defense of Greece, to the banquet and

the libations of blood.  After this, mixing a bowl of wine, and

pouring out for himself, he says, "I drink to those who lost their

lives for the liberty of Greece."  These solemnities the Plataeans

observe to this day.

Aristides perceived that the Athenians, after their return into the

city, were eager for a democracy; and deeming the people to deserve

consideration on account of their valiant behavior, as also that it

was a matter of difficulty, they being well armed, powerful, and full

of spirit with their victories, to oppose them by force, he brought

forward a decree, that every one might share in the government, and

the archons be chosen out of the whole body of the Athenians.  And on

Themistocles telling the people in assembly that he had some advice

for them, which could not be given in public, but was most important

for the advantage and security of the city, they appointed Aristides

alone to hear and consider it with him.  And on his acquainting

Aristides that his intent was to set fire to the arsenal of the

Greeks, for by that means should the Athenians become supreme masters

of all Greece, Aristides, returning to the assembly, told them, that

nothing was more advantageous than what Themistocles designed, and

nothing more unjust.  The Athenians, hearing this, gave Themistocles

order to desist; such was the love of justice felt by the people, and

such the credit and confidence they reposed in Aristides.

Being sent in joint commission with Cimon to the war, he took notice

that Pausanias and the other Spartan captains made themselves

offensive by imperiousness and harshness to the confederates; and by

being himself gentle and considerate with them and by the courtesy and

disinterested temper which Cimon, after his example, manifested in the

expeditions, he stole away the chief command from the Lacedaemonians,

neither by weapons, ships, or horses, but by equity and wise policy.

For the Athenians being endeared to the Greeks by the justice of

Aristides and by Cimon's moderation, the tyranny and selfishness of

Pausanias rendered them yet more desirable.  He on all occasions

treated the commanders of the confederates haughtily and roughly; and

the common soldiers he punished with stripes, or standing under the

iron anchor for a whole day together; neither was it permitted for any

to provide straw for themselves to lie on, or forage for their horses,

or to come near the springs to water before the Spartans were

furnished, but servants with whips drove away such as approached.  And

when Aristides once was about to complain and expostulate with

Pausanias, he told him, with an angry look, that he was not at

leisure, and gave no attention to him.  The consequence was that the

sea captains and generals of the Greeks, in particular, the Chians,

Samians, and Lesbians, came to Aristides and requested him to be their

general, and to receive the confederates into his command, who had

long desired to relinquish the Spartans and come over to the

Athenians.  But he answered, that he saw both equity and necessity in

what they said, but their fidelity required the test of some action,

the commission of which would make it impossible for the multitude to

change their minds again.  Upon which Uliades, the Samian, and

Antagoras of Chios, conspiring together, ran in near Byzantium on

Pausanias's galley, getting her between them as she was sailing before

the rest.  But when Pausanias, beholding them, rose up and furiously

threatened soon to make them know that they had been endangering not

his galley, but their own countries, they bid him go his way, and

thank Fortune that fought for him at Plataea; for hitherto, in

reverence to that, the Greeks had forborne from indicting on him the

punishment he deserved.  In fine, they all went off and joined the

Athenians.  And here the magnanimity of the Lacedaemonians was

wonderful.  For when they perceived that their generals were becoming

corrupted by the greatness of their authority, they voluntarily laid

down the chief command, and left off sending any more of them to the

wars, choosing rather to have citizens of moderation and consistent in

the observance of their customs, than to possess the dominion of all

Greece.

Even during the command of the Lacedaemonians, the Greeks paid a

certain contribution towards the maintenance of the war; and being

desirous to be rated city by city in their due proportion, they

desired Aristides of the Athenians, and gave him command, surveying

the country and revenue, to assess every one according to their

ability and what they were worth.  But he, being so largely empowered,

Greece as it were submitting all her affairs to his sole management,

went out poor, and returned poorer; laying the tax not only without

corruption and injustice, but to the satisfaction and convenience of

all.  For as the ancients celebrated the age of Saturn, so did the

confederates of Athens Aristides's taxation, terming it the happy time

of Greece; and that more especially, as the sum was in a short time

doubled, and afterwards trebled.  For the assessment which Aristides

made, was four hundred and sixty talents.  But to this Pericles added

very near one third part more; for Thucydides says, that in the

beginning of the Peloponnesian war, the Athenians had coming in from

their confederates six hundred talents.  But after Pericles's death,

the demagogues, increasing by little and little, raised it to the sum

of thirteen hundred talents; not so much through the war's being so

expensive and chargeable either by its length or ill success, as by

their alluring the people to spend upon largesses and play-house

allowances, and in erecting statues and temples.  Aristides,

therefore, having acquired a wonderful and great reputation by this

levy of the tribute, Themistocles is said to have derided him, as if

this had been not the commendation of a man, but a money-bag; a

retaliation, though not in the same kind, for some free words which

Aristides had used.  For he, when Themistocles once was saying that he

thought the highest virtue of a general was to understand and foreknow

the measures the enemy would take, replied, "This, indeed,

Themistocles, is simply necessary, but the excellent thing in a

general is to keep his hands from taking money."

Aristides, moreover, made all the people of Greece swear to keep the

league, and himself took the oath in the name of the Athenians,

flinging wedges of red hot iron into the sea, after curses against

such as should make breach of their vow.  But afterwards, it would

seem, when things were in such a state as constrained them to govern

with a stronger hand, he bade the Athenians to throw the perjury upon

him, and manage affairs as convenience required.  And, in general,

Theophrastus tells us, that Aristides was, in his own private affairs,

and those of his fellow-citizens, rigorously just, but that in public

matters he acted often in accordance with his country's policy, which

demanded, sometimes, not a little injustice.  It is reported of him

that he said in a debate, upon the motion of the Samians for removing

the treasure from Delos to Athens, contrary to the league, that the

thing indeed was not just, but was expedient.

In fine, having established the dominion of his city over so many

people, he himself remained indigent; and always delighted as much in

the glory of being poor, as in that of his trophies; as is evident

from the following story.  Callias, the torchbearer, was related to

him:  and was prosecuted by his enemies in a capital cause, in which,

after they had slightly argued the matters on which they indicted him,

they proceeded, beside the point, to address the judges:  "You know,"

said they, "Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, who is the admiration of

all Greece.  In what a condition do you think his family is in at his

house, when you see him appear in public in such a threadbare cloak?

Is it not probable that one who, out of doors, goes thus exposed to

the cold, must want food and other necessaries at home?  Callias, the

wealthiest of the Athenians, does nothing to relieve either him or his

wife and children in their poverty, though he is his own cousin, and

has made use of him in many cases, and often reaped advantage by his

interest with you."  But Callias, perceiving the judges were moved

more particularly by this, and were exasperated against him, called in

Aristides, requiring him to testify that when he frequently offered

him divers presents, and entreated him to accept them, he had refused,

answering, that it became him better to be proud of his poverty than

Callias of his wealth:  since there are many to be seen that make a

good, or a bad use of riches, but it is difficult, comparatively, to

meet with one who supports poverty in a noble spirit; those only

should be ashamed of it who incurred it against their wills.  On

Aristides deposing these facts in favor of Callias, there was none who

heard them, that went not away desirous rather to be poor like

Aristides, than rich as Callias.  Thus Aeschines, the scholar of

Socrates, writes.  But Plato declares, that of all the great and

renowned men in the city of Athens, he was the only one worthy of

consideration; for Themistocles, Cimon, and Pericles filled the city

with porticoes, treasure, and many other vain things, but Aristides

guided his public life by the rule of justice.  He showed his

moderation very plainly in his conduct towards Themistocles himself.

For though Themistocles had been his adversary in all his

undertakings, and was the cause of his banishment, yet when he

afforded a similar opportunity of revenge, being accused to the city,

Aristides bore him no malice; but while Alcmaeon, Cimon, and many

others, were prosecuting and impeaching him, Aristides alone, neither

did, nor said any ill against him, and no more triumphed over his

enemy in his adversity, than he had envied him his prosperity.

Some say Aristides died in Pontus, during a voyage upon the affairs of

the public.  Others that he died of old age at Athens, being in great

honor and veneration amongst his fellow-citizens.  But Craterus, the

Macedonian, relates his death as follows.  After the banishment of

Themistocles, he says, the people growing insolent, there sprung up a

number of false and frivolous accusers, impeaching the best and most

influential men and exposing them to the envy of the multitude, whom

their good fortune and power had filled with self-conceit.  Amongst

these, Aristides was condemned of bribery, upon the accusation of

Diophantus of Amphitrope, for taking money from the Ionians when he

was collector of the tribute; and being unable to pay the fine, which

was fifty minae, sailed to Ionia, and died there.  But of this

Craterus brings no written proof, neither the sentence of his

condemnation, nor the decree of the people; though in general it is

tolerably usual with him to set down such things and to cite his

authors.  Almost all others who have spoken of the misdeeds of the

people towards their generals, collect them all together, and tell us

of the banishment of Themistocles, Miltiades's bonds, Pericles's fine,

and the death of Paches in the judgment hall, who, upon receiving

sentence, killed himself on the hustings, with many things of the like

nature.  They add the banishment of Aristides; but of this his

condemnation, they make no mention.

Moreover, his monument is to be seen at Phalerum, which they say was

built him by the city, he not having left enough even to defray

funeral charges.  And it is stated, that his two daughters were

publicly married out of the prytaneum, or state-house, by the city,

which decreed each of them three thousand drachmas for her portion;

and that upon his son Lysimachus, the people bestowed a hundred minas

of money, and as many acres of planted land, and ordered him besides,

upon the motion of Alcibiades, four drachmas a day.  Furthermore,

Lysimachus leaving a daughter, named Polycrite, as Callisthenes says,

the people voted her, also, the same allowance for food with those

that obtained the victory in the Olympic Games.  But Demetrius the

Phalerian, Hieronymus the Rhodian, Aristoxenus the musician, and

Aristotle, (if the Treatise of Nobility is to be reckoned among the

genuine pieces of Aristotle,) say that Myrto, Aristides's

granddaughter, lived with Socrates the philosopher, who indeed had

another wife, but took her into his house, being a widow, by reason of

her indigence, and want of the necessaries of life.  But Panaetius

sufficiently confutes this in his books concerning Socrates.

Demetrius the Phalerian, in his Socrates, says, he knew one

Lysimachus, son to the daughter of Aristides, extremely poor, who used

to sit near what is called the Iaccheum, and sustained himself by a

table for interpreting dreams; and that, upon his proposal and

representations, a decree was passed by the people, to give the mother

and aunt of this man half a drachma a day.  The same Demetrius, when

he was legislating himself, decreed each of these women a drachma per

diem.  And it is not to be wondered at, that the people of Athens

should take such care of people living in the city, since hearing the

granddaughter of Aristogiton was in a low condition in the isle of

Lemnos, and so poor nobody would marry her they brought her back to

Athens, and, marrying her to a man of good birth, gave a farm at

Potamus as her marriage-portion; and of similar humanity and bounty

the city of Athens, even in our age, has given numerous proofs, and is

justly admired and respected in consequence.

MARCUS CATO

Marcus Cato, we are told, was born at Tusculum, though (till he

betook himself to civil and military affairs) he lived and was bred

up in the country of the Sabines, where his father's estate lay.  His

ancestors seeming almost entirely unknown, he himself praises his

father Marcus, as a worthy man and a brave soldier, and Cato, his

great grandfather too, as one who had often obtained military prizes,

and who, having lost five horses under him, received, on the account

of his valor, the worth of them out of the public exchequer.  Now it

being the custom among the Romans to call those who, having no repute

by birth, made themselves eminent by their own exertions, new men or

upstarts, they called even Cato himself so, and so he confessed

himself to be as to any public distinction or employment, but yet

asserted that in the exploits and virtues of his ancestors he was

very ancient.  His third name originally was not Cato, but Priscus,

though afterwards he had the surname of Cato, by reason of his

abilities; for the Romans call a skillful or experienced man, Catus.

He was of a ruddy complexion, and gray-eyed; as the writer, who, with

no good-will, made the following epigram upon him, lets us see:—

Porcius, who snarls at all in every place,

With his gray eyes, and with his fiery face,

Even after death will scarce admitted be

Into the infernal realms by Hecate.

He gained, in early life, a good habit of body by working with his

own hands, and living temperately, and serving in war; and seemed to

have an equal proportion troth of health and strength.  And he

exerted and practiced his eloquence through all the neighborhood and

little villages; thinking it as requisite as a second body, and an

all but necessary organ to one who looks forward to something above a

mere humble and inactive life.  He would never refuse to be counsel

for those who needed him, and was, indeed, early reckoned a good

lawyer, and, ere long, a capable orator.

Hence his solidity and depth of character showed itself gradually,

more and more to those with whom he was concerned, and claimed, as it

were, employment in great affairs, and places of public command.  Nor

did he merely abstain from taking fees for his counsel and pleading,

but did not even seem to put any high price on the honor which

proceeded from such kind of combats, seeming much more desirous to

signalize himself in the camp and in real fights; and while yet but a

youth, had his breast covered with scars he had received from the

enemy; being (as he himself says) but seventeen years old, when he

made his first campaign; in the time when Hannibal, in the height of

his success, was burning and pillaging all Italy.  In engagements he

would strike boldly, without flinching, stand firm to his ground, fix

a bold countenance upon his enemies, and with a harsh threatening

voice accost them, justly thinking himself and telling others, that

such a rugged kind of behavior sometimes terrifies the enemy more

than the sword itself.  In his marches, he bore his own arms on foot,

whilst one servant only followed, to carry the provisions for his

table, with whom he is said never to have been angry or hasty, whilst

he made ready his dinner or supper, but would, for the most part,

when he was free from military duty, assist and help him himself to

dress it.  When he was with the army, he used to drink only water;

unless, perhaps, when extremely thirsty, he might mingle it with a

little vinegar; or if he found his strength fail him, take a little

wine.

The little country house of Manius Curius, who had been thrice

carried in triumph, happened to be near his farm; so that often going

thither, and contemplating the small compass of the place, and

plainness of the dwelling, he formed an idea of the mind of the

person, who, being one of the greatest of the Romans, and having

subdued the most warlike nations, nay, had driven Pyrrhus out of

Italy, now, after three triumphs, was contented to dig in so small a

piece of ground, and live in such a cottage.  Here it was that the

ambassadors of the Samnites, finding him boiling turnips in the

chimney corner, offered him a present of gold; but he sent them away

with this saying; that he, who was content with such a supper, had no

need of gold; and that he thought it more honorable to conquer those

who possessed the gold, than to possess the gold itself.  Cato, after

reflecting upon these things, used to return, and reviewing his own

farm, his servants, and housekeeping, increase his labor, and

retrench all superfluous expenses.

When Fabius Maximus took Tarentum, Cato, being then but a youth, was

a soldier under him; and being lodged with one Nearchus, a

Pythagorean, desired to understand some of his doctrine, and hearing

from him the language, which Plato also uses, — that pleasure is

evil's chief bait; the body the principal calamity of the soul; and

that those thoughts which most separate and take it off from the

affections of the body, most enfranchise and purify it; he fell in

love the more with frugality and temperance.  With this exception, he

is said not to have studied Greek until when he was pretty old; and

rhetoric, to have then profited a little by Thucydides, but more by

Demosthenes:  his writings, however, are considerably embellished

with Greek sayings and stories; nay, many of these, translated word

for word, are placed with his own apothegms and sentences.

There was a man of the highest rank, and very influential among the

Romans, called Valerius Flaccus, who was singularly skillful in

discerning excellence yet in the bud, and, also, much disposed to

nourish and advance it.  He, it seems, had lands bordering upon

Cato's; nor could he but admire, when he understood from his servants

the manner of his living, how he labored with his own hands, went on

foot betimes in the morning to the courts to assist those who wanted

his counsel; how, returning home again, when it was winter, he would

throw a loose frock  over his shoulders, and in the summer time

would work without anything on among his domestics, sit down with

them, eat of the same bread, and drink of the same wine.  When they

spoke, also, of other good qualities, his fair dealing and

moderation, mentioning also some of his wise sayings, he ordered,

that he should be invited to supper; and thus becoming personally

assured of his fine temper and his superior character which, like a

plant, seemed only to require culture and a better situation, he

urged and persuaded him to apply himself to state affairs at Rome.

Thither, therefore, he went, and by his pleading soon gained many

friends and admirers; but, Valerius chiefly assisting his promotion,

he first of all got appointed tribune in the army, and afterwards was

made quaestor, or treasurer.  And now becoming eminent and noted, he

passed, with Valerius himself, through the greatest commands, being

first his colleague as consul, and then censor.  But among all the

ancient senators, he most attached himself to Fabius Maximus; not so

much for the honor of his person, and greatness of his power, as that

he might have before him his habit and manner of life, as the best

examples to follow:  and so he did not hesitate to oppose Scipio the

Great, who, being then but a young man, seemed to set himself against

the power of Fabius, and to be envied by him.  For being sent

together with him as treasurer, when he saw him, according to his

natural custom, make great expenses, and distribute among the

soldiers without sparing, he freely told him that the expense in

itself was not the greatest thing to be considered, but that he was

corrupting the ancient frugality of the soldiers, by giving them the

means to abandon themselves to unnecessary pleasures and luxuries.

Scipio answered, that he had no need for so accurate a treasurer,

(bearing on as he was, so to say, full sail to the war,) and that he

owed the people an account of his actions, and not of the money he

spent.  Hereupon Cato returned from Sicily, and, together with

Fabius, made loud complaints in the open senate of Scipio's lavishing

unspeakable sums, and childishly loitering away his time in wrestling

matches and comedies, as if he were not to make war, but holiday; and

thus succeeded in getting some of the tribunes of the people sent to

call him back to Rome, in case the accusations should prove true.

But Scipio demonstrating, as it were, to them, by his preparations,

the coming victory, and, being found merely to be living pleasantly

with his friends, when there was nothing else to do, but in no

respect because of that easiness and liberality at all the more

negligent in things of consequence and moment, without impediment,

set sail towards the war.

Cato grew more and more powerful by his eloquence, so that he was

commonly called the Roman Demosthenes; but his manner of life was yet

more famous and talked of.  For oratorical skill was, as an

accomplishment, commonly studied and sought after by all young men;

but he was very rare who would cultivate the old habits of bodily

labor, or prefer a light supper, and a breakfast which never saw the

fire; or be in love with poor clothes and a homely lodging, or could

set his ambition rather on doing without luxuries than on possessing

them.  For now the state, unable to keep its purity by reason of its

greatness, and having so many affairs, and people from all parts

under its government, was fain to admit many mixed customs, and new

examples of living.  With reason, therefore, everybody admired Cato,

when they saw others sink under labors, and grow effeminate by

pleasures; and yet beheld him unconquered by either, and that not

only when he was young and desirous of honor, but also when old and

greyheaded, after a consulship and triumph; like some famous victor

in the games, persevering in his exercise and maintaining his

character to the very last.  He himself says, that he never wore a

suit of clothes which cost more than a hundred drachmas; and that,

when he was general and consul, he drank the same wine which his

workmen did; and that the meat or fish which was bought in the market

for his dinner, did not cost above thirty asses.  All which was for

the sake of the commonwealth, that so his body might be the hardier

for the war.  Having a piece of embroidered Babylonian tapestry left

him, he sold it; because none of his farm-houses were so much as

plastered.  Nor did he ever buy a slave for above fifteen hundred

drachmas; as he did not seek for effeminate and handsome ones, but

able, sturdy workmen, horse-keepers and cow-herds:  and these he

thought ought to be sold again, when they grew old, and no useless

servants fed in a house.  In short, he reckoned nothing a good

bargain, which was superfluous; but whatever it was, though sold for

a farthing, he would think it a great price, if you had no need of it;

and was for the purchase of lands for sowing and feeding, rather than

grounds for sweeping and watering.

Some imputed these things to petty avarice, but others approved of

him, as if he had only the more strictly denied himself for the

rectifying and amending of others.  Yet certainly, in my judgment, it

marks an over-rigid temper, for a man to take the work out of his

servants as out of brute beasts, turning them off and selling them in

their old age, and thinking there ought to be no further commerce

between man and man, than whilst there arises some profit by it.  We

see that kindness or humanity has a larger field than bare justice to

exercise itself in; law and justice we cannot, in the nature of

things, employ on others than men; but we may extend our goodness and

charity even to irrational creatures; and such acts flow from a

gentle nature, as water from an abundant spring.  It is doubtless the

part of a kind-natured man to keep even worn-out horses and dogs, and

not only take care of them when they are foals and whelps, but also

when they are grown old.  The Athenians, when they built their

Hecatompedon, turned those mules loose to feed freely, which they

had observed to have done the hardest labor.  One of these (they say)

came once of itself to offer its service, and ran along with, nay,

and went before, the teams which drew the wagons up to the acropolis,

as if it would incite and encourage them to draw more stoutly; upon

which there passed a vote, that the creature should be kept at the

public charge even till it died.  The graves of Cimon's horses, which

thrice won the Olympian races, are yet to be seen close by his own

monument.  Old Xanthippus, too, (amongst many others who buried the

dogs they had bred up,) entombed his which swam after his galley to

Salamis, when the people fled from Athens, on the top of a cliff,

which they call the dog's tomb to this day.  Nor are we to use living

creatures like old shoes or dishes, and throw them away when they are

worn out or broken with service; but if it were for nothing else, but

by way of study and practice in humanity, a man ought always to

prehabituate himself in these things to be of a kind and sweet

disposition.  As to myself, I would not so much as sell my draught ox

on the account of his age, much less for a small piece of money sell

a poor old man, and so chase him, as it were, from his own country,

by turning him not only out of the place where he has lived a long

while, but also out of the manner of living he has been accustomed

to, and that more especially when he would be as useless to the buyer

as to the seller.  Yet Cato for all this glories that he left that

very horse in Spain, which he used in the wars when he was consul,

only because he would not put the public to the charge of his

freight.  Whether these acts are to be ascribed to the greatness or

pettiness of his spirit, let every one argue as they please.

For his general temperance, however, and self-control, he really

deserves the highest admiration.  For when he commanded the army, he

never took for himself, and those that belonged to him, above three

bushels of wheat for a month, and somewhat less than a bushel and a

half a day of barley for his baggage-cattle.  And when he entered

upon the government of Sardinia, where his predecessors had been used

to require tents, bedding, and clothes upon the public account, and

to charge the state heavily with the cost of provisions and

entertainments for a great train of servants and friends, the

difference he showed in his economy was something incredible.  There

was nothing of any sort for which he put the public to expense; he

would walk without a carriage to visit the cities, with one only of

the common town officers, who carried his dress, and a cup to offer

libation with.  Yet, though he seemed thus easy and sparing to all

who were under his power, he, on the other hand, showed most

inflexible severity and strictness, in what related to public

justice, and was rigorous, and precise in what concerned the

ordinances of the commonwealth; so that the Roman government, never

seemed more terrible, nor yet more mild, than under his

administration.

His very manner of speaking seemed to have such a kind of idea with

it; for it was courteous, and yet forcible; pleasant, yet

overwhelming; facetious, yet austere; sententious, and yet vehement:

like Socrates, in the description of Plato, who seemed outwardly to

those about him to be but a simple, talkative, blunt fellow; whilst

at the bottom he was full of such gravity and matter, as would even

move tears, and touch the very hearts of his auditors.  And,

therefore, I know not what has persuaded some to say, that Cato's

style was chiefly like that of Lysias.  However, let us leave those

to judge of these things, who profess most to distinguish between the

several kinds of oratorical style in Latin; whilst we write down some

of his memorable sayings; being of the opinion that a man's character

appears much more by his words, than, as some think it does, by his

looks.

Being once desirous to dissuade the common people of Rome, from their

unseasonable and impetuous clamor for largesses and distributions of

corn, he began thus to harangue them:  "It is a difficult task, O

citizens, to make speeches to the belly, which has no ears."

Reproving, also, their sumptuous habits, he said, it was hard to

preserve a city, where a fish sold for more than an ox.  He had a

saying, also, that the Roman people were like sheep; for they, when

single, do not obey, but when altogether in a flock, they follow

their leaders:  "So you," said he, "when you have got together in a

body, let yourselves be guided by those whom singly you would never

think of being advised by."  Discoursing of the power of women:

"Men," said he, "usually command women; but we command all men, and

the women command us."  But this, indeed, is borrowed from the

sayings of Themistocles, who, when his son was making many demands of

him by means of the mother, said, "O woman, the Athenians govern the

Greeks; I govern the Athenians, but you govern me, and your son

governs you; so let him use his power sparingly, since, simple as he

is, he can do more than all the Greeks together."  Another saying of

Cato's was, that the Roman people did not only fix the value of such

and such purple dyes, but also of such and such habits of life:

"For," said he, "as dyers most of all dye such colors as they see to

be most agreeable, so the young men learn, and zealously affect what

is most popular with you."  He also exhorted them, that if they were

grown great by their virtue and temperance, they should not change

for the worse; but if intemperance and vice had made them great, they

should change for the better; for by that means they were grown

indeed quite great enough.  He would say, likewise, of men who wanted

to be continually in office, that apparently they did not know their

road; since they could not do without beadles to guide them on it.

He also reproved the citizens for choosing still the same men as

their magistrates:  "For you will seem," said he, "either not to

esteem government worth much, or to think few worthy to hold it."

Speaking, too, of a certain enemy of his, who lived a very base and

discreditable life:  "It is considered," he said, "rather as a curse

than a blessing on him, that this fellow's mother prays that she may

leave him behind her."  Pointing at one who had sold the land which

his father had left him, and which lay near the sea-side, he

pretended to express his wonder at his being stronger even than the

sea itself; for what it washed away with a great deal of labor, he

with a great deal of ease drank away.  When the senate, with a great

deal of splendor, received king Eumenes on his visit to Rome, and the

chief citizens strove who should be most about him, Cato appeared to

regard him with suspicion and apprehension; and when one that stood

by, too, took occasion to say, that he was a very good prince, and a

great lover of the Romans:  "It may be so," said Cato, "but by nature

this same animal of a king, is a kind of man-eater;" nor, indeed,

were there ever kings who deserved to be compared with Epaminondas,

Pericles, Themistocles, Manius Curius, or Hamilcar, surnamed Barcas.

He used to say, too, that his enemies envied him; because he had to

get up every day before light, and neglect his own business to follow

that of the public.  He would also tell you, that he had rather be

deprived of the reward for doing well, than not to suffer the

punishment for doing ill; and that he could pardon all offenders but

himself.

The Romans having sent three ambassadors to Bithynia, of whom one was

gouty, another had his skull trepanned, and the other seemed little

better than a fool; Cato, laughing, gave out, that the Romans had

sent an embassy, which had neither feet, head, nor heart. His

interest being entreated by Scipio, on account of Polybius, for the

Achaean exiles, and there happening to be a great discussion in the

senate about it, some being for, and some against their return; Cato,

standing up, thus delivered himself:  "Here do we sit all day long,

as if we had nothing to do, but beat our brains whether these old

Greeks should be carried to their graves by the bearers here or by

those in Achaea."  The senate voting their return, it seems that a

few days after Polybius's friends further wished that it should be

moved in the senate, that the said banished persons should receive

again the honors which they first had in Achaea; and, to this

purpose, they sounded Cato for his opinion; but he, smiling,

answered, that Polybius, Ulysses-like, having escaped out of the

Cyclops' den, wanted, it would seem, to go back again because he had

left his cap and belt behind him. He used to assert, also, that wise

men profited more by fools, than fools by wise men; for that wise men

avoided the faults of fools, but that fools would not imitate the

good examples of wise men.  He would profess, too, that he was more

taken with young men that blushed, than with those who looked pale;

and that he never desired to have a soldier that moved his hands too

much in marching, and his feet too much in fighting; or snored louder

than he shouted.  Ridiculing a fat overgrown man:  "What use," said

he, "can the state turn a man's body to, when all between the throat

and groin is taken up by the belly?"  When one who was much given to

pleasures desired his acquaintance, begging his pardon, he said, he

could not live with a man whose palate was of a quicker sense than

his heart.  He would likewise say, that the soul of a lover lived in

the body of another:  and that in his whole life he most repented of

three things; one was, that he had trusted a secret to a woman;

another, that he went by water when he might have gone by land; the

third, that he had remained one whole day without doing any business

of moment. Applying himself to an old man who was committing some

vice:  "Friend," said he, "old age has of itself blemishes enough; do

not you add to it the deformity of vice."  Speaking to a tribune, who

was reputed a poisoner, and was very violent for the bringing in of a

bill, in order to make a certain law:  "Young man," cried he, "I know

not which would be better, to drink what you mix, or confirm what you

would put up for a law."  Being reviled by a fellow who lived a

profligate and wicked life:  "A contest," replied he, "is unequal

between you and me; for you can hear ill words easily, and can as

easily give them; but it is unpleasant to me to give such, and

unusual to hear them."  Such was his manner of expressing himself in

his memorable sayings.

Being chosen consul, with his friend and familiar Valerius Flaccus,

the government of that part of Spain which the Romans call the Hither

Spain, fell to his lot.  Here, as he was engaged in reducing some of

the tribes by force, and bringing over others by good words, a large

army of barbarians fell upon him, so that there was danger of being

disgracefully forced out again.  He therefore called upon his

neighbors, the Celtiberians, for help; and on their demanding two

hundred talents for their assistance, everybody else thought it

intolerable, that ever the Romans should promise barbarians a reward

for their aid; but Cato said, there was no discredit or harm in it;

for if they overcame, they would pay them out of the enemy's purse,

and not out of their own; but if they were overcome, there would be

nobody left either to demand the reward or to pay it.  However, he

won that battle completely, and after that, all his other affairs

succeeded splendidly.  Polybius says, that by his command the walls

of all the cities, on this side the river Baetis, were in one day's

time demolished, and yet there were a great many of them full of

brave and warlike men.  Cato himself says, that he took more cities

than he stayed days in Spain.  Neither is this a mere rhodomontade,

if it be true, that the number was four hundred.  And though the

soldiers themselves had got much in the fights, yet he distributed a

pound of silver to every man of them, saying, it was better, that

many of the Romans should return home with silver, rather than a few

with gold.  For himself he affirms, that of all the things that were

taken, nothing came to him beyond what he ate and drank.  "Neither do

I find fault," continued he, "with those that seek to profit by these

spoils, but I had rather compete in valor with the best, than in

wealth with the richest, or with the most covetous in love of money."

Nor did he merely keep himself clear from taking anything, but even

all those who more immediately belonged to him.  He had five servants

with him in the army; one of whom called Paccus, bought three boys,

out of those who were taken captive; which Cato coming to understand,

the man rather than venture into his presence, hanged himself.  Cato

sold the boys, and carried the price he got for them into the public

exchequer.

Scipio the Great, being his enemy, and desiring, whiles he was

carrying all things so successfully, to obstruct him, and take the

affairs of Spain into his own hands, succeeded in getting himself

appointed his successor in the government, and, making all possible

haste, put a term to Cato's authority.  But he, taking with him a

convoy of five cohorts of foot, and five hundred horse to attend him

home, overthrew by the way the Lacetanians, and salting from them six

hundred deserters, caused them all to be beheaded; upon which Scipio

seemed to be in indignation, but Cato, in mock disparagement of

himself, said, "Rome would become great indeed, if the most honorable

and great men would not yield up the first place of valor to those

who were more obscure, and when they who were of the commonalty (as

he himself was) would contend in valor with those who were most

eminent in birth and honor."  The senate having voted to change

nothing of what had been established by Cato, the government passed

away under Scipio to no manner of purpose, in idleness and doing

nothing; and so diminished his credit much more than Cato's.  Nor did

Cato, who now received a triumph, remit after this and slacken the

reins of virtue, as many do, who strive not so much for virtue's

sake, as for vainglory, and having attained the highest honors, as

the consulship and triumphs, pass the rest of their life in pleasure

and idleness, and quit all public affairs.  But he, like those who

are just entered upon public life for the first time, and thirst

after gaining honor and glory in some new office, strained himself,

as if he were but just setting out; and offering still publicly his

service to his friends and citizens, would give up neither his

pleadings nor his soldiery.

He accompanied and assisted Tiberius Sempronius, as his lieutenant,

when he went into Thrace and to the Danube; and, in the quality of

tribune, went with Manius Acilius into Greece, against Antiochus the

Great, who, after Hannibal, more than anyone struck terror into the

Romans.  For having reduced once more under a single command almost

the whole of Asia, all, namely, that Seleucus Nicator had possessed,

and having brought into obedience many warlike nations of the

barbarians, he longed to fall upon the Romans, as if they only were

now worthy to fight with him.  So across he came with his forces,

pretending, as a specious cause of the war, that it was to free the

Greeks, who had indeed no need of it, they having been but newly

delivered from the power of king Philip and the Macedonians, and made

independent, with the free use of their own laws, by the goodness of

the Romans themselves; so that all Greece was in commotion and

excitement, having been corrupted by the hopes of royal aid which the

popular leaders in their cities put them into.  Manius, therefore,

sent ambassadors to the different cities; and Titus Flamininus (as is

written in the account of him) suppressed and quieted most of the

attempts of the innovators, without any trouble.  Cato brought over

the Corinthians, those of Patrae and of Aegium, and spent a good deal

of time at Athens.  There is also an oration of his said to be

extant, which he spoke in Greek to the people; in which he expressed

his admiration of the virtue of the ancient Athenians, and signified

that he came with a great deal of pleasure to be a spectator of the

beauty and greatness of their city.  But this is a fiction; for he

spoke to the Athenians by an interpreter, though he was able to have

spoken himself; but he wished to observe the usage of his own

country, and laughed at those who admired nothing but what was in

Greek.  Jesting upon Postumius Albinus, who had written a historical

work in Greek, and requested that allowances might be made for his

attempt, he said, that allowance indeed might be made, if he had done

it under the express compulsion of an Amphictyonic decree.  The

Athenians, he says, admired the quickness and vehemence of his

speech; for an interpreter would be very long in repeating what he

expressed with a great deal of brevity; but on the whole he professed

to believe, that the words of the Greeks came only from their lips,

whilst those of the Romans came from their hearts.

Now Antiochus, having occupied with his army the narrow passages

about Thermopylae, and added palisades and walls to the natural

fortifications of the place, sat down there, thinking he had done

enough to divert the war; and the Romans, indeed, seemed wholly to

despair of forcing the passage; but Cato, calling to mind the compass

and circuit which the Persians had formerly made to come at this

place, went forth in the night, taking along with him part of the

army.  Whilst they were climbing up, the guide, who was a prisoner,

missed the way, and wandering up and down by impracticable and

precipitous paths, filled the soldiers with fear and despondency.

Cato, perceiving the danger, commanded all the rest to halt, and stay

where they were, whilst he himself, taking along with him one Lucius

Manlius, a most expert man at climbing mountains, went forward with a

great deal of labor and danger, in the dark night, and without the

least moonshine, among the wild olive trees, and steep craggy rocks,

there being nothing but precipices and darkness before their eyes,

till they struck into a little pass which they thought might lead

down into the enemy's camp.  There they put up marks upon some

conspicuous peaks which surmount the hill called Callidromon, and

returning again, they led the army along with them to the said marks,

till they got into their little path again, and there once made a

halt; but when they began to go further, the path deserted them at a

precipice, where they were in another strait and fear; nor did they

perceive that they were all this while near the enemy.  And now the

day began to give some light, when they seemed to hear a noise, and

presently after to see the Greek trenches and the guard at the foot

of the rock.  Here, therefore, Cato halted his forces, and commanded

the troops from Firmum only, without the rest, to stick by him, as he

had always found them faithful and ready.  And when they came up and

formed around him in close order, he thus spoke to them.  "I desire,"

he said, "to take one of the enemy alive, that so I may understand

what men these are who guard the passage; their number; and with what

discipline, order, and preparation they expect us; but this feat,"

continued he, "must be an act of a great deal of quickness and

boldness, such as that of lions, when they dart upon some timorous

animal."  Cato had no sooner thus expressed himself, but the Firmans

forthwith rushed down the mountain, just as they were, upon the

guard, and, falling unexpectedly upon them, affrighted and dispersed

them all.  One armed man they took, and brought to Cato, who quickly

learned from him, that the rest of the forces lay in the narrow

passage about the king; that those who kept the tops of the rocks

were six hundred choice Aetolians.  Cato, therefore, despising the

smallness of their number and carelessness, forthwith drawing his

sword, fell upon them with a great noise of trumpets and shouting.

The enemy, perceiving them thus tumbling, as it were, upon them from

the precipices, flew to the main body, and put all things into

disorder there.

In the meantime, whilst Manius was forcing the works below, and

pouring the thickest of his forces into the narrow passages,

Antiochus was hit in the mouth with a stone, so that his teeth being

beaten out by it, he felt such excessive pain, that he was fain to

turn away with his horse; nor did any part of his army stand the

shock of the Romans.  Yet, though there seemed no reasonable hope of

flight, where all paths were so difficult, and where there were deep

marshes and steep rocks, which looked as if they were ready to

receive those who should stumble, the fugitives, nevertheless,

crowding and pressing together.  In the narrow passages, destroyed even

one another in their terror of the swords and blows of the enemy.  Cato

(as it plainly appears) was never oversparing of his own praises, and

seldom shunned boasting of any exploit; which quality, indeed, he

seems to have thought the natural accompaniment of great actions; and

with these particular exploits he was highly puffed up; he says, that

those who saw him that day pursuing and slaying the enemies, were

ready to assert, that Cato owed not so much to the public, as the

public did to Cato; nay, he adds, that Manius the consul, coming hot

from the fight, embraced him for a great while, when both were all in

a sweat; and then cried out with joy, that neither he himself, no,

nor all the people together, could make him a recompense equal to his

actions.  After the fight he was sent to Rome, that he himself might

be the messenger of it; and so, with a favorable wind, he sailed to

Brundusium, and in one day got from thence to Tarentum; and having

traveled four days more, upon the fifth, counting from the time of

his landing, he arrived at Rome, and so brought the first news of the

victory himself; and filled the whole city with joy and sacrifices,

and the people with the belief, that they were able to conquer every

sea and every land.

These are pretty nearly all the eminent actions of Cato, relating to

military affairs:  in civil policy, he was of opinion, that one chief

duty consisted in accusing and indicting criminals.  He himself

prosecuted many, and he would also assist others who prosecuted them,

nay would even procure such, as he did the Petilii against Scipio;

but not being able to destroy him, by reason of the nobleness of his

family, and the real greatness of his mind, which enabled him to

trample all calumnies underfoot, Cato at last would meddle no more

with him; yet joining with the accusers against Scipio's brother

Lucius, he succeeded in obtaining a sentence against him, which

condemned him to the payment of a large sum of money to the state;

and being insolvent, and in danger of being thrown into jail, he was,

by the interposition of the tribunes of the people, with much ado

dismissed.  It is also said of Cato, that when he met a certain

youth, who had effected the disgrace of one of his father's enemies,

walking in the market-place, he shook him by the hand, telling him,

that this was what we ought to sacrifice to our dead parents— not

lambs and goats, but the tears and condemnations of their

adversaries.  But neither did he himself escape with impunity in his

management of affairs; for if he gave his enemies but the least hold,

he was still in danger, and exposed to be brought to justice.  He is

reported to have escaped at least fifty indictments; and one above

the rest, which was the last, when he was eighty-six years old, about

which time he uttered the well-known saying, that it was hard for him

who had lived with one generation of men, to plead now before

another.  Neither did he make this the last of his lawsuits; for,

four years after, when he was fourscore and ten, he accused Servilius

Galba:  so that his life and actions extended, we may say, as

Nestor's did, over three ordinary ages of man.  For, having had many

contests, as we have related, with Scipio the Great, about affairs of

state, he continued them down even to Scipio the younger, who was the

adopted grandson of the former, and the son of that Paulus, who

overthrew Perseus and the Macedonians.

Ten years after his consulship, Cato stood for the office of censor,

which was indeed the summit of all honor, and in a manner the highest

step in civil affairs; for besides all other power, it had also that

of an inquisition into everyone's life and manners.  For the Romans

thought that no marriage, or rearing of children, nay, no feast or

drinking-bout ought to be permitted according to everyone's appetite

or fancy, without being examined and inquired into; being indeed of

opinion, that a man's character was much sooner perceived in things

of this sort, than in what is done publicly and in open day.  They

chose, therefore, two persons, one out of the patricians, the other

out of the commons, who were to watch, correct, and punish, if any

one ran too much into voluptuousness, or transgressed the usual

manner of life of his country; and these they called Censors.  They

had power to take away a horse, or expel out of the senate any one

who lived intemperately and out of order.  It was also their business

to take an estimate of what everyone was worth, and to put down in

registers everybody's birth and quality; besides many other

prerogatives.  And therefore the chief nobility opposed his

pretensions to it.  Jealousy prompted the patricians, who thought

that it would be a stain to everybody's nobility, if men of no

original honor should rise to the highest dignity and power; while

others, conscious of their own evil practices, and of the violation

of the laws and customs of their country, were afraid of the

austerity of the man; which, in an office of such great power was

likely to prove most uncompromising and severe.  And so consulting

among themselves, they brought forward seven candidates in opposition

to him, who sedulously set themselves to court the people's favor by

fair promises, as though what they wished for was indulgent and easy

government.  Cato, on the contrary, promising no such mildness, but

plainly threatening evil livers, from the very hustings openly

declared himself; and exclaiming, that the city needed a great and

thorough purgation, called upon the people, if they were wise, not to

choose the gentlest, but the roughest of physicians; such a one, he

said, he was, and Valerius Flaccus, one of the patricians, another;

together with him, he doubted not but he should do something worth

the while, and that, by cutting to pieces and burning like a hydra,

all luxury and voluptuousness.  He added, too, that he saw all the rest

endeavoring after the office with ill intent, because they were

afraid of those who would exercise it justly, as they ought.  And so

truly great and so worthy of great men to be its leaders was, it

would seem, the Roman people, that they did not fear the severity end

grim countenance of Cato, but rejecting those smooth promisers who

were ready to do all things to ingratiate themselves, they took him,

together with Flaccus; obeying his recommendations not as though he

were a candidate, but as if he had had the actual power of commanding

and governing already.

Cato named as chief of the senate, his friend and colleague Lucius

Valerius Flaccus, and expelled, among many others, Lucius Quintius,

who had been consul seven years before, and (which was greater honor

to him than the consulship) brother to that Titus Flamininus, who

overthrew king Philip.  The reason he had for his expulsion, was

this.  Lucius, it seems, took along with him in all his commands, a

youth, whom he had kept as his companion from the flower of his age,

and to whom he gave as much power and respect as to the chiefest of

his friends and relations.

Now it happened that Lucius being consular governor of one of the

provinces, the youth setting himself down by him, as he used to do,

among other flatteries with which he played upon him, when he wee in

his cups, told him he loved him so dearly that, "though there was a

show of gladiators to be seen at Rome, and I," he said, "had never

beheld one in my life; and though I, as it were, longed to see a man

killed, yet I made all possible haste to come to you."  Upon this

Lucius, returning his fondness, replied, "Do not be melancholy on

that account; I can remedy that."  Ordering therefore, forthwith, one

of those condemned to die to be brought to the feast, together with

the headsman and axe, he asked the youth if he wished to see him

executed.  The boy answering that he did, Lucius commanded the

executioner to cut off his neck; and this several historians mention;

and Cicero, indeed, in his dialogue de Senectute, introduces Cato

relating it himself.  But Livy says, that he that was killed was a

Gaulish deserter, and that Lucius did not execute him by the stroke

of the executioner, but with his own hand; and that it is so stated

in Cato's speech.

Lucius being thus expelled out of the senate by Cato, his brother

took it very ill, and appealing to the people, desired that Cato

should declare his reasons; and when he began to relate this

transaction of the feast, Lucius endeavored to deny it; but Cato

challenging him to a formal investigation, he fell off and refused

it, so that he was then acknowledged to suffer deservedly.

Afterwards, however, when there was some show at the theater, he

passed by the seats where those who had been consuls used to be

placed, and taking his seat a great way off, excited the compassion

of the common people, who presently with a great noise made him go

forward, and as much as they could, tried to set right and salve over

what had happened.  Manilius, also, who, according to the public

expectation, would have been next consul, he threw out of the senate,

because, in the presence of his daughter, and in open day, he had

kissed his wife.  He said, that as for himself, his wife never came

into his arms except when there was great thunder; so that it was a

jest with him, that it was a pleasure for him, when Jupiter

thundered.

His treatment of Lucius, likewise, the brother of Scipio, and one who

had been honored with a triumph, occasioned some odium against Cato;

for he took his horse from him, and was thought to do it with a

design of putting an affront on Scipio Africanus, now dead.  But he

gave most general annoyance, by retrenching people's luxury; for

though (most of the youth being thereby already corrupted) it seemed

almost impossible to take it away with an open hand and directly, yet

going, as it were, obliquely around, he caused all dress, carriages,

women's ornaments, household furniture, whose price exceeded one

thousand five hundred drachmas, to be rated at ten times as much as

they were worth; intending by thus making the assess-ments greater,

to increase the taxes paid upon them.  He also ordained that upon

every thousand asses of property of this kind, three should be

paid, so that people, burdened with these extra charges, and seeing

others of as good estates, but more frugal and sparing, paying less

into the public exchequer, might be tired out of their prodigality.

And thus, on the one side, not only those were disgusted at Cato, who

bore the taxes for the sake of their luxury, but those, too, who on

the other side laid by their luxury for fear of the taxes.  For people

in general reckon, that an order not to display their riches, is

equivalent to the taking away their riches; because riches are seen

much more in superfluous, than in necessary, things.  Indeed, this

was what excited the wonder of Ariston the philosopher; that we

account those who possess superfluous things more happy than those

who abound with what is necessary and useful.  But when one of his

friends asked Scopas, the rich Thessalian, to give him some article

of no great utility, saying that it was not a thing that he had any

great need or use for himself, "In truth," replied he, "it is just

these useless and unnecessary things that make my wealth and

happiness."  Thus the desire of riches does not proceed from a

natural passion within us, but arises rather from vulgar out-of-doors

opinion of other people.

Cato, notwithstanding, being little solicitous as to those who

exclaimed against him, increased his austerity.  He caused the pipes,

through which some persons brought the public water into their own

houses and gardens, to be cut, and threw down all buildings which

jutted out into the common streets.  He beat down also the price in

contracts for public works to the lowest, and raised it in contracts

for farming the taxes to the highest sum; by which proceedings he

drew a great deal of hatred on himself.  Those who were of Titus

Flamininus's party canceled in the senate all the bargains and

contracts made by him for the repairing and carrying on of the sacred

and public buildings, as unadvantageous to the commonwealth.  They

incited also the boldest of the tribunes of the people to accuse him,

and to fine him two talents.  They likewise much opposed him in

building the court or basilica, which he caused to be erected at the

common charge, just by the senate-house, in the market-place, and

called by his own name, the Porcian.  However, the people, it seems,

liked his censorship wondrously well; for, setting up a statue for

him in the temple of the goddess of Health, they put an inscription

under it, not recording his commands in war or his triumph, but to

the effect, that this was Cato the Censor, who, by his good

discipline and wise and temperate ordinances, reclaimed the Roman

commonwealth when it was declining and sinking down into vice.

Before this honor was done to himself, he used to laugh at those who

loved such kind of things, saying, that they did not see that they

were taking pride in the workmanship of brass-founders and painters;

whereas the citizens bore about his best likeness in their breasts.

And when any seemed to wonder, that he should have never a statue,

while many ordinary persons had one; "I would," said he, "much rather

be asked, why I have not one, than why I have one."  In short, he

would not have any honest citizen endure to be praised, except it

might prove advantageous to the commonwealth.  Yet still he had

passed the highest commendation on himself; for he tells us that

those who did anything wrong, and were found fault with, used to

say, it was not worthwhile to blame them; for they were not Catos.

He also adds, that they who awkwardly mimicked some of his actions,

were called left-handed Catos; and that the senate in perilous times

would cast their eyes on him, as upon a pilot in a ship, and that

often when he was not present they put off affairs of greatest

consequence.  These things are indeed also testified of him by

others; for he had a great authority in the city, alike for his life,

his eloquence, and his age.

He was also a good father, an excellent husband to his wife, and an

extraordinary economist; and as he did not manage his affairs of this

kind carelessly, and as things of little moment, I think I ought to

record a little further whatever was commendable in him in these

points.  He married a wife more noble than rich; being of opinion

that the rich and the high-born are equally haughty and proud; but

that those of noble blood, would be more ashamed of base things, and

consequently more obedient to their husbands in all that was fit and

right.  A man who beat his wife or child, laid violent hands, he

said, on what was most sacred; and a good husband he reckoned worthy

of more praise than a great senator; and he admired the ancient

Socrates for nothing so much as for having lived a temperate and

contented life with a wife who was a scold, and children who were

half-witted.

As soon as he had a son born, though he had never such urgent

business upon his hands, unless it were some public matter, he would

be by when his wife washed it, and dressed it in its swaddling

clothes.  For she herself suckled it, nay, she often too gave her

breast to her servants' children, to produce, by sucking the same

milk, a kind of natural love in them to her son.  When he began to

come to years of discretion, Cato himself would teach him to read,

although he had a servant, a very good grammarian, called Chilo, who

taught many others; but he thought not fit, as he himself said, to

have his son reprimanded by a slave, or pulled, it may be, by the

ears when found tardy in his lesson:  nor would he have him owe to a

servant the obligation of so great a thing as his learning; he

himself, therefore, (as we were saying,) taught him his grammar, law,

and his gymnastic exercises.  Nor did he only show him, too, how to

throw a dart, to fight in armor, and to ride, but to box also and to

endure both heat and cold, and to swim over the most rapid and rough

rivers.  He says, likewise, that he wrote histories, in large

characters, with his own hand, that so his son, without stirring out

of the house, might learn to know about his countrymen and

forefathers:  nor did he less abstain from speaking anything obscene

before his son, than if it had been in the presence of the sacred

virgins, called vestals.  Nor would he ever go into the bath with

him; which seems indeed to have been the common custom of the Romans.

Sons-in-law used to avoid bathing with fathers-in-law, disliking to

see one another naked:  but having, in time, learned of the Greeks to

strip before men, they have since taught the Greeks to do it even

with the women themselves.

Thus, like an excellent work, Cato formed and fashioned his son to

virtue; nor had he any occasion to find fault with his readiness and

docility; but as he proved to be of too weak a constitution for

hardships, he did not insist on requiring of him any very austere way

of living.  However, though delicate in health, he proved a stout man

in the field, and behaved himself valiantly when Paulus Aemilius

fought against Perseus; where when his sword was struck from him by a

blow, or rather slipped out of his hand by reason of its moistness,

he so keenly resented it, that he turned to some of his friends about

him, and taking them along with him again, fell upon the enemy; and

having by a long fight and much force cleared the place, at length

found it among great heaps of arms, and the dead bodies of friends as

well as enemies piled one upon another.  Upon which Paulus, his

general, much commended the youth; and there is a letter of Cato's to

his son, which highly praises his honorable eagerness for the

recovery of his sword.  Afterwards he married Tertia, Aemilius

Paulus's daughter, and sister to Scipio; nor was he admitted into

this family less for his own worth than his father's.  So that Cato's

care in his son's education came to a very fitting result.

He purchased a great many slaves out of the captives taken in war,

but chiefly bought up the young ones, who were capable to be, as it

were, broken and taught like whelps and colts.  None of these ever

entered another man's house, except sent either by Cato himself or

his wife.  If any one of them were asked what Cato did, they answered

merely, that they did not know.  When a servant was at home, he was

obliged either to do some work or sleep; for indeed Cato loved those

most who used to lie down often to sleep, accounting them more docile

than those who were wakeful, and more fit for anything when they were

refreshed with a little slumber.  Being also of opinion, that the

great cause of the laziness and misbehavior of slaves was their

running after their pleasures, he fixed a certain price for them to

pay for permission amongst themselves, but would suffer no

connections out of the house.  At first, when he was but a poor

soldier, he would not be difficult in anything which related to his

eating, but looked upon it as a pitiful thing to quarrel with a

servant for the belly's sake; but afterwards, when he grew richer,

and made any feasts for his friends and colleagues in office, as soon

as supper was over he used to go with a leathern thong and scourge

those who had waited or dressed the meat carelessly.  He always

contrived, too, that his servants should have some difference one

among another, always suspecting and fearing a good understanding

between them.  Those who had committed anything worthy of death, he

punished, if they were found guilty by the verdict of their

fellow-servants.  But being after all much given to the desire of gain,

he looked upon agriculture rather as a pleasure than profit;

resolving, therefore, to lay out his money in safe and solid things,

he purchased ponds, hot baths, grounds full of fuller's earth,

remunerative lands, pastures, and woods; from all which he drew large

returns, nor could Jupiter himself, he used to say, do him much

damage.  He was also given to the form of usury, which is considered

most odious, in traffic by sea; and that thus: — he desired that those

whom he put out his money to, should have many partners; and when the

number of them and their ships came to be fifty, he himself took one

share through Quintio his freedman, who therefore was to sail with

the adventurers, and take a part in all their proceedings; so that

thus there was no danger of losing his whole stock, but only a little

part, and that with a prospect of great profit.  He likewise lent

money to those of his slaves who wished to borrow, with which they

bought also other young ones, whom, when they had taught and bred up

at his charges, they would sell again at the year's end; but some of

them Cato would keep for himself, giving just as much for them as

another had offered.  To incline his son to be of this kind of

temper, he used to tell him, that it was not like a man, but rather

like a widow woman, to lessen an estate.  But the strongest

indication of Cato's avaricious humor was when he took the boldness

to affirm, that he was a most wonderful, nay, a godlike man, who left

more behind him than he had received.

He was now grown old, when Carneades the Academic, and Diogenes the

Stoic, came as deputies from Athens to Rome, praying for release from

a penalty of five hundred talents laid on the Athenians, in a suit,

to which they did not appear, in which the Oropians were plaintiffs,

and Sicyonians judges.  All the most studious youth immediately

waited on these philosophers, and frequently, with admiration, heard

them speak.  But the gracefulness of Carneades's oratory, whose

ability was really greatest, and his reputation equal to it, gathered

large and favorable audiences, and erelong filled, like a wind, all

the city with the sound of it.  So that it soon began to be told,

that a Greek, famous even to admiration, winning and carrying all

before him, had impressed so strange a love upon the young men, that

quitting all their pleasures and pastimes, they ran mad, as it were,

after philosophy; which indeed much pleased the Romans in general;

nor could they but with much pleasure see the youth receive so

welcomely the Greek literature, and frequent the company of learned

men.  But Cato, on the other side, seeing this passion for words

flowing into the city, from the beginning, took it ill, fearing lest

the youth should be diverted that way, and so should prefer the glory

of speaking well before that of arms, and doing well.  And when the

fame of the philosophers increased in the city, and Caius Acilius, a

person of distinction, at his own request, became their interpreter

to the senate at their first audience, Cato resolved, under some

specious presence, to have all philosophers cleared out of the city;

and, coming into the senate, blamed the magistrates for letting these

deputies stay so long a time without being dispatched, though they

were persons that could easily persuade the people to what they

pleased; that therefore in all haste something should be determined

about their petition, that so they might go home again to their own

schools, and declaim to the Greek children, and leave the Roman

youth, to be obedient, as hitherto, to their own laws and governors.

Yet he did this not out of any anger, as some think, to Carneades;

but because he wholly despised philosophy, and out of a kind of

pride, scoffed at the Greek studies and literature; as, for example,

he would say, that Socrates was a prating seditious fellow, who did

his best to tyrannize over his country, to undermine the ancient

customs, and to entice and withdraw the citizens to opinions contrary

to the laws.  Ridiculing the school of Isocrates, he would add, that

his scholars grew old men before they had done learning with him, as

if they were to use their art and plead causes in the court of Minos

in the next world.  And to frighten his son from anything that was

Greek, in a more vehement tone than became one of his age, he

pronounced, as it were, with the voice of an oracle, that the Romans

would certainly be destroyed when they began once to be infected with

Greek literature; though time indeed has shown the vanity of this his

prophecy; as, in truth, the city of Rome has risen to its highest

fortune, while entertaining Grecian learning.  Nor had he an aversion

only against the Greek philosophers, but the physicians also; for

having, it seems, heard how Hippocrates, when the king of Persia sent

for him, with offers of a fee of several talents, said, that he would

never assist barbarians who were enemies to the Greeks; he affirmed,

that this was now become a common oath taken by all physicians, and

enjoined his son to have a care and avoid them; for that he himself

had written a little book of prescriptions for curing those who were

sick in his family; he never enjoined fasting to anyone, but ordered

them either vegetables, or the meat of a duck, pigeon, or leveret;

such kind of diet being of light digestion, and fit for sick folks,

only it made those who ate it dream a little too much; and by the

use of this kind of physic, he said, he not only made himself and

those about him well, but kept them so.

However, for this his presumption, he seemed not to have escaped

unpunished; for he lost both his wife and his son; though he himself,

being of a strong robust constitution, held out longer; so that he

would often, even in his old days, address himself to women, and when

he was past a lover's age, married a young woman, upon the following

pretense.  Having lost his own wife, he married his son to the

daughter of Paulus Aemilius, who was sister to Scipio; so that being

now a widower himself, he had a young girl who came privately to

visit him; but the house being very small, and a daughter-in-law also

in it, this practice was quickly discovered; for the young woman

seeming once to pass through it a little too boldly, the youth, his

son, though he said nothing, seemed to look somewhat indignantly upon

her.  The old man perceiving and understanding that what he did was

disliked, without finding any fault, or saying a word, went away

as his custom was, with his usual companions to the market:  and

among the rest, he called aloud to one Salonius, who had been a clerk

under him, and asked him whether he had married his daughter? He

answered, no, nor would he, till he had consulted him.  Said Cato,

"Then I have found out a fit son-in-law for you, if he should not

displease by reason of his age; for in all other points there is no

fault to be found in him; but he is indeed, as I said, extremely

old."  However, Salonius desired him to undertake the business, and

to give the young girl to whom he pleased, she being a humble servant

of his, who stood in need of his care and patronage.  Upon this Cato,

without any more ado, told him, he desired to have the damsel

himself.  These words, as may well be imagined, at first astonished

the man, conceiving that Cato was as far off from marrying, as he

from a likelihood of being allied to the family of one who had been

consul, and had triumphed; but perceiving him in earnest, he

consented willingly; and, going onwards to the forum, they quickly

completed the bargain.

Whilst the marriage was in hand, Cato's son, taking some of his

friends along with him, went and asked his father if it were for any

offense he brought in a stepmother upon him?  But Cato cried out, "Far

from it, my son, I have no fault to find with you nor anything of

yours; only I desire to have many children, and to leave the

commonwealth more such citizens as you are."  Pisistratus, the tyrant

of Athens, made, they say, this answer to his sons, when they were

grown men, when he married his second wife, Timonassa of Argos, by

whom he had, it is said, Iophon and Thessalus.  Cato had a son by

this second wife, to whom from his mother, he gave the surname of

Salonius.  In the mean time, his eldest died in his praetorship; of

whom Cato often makes mention in his books, as having been a good

man.  He is said, however, to have borne the loss moderately, and

like a philosopher, and was nothing the more remiss in attending to

affairs of state; so that he did not, as Lucius Lucullus and Metellus

Pius did, grow languid in his old age, as though public business were

a duty once to be discharged, and then quitted; nor did he, like

Scipio Africanus, because envy had struck at his glory, turn from the

public, and change and pass away the rest of his life without doing

anything; but as one persuaded Dionysius, that the most honorable

tomb he could have, would be to die in the exercise of his dominion;

so Cato thought that old age to be the most honorable, which was

busied in public affairs; though he would, now and then, when he had

leisure, recreate himself with husbandry and writing.

And, indeed, he composed various books and histories; and in his

youth, he addicted himself to agriculture for profit's sake; for he

used to say, he had but two ways of getting — agriculture and

parsimony; and now, in his old age, the first of these gave him both

occupation and a subject of study.  He wrote one book on country

matters, in which he treated particularly even of making cakes, and

preserving fruit; it being his ambition to be curious and singular in

all things.  His suppers, at his country-house, used also to be

plentiful; he daily invited his friends and neighbors about him, and

passed the time merrily with them; so that his company was not only

agreeable to those of the same age, but even to younger men; for he

had had experience in many things, and had been concerned in much,

both by word and deed, that was worth the hearing.  He looked upon a

good table, as the best place for making friends; where the

commendations of brave and good citizens were usually introduced, and

little said of base and unworthy ones; as Cato would not give leave

in his company to have anything, either good or ill, said about

them.

Some will have the overthrow of Carthage to have been one of his last

acts of state; when, indeed, Scipio the younger, did by his valor

give it the last blow, but the war, chiefly by the counsel and advice

of Cato, was undertaken on the following occasion.  Cato was sent to

the Carthaginians and Masinissa, king of Numidia, who were at war

with one another, to know the cause of their difference.  He, it

seems, had been a friend of the Romans from the beginning; and they,

too, since they were conquered by Scipio, were of the Roman

confederacy, having been shorn of their power by loss of territory,

and a heavy tax.  Finding Carthage, not (as the Romans thought) low

and in an ill condition, but well manned, full of riches and all

sorts of arms and ammunition, and perceiving the Carthaginians carry

it high, he conceived that it was not a time for the Romans to adjust

affairs between them and Masinissa; but rather that they themselves

would fall into danger, unless they should find means to check this

rapid new growth of Rome's ancient irreconcilable enemy.  Therefore,

returning quickly to Rome, he acquainted the senate, that the former

defeats and blows given to the Carthaginians, had not so much

diminished their strength, as it had abated their imprudence and

folly; that they were not become weaker, but more experienced in war,

and did only skirmish with the Numidians, to exercise themselves the

better to cope with the Romans:  that the peace and league they had

made was but a kind of suspension of war which awaited a fairer

opportunity to break out again.

Moreover, they say that, shaking his gown, he took occasion to let

drop some African figs before the senate.  And on their admiring the

size and beauty of them, he presently added, that the place that bore

them was but three days' sail from Rome.  Nay, he never after this

gave his opinion, but at the end he would be sure to come out with

this sentence, "Also, Carthage, methinks, ought utterly to be

destroyed."  But Publius Scipio Nasica would always declare his

opinion to the contrary, in these words, "It seems requisite to me

that Carthage should still stand."  For seeing his countrymen to be

grown wanton and insolent, and the people made, by their prosperity,

obstinate and disobedient to the senate, and drawing the whole city,

whither they would, after them, he would have had the fear of

Carthage to serve as a bit to hold in the contumacy of the multitude;

and he looked upon the Carthaginians as too weak to overcome the

Romans, and too great to be despised by them.  On the other side, it

seemed a perilous thing to Cato, that a city which had been always

great, and was now grown sober and wise, by reason of its former

calamities, should still lie, as it were, in wait for the follies and

dangerous excesses of the overpowerful Roman people; so that he

thought it the wisest course to have all outward dangers removed,

when they had so many inward ones among themselves.

Thus Cato, they say, stirred up the third and last war against the

Carthaginians:  but no sooner was the said war begun, than he died,

prophesying of the person that should put an end to it, who was then

only a young man; but, being tribune in the army, he in several

fights gave proof of his courage and conduct.  The news of which

being brought to Cato's ears at Rome, he thus expressed himself: —

The only wise man of them all is he,

The others e'en as shadows flit and flee.

This prophecy Scipio soon confirmed by his actions.

Cato left no posterity, except one son by his second wife, who was

named, as we said, Cato Salonius; and a grandson by his eldest son,

who died.  Cato Salonius died when he was praetor, but his son Marcus

was afterwards consul, and he was grandfather of Cato the

philosopher, who for virtue and renown was one of the most eminent

personages of his time.

COMPARISON OF ARISTIDES WITH MARCUS CATO.

Having mentioned the most memorable actions of these great men, if we

now compare the whole life of the one with that of the other, it will

not be easy to discern the difference between them, lost as it is

amongst such a number of circumstances in which they resemble each

other.  If, however, we examine them in detail as we might some piece

of poetry, or some picture, we shall find this common to them both,

that they advanced themselves to great honor and dignity in the

commonwealth, by no other means than their own virtue and industry.

But it seems when Aristides appeared, Athens was not at its height of

grandeur and plenty, the chief magistrates and officers of his time

being men only of moderate and equal fortunes among themselves.  The

estimate of the greatest estates then, was five hundred medimns; that

of the second, or knights, three hundred; of the third and last called

Zeugitae, two hundred.  But Cato, out of a petty village from a

country life, leaped into the commonwealth, as it were into a vast

ocean; at a time when there were no such governors as the Curii,

Fabricii, and Hostilii.  Poor laboring men were not then advanced from

the plow and spade to be governors and magistrates; but greatness of

family, riches, profuse gifts, distributions, and personal application

were what the city looked to; keeping a high hand, and, in a manner,

insulting over those that courted preferment.  It was not as great a

matter to have Themistocles for an adversary, a person of mean

extraction and small fortune, (for he was not worth, it is said, more

than four or five talents when he first applied himself to public

affairs,) as to contest with a Scipio Africanus, a Servius Galba, and

a Quintius Flamininus, having no other aid but a tongue free to assert

right.

Besides, Aristides at Marathon, and again at Plataea, was but one

commander out of ten; whereas Cato was chosen consul with a single

colleague, having many competitors, and with a single colleague, also,

was preferred before seven most noble and eminent pretenders to be

censor.  But Aristides was never principal in any action; for

Miltiades carried the day at Marathon, at Salamis Themistocles, and at

Plataea, Herodotus tells us, Pausanias got the glory of that noble

victory: and men like Sophanes, and Aminias, Callimachus, and

Cynaegyrus, behaved themselves so well in all those engagements, as to

contest it with Aristides even for the second place.  But Cato not

only in his consulship was esteemed the chief in courage and conduct

in the Spanish war, but even whilst he was only serving as tribune at

Thermopylae, under another's command, he gained the glory of the

victory, for having, as it were, opened a wide gate for the Romans to

rush in upon Antiochus, and for having brought the war on his back,

whilst he only minded what was before his face.  For that victory,

which was beyond dispute all Cato's own work, cleared Asia out of

Greece, and by that means made way afterwards for Scipio into Asia.

Both of them, indeed, were always victorious in war; but at home

Aristides stumbled, being banished and oppressed by the faction of

Themistocles; yet Cato, notwithstanding he had almost all the chief

and most powerful of Rome for his adversaries, and wrestled with them

even to his old age, kept still his footing.  Engaging also in many

public suits, sometimes plaintiff, sometimes defendant, he cast the

most, and came off clear with all; thanks to his eloquence, that

bulwark and powerful instrument to which more truly, than to chance or

his fortune, he owed it, that he sustained himself unhurt to the last.

Antipater justly gives it as a high commendation to Aristotle the

philosopher, writing of him after his death, that among his other

virtues, he was endowed with a faculty of persuading people which way

he pleased.

Questionless, there is no perfecter endowment in man than political

virtue, and of this Economics is commonly esteemed not the least

part; for a city, which is a collection of private households, grows

into a stable commonwealth by the private means of prosperous citizens

that compose it.  Lycurgus by prohibiting gold and silver in Sparta,

and making iron, spoiled by the fire, the only currency, did not by

these measures discharge them from minding their household affairs,

but cutting off luxury, the corruption and tumor of riches, he

provided there should be an abundant supply of all necessary and

useful things for all persons, as much as any other lawmaker ever did;

being more apprehensive of a poor, needy, and indigent member of a

community, than of the rich and haughty.  And in this management of

domestic concerns, Cato was as great as in the government of public

affairs; for he increased his estate, and became a master to others in

economy and husbandry; upon which subjects he collected in his

writings many useful observations.  On the contrary Aristides, by his

poverty, made justice odious, as if it were the pest and impoverisher

of a family and beneficial to all, rather than to those that were

endowed with it.  Yet Hesiod urges us alike to just dealing and to

care of our households, and inveighs against idleness as the origin of

injustice; and Homer admirably says: —

Work was not dear, nor household cares to me,

Whose increase rears the thriving family;

But well-rigged ships were always my delight,

And wars, and darts, and arrows of the fight:

as if the same characters carelessly neglected their own estates, and

lived by injustice and rapine from others.  For it is not as the

physicians say of oil, that outwardly applied, it is very wholesome,

but taken inwardly detrimental, that thus a just man provides

carefully for others, and is heedless of himself and his own affairs:

but in this Aristides's political virtues seem to be defective; since,

according to most authors, he took no care to leave his daughters a

portion, or himself enough to defray his funeral charges: whereas

Cato's family produced senators and generals to the fourth generation;

his grandchildren, and their children, came to the highest

preferments.  But Aristides, who was the principal man of Greece,

through extreme poverty reduced some of his to get their living by

juggler's tricks, others, for want, to hold out their hands for public

alms; leaving none means to perform any noble action, or worthy his

dignity.

Yet why should this needs follow? since poverty is dishonorable not

in itself, but when it is a proof of laziness, intemperance, luxury,

and carelessness; whereas in a person that is temperate, industrious,

just, and valiant, and who uses all his virtues for the public good,

it shows a great and lofty mind.  For he has no time for great

matters, who concerns himself with petty ones; nor can he relieve many

needs of others, who himself has many needs of his own.  What most of

all enables a man to serve the public is not wealth, but content and

independence; which, requiring no superfluity at home, distracts not

the mind from the common good.  God alone is entirely exempt from all

want:  of human virtues, that which needs least, is the most absolute

and most divine.  For as a body bred to a good habit requires nothing

exquisite either in clothes or food, so a sound man and a sound

household keep themselves up with a small matter.  Riches ought to be

proportioned to the use we have of them; for he that scrapes together

a great deal, making use of but little, is not independent; for if he

wants them not, it is folly in him to make provision for things which

he does not desire; or if he does desire them, and restrains his

enjoyment out of sordidness, he is miserable.  I would fain know of

Cato himself, if we seek riches that we may enjoy them, why is he

proud of having a great deal, and being contented with little?  But if

it be noble, as it is, to feed on coarse bread, and drink the same

wine with our hinds, and not to covet purple, and plastered houses,

neither Aristides, nor Epaminondas, nor Manius Curius, nor Caius

Fabricius wanted necessaries, who took no pains to get those things

whose use they approved not.  For it was not worth the while of a man

who esteemed turnips a most delicate food, and who boiled them

himself, whilst his wife made bread, to brag so often of a halfpenny,

and write a book to show how a man may soonest grow rich; the very

good of being contented with little is because it cuts off at once the

desire and the anxiety for superfluities.  Hence Aristides, it is

told, said, on the trial of Callias, that it was for them to blush at

poverty, who were poor against their wills; they who like him were

willingly so, might glory in it.  For it is ridiculous to think

Aristides's neediness imputable to his sloth, who might fairly enough

by the spoil of one barbarian, or seizing one tent, have become

wealthy.  But enough of this.

Cato's expeditions added no great matter to the Roman empire, which

already was so great, as that in a manner it could receive no

addition; but those of Aristides are the noblest, most splendid, and

distinguished actions the Grecians ever did, the battles at Marathon,

Salamis, and Plataea.  Nor indeed is Antiochus, nor the destruction of

the walls of the Spanish towns, to be compared with Xerxes, and the

destruction by sea and land of so many myriads of enemies; in all of

which noble exploits Aristides yielded to none, though he left the

glory and the laurels, like the wealth and money, to those who

needed and thirsted more greedily after them:  because he was superior

to those also.  I do not blame Cato for perpetually boasting and

preferring himself before all others, though in one of his orations he

says, that it is equally absurd to praise and dispraise one's self:

yet he who does not so much as desire others' praises, seems to me

more perfectly virtuous, than he who is always extolling himself.  A

mind free from ambition is a main help to political gentleness:

ambition, on the contrary, is hard-hearted, and the greatest fomenter

of envy; from which Aristides was wholly exempt; Cato very subject to

it.  Aristides assisted Themistocles in matters of highest importance,

and, as his subordinate officer, in a manner raised Athens: Cato, by

opposing Scipio, almost broke and defeated his expedition against the

Carthaginians, in which he overthrew Hannibal, who till then was even

invincible; and, at last, by continually raising suspicions and

calumnies against him, he chased him from the city, and inflicted a

disgraceful sentence on his brother for robbing the state.

Finally, that temperance which Cato always highly cried up, Aristides

preserved truly pure and untainted.  But Cato's marriage, unbecoming

his dignity and age, is a considerable disparagement, in this respect,

to his character.  For it was not decent for him at that age to bring

home to his son and his wife a young woman, the daughter of a common

paid clerk in the public service: but whether it were for his own

gratification or out of anger at his son, both the fact and the

presence were unworthy.  For the reason he pretended to his son was

false: for if he desired to get more as worthy children, he ought to

have married a well-born wife; not to have contented himself, so long

as it was unnoticed, with a woman to whom he was not married; and,

when it was discovered, he ought not to have chosen such a

father-in-law as was easiest to be got, instead of one whose affinity

might be honorable to him.

PHILOPOEMEN

Cleander was a man of high birth and great power in the city of

Mantinea, but by the chances of the time happened to be driven from

thence.  There being an intimate friendship betwixt him and Craugis,

the father of Philopoemen, who was a person of great distinction, he

settled at Megalopolis, where, while his friend lived, he had all he

could desire.  When Craugis died, he repaid the father's hospitable

kindness in the care of the orphan son; by which means Philopoemen

was educated by him, as Homer says Achilles was by Phoenix, and from

his infancy molded to lofty and noble inclinations.  But Ecdemus and

Demophanes had the principal tuition of him, after he was past the

years of childhood.  They were both Megalopolitans; they had been

scholars in the academic philosophy, and friends to Arcesilaus, and

had, more than any of their contemporaries, brought philosophy to

bear upon action, and state affairs.  They had freed their country

from tyranny by the death of Aristodemus, whom they caused to be

killed; they had assisted Aratus in driving out the tyrant Nicocles

from Sicyon; and, at the request of the Cyreneans, whose city was in

a state of extreme disorder and confusion, went thither by sea, and

succeeded in establishing good government and happily settling their

commonwealth.  And among their best actions they themselves counted

the education of Philopoemen, thinking they had done a general good

to Greece, by giving him the nurture of philosophy.  And indeed all

Greece (which looked upon him as a kind of latter birth brought

forth, after so many noble leaders, in her decrepit age) loved him

wonderfully; and, as his glory grew, increased his power.  And one of

the Romans, to praise him, calls him the last of the Greeks; as if

after him Greece had produced no great man, nor who deserved the name

of Greek.

His person was not, as some fancy, deformed; for his likeness is yet

to be seen at Delphi.  The mistake of the hostess of Megara was

occasioned, it would seem, merely by his easiness of temper and his

plain manners.  This hostess having word brought her, that the

General of the Achaeans was coming to her house in the absence of

her husband, was all in a hurry about providing his supper.

Philopoemen, in an ordinary cloak, arriving in this point of time,

she took him for one of his own train who had been sent on before,

and bid him lend her his hand in her household work.  He forthwith

threw off his cloak, and fell to cutting up the fire-wood.  The

husband returning, and seeing him at it, "What," says he, "may this

mean, O Philopoemen?"  "I am," replied he in his Doric dialect,

"paying the penalty of my ugly looks."  Titus Flamininus, jesting

with him upon his figure, told him one day, he had well-shaped hands

and feet, but no belly:  and he was indeed slender in the waist.  But

this raillery was meant to the poverty of his fortune; for he had

good horse and foot, but often wanted money to entertain and pay

them.  These are the common anecdotes told of Philopoemen.

The love of honor and distinction was, in his character, not

unalloyed with feelings of personal rivalry and resentment.  He made

Epaminondas his great example, and came not far behind him in

activity, sagacity, and incorruptible integrity; but his hot

contentious temper continually carried him out of the bounds of that

gentleness, composure, and humanity which had marked Epaminondas, and

this made him thought a pattern rather of military than of civil

virtue.  He was strongly inclined to the life of a soldier even from

his childhood, and he studied and practiced all that belonged to it,

taking great delight in managing of horses, and handling of weapons.

Because he was naturally fitted to excel in wrestling, some of his

friends and tutors recommended his attention to athletic exercises.

But he would first be satisfied whether it would not interfere with

his becoming a good soldier.  They told him, as was the truth, that

the one life was directly opposite to the other; the requisite state

of body, the ways of living, and the exercises all different:  the

professed athlete sleeping much, and feeding plentifully, punctually

regular in his set times of exercise and rest, and apt to spoil all

by every little excess, or breach of his usual method; whereas the

soldier ought to train himself in every variety of change and

irregularity, and, above all, to bring himself to endure hunger and

loss of sleep without difficulty.  Philopoemen, hearing this, not

only laid by all thoughts of wrestling and contemned it then, but

when he came to be general, discouraged it by all marks of reproach

and dishonor he could imagine, as a thing which made men, otherwise

excellently fit for war, to be utterly useless and unable to fight on

necessary occasions.

When he left off his masters and teachers, and began to bear arms in

the incursions which his citizens used to make upon the

Lacedaemonians for pillage and plunder, he would always march out the

first, and return the last.  When there was nothing to do, he sought

to harden his body, and make it strong and active by hunting, or

laboring in his ground.  He had a good estate about twenty furlongs

from the town, and thither he would go every day after dinner and

supper; and when night came, throw himself upon the first mattress in

his way, and there sleep as one of the laborers.  At break of day he

would rise with the rest, and work either in the vineyard or at the

plow; from thence return again to the town, and employ his time with

his friends, or the magistrates in public business.  What he got in

the wars, he laid out on horses, or arms, or in ransoming captives;

but endeavored to improve his own property the justest way, by

tillage; and this not slightly, by way of diversion, but thinking it

his strict duty, so to manage his own fortune, as to be out of the

temptation of wronging others.

He spent much time on eloquence and philosophy, but selected his

authors, and cared only for those by whom he might profit in virtue.

In Homer's fictions his attention was given to whatever he thought

apt to raise the courage.  Of all other books he was most devoted to

the commentaries of Evangelus on military tactics, and also took

delight, at leisure hours, in the histories of Alexander; thinking

that such reading, unless undertaken for mere amusement and idle

conversation, was to the purpose for action.  Even in speculations on

military subjects it was his habit to neglect maps and diagrams, and

to put the theorems to practical proof on the ground itself.  He

would be exercising his thoughts, and considering, as he traveled,

and arguing with those about him of the difficulties of steep or

broken ground, what might happen at rivers, ditches, or

mountain-passes, in marching in close or in open, in this or in that

particular form of battle.  The truth is, he indeed took an

immoderate pleasure in military operations and in warfare, to which

he devoted himself, as the special means for exercising all sorts of

virtue, and utterly contemned those who were not soldiers, as drones

and useless in the commonwealth.

When he was thirty years of age, Cleomenes, king of the

Lacedaemonians, surprised Megalopolis by night, forced the guards,

broke in, and seized the marketplace.  Philopoemen came out upon the

alarm, and fought with desperate courage, but could not beat the

enemy out again; yet he succeeded in effecting the escape of the

citizens, who got away while he made head against the pursuers, and

amused Cleomenes, till, after losing his horse and receiving several

wounds, with much ado he came off himself, being the last man in the

retreat.  The Megalopolitans escaped to Messene, whither Cleomenes

sent to offer them their town and goods again.  Philopoemen

perceiving them to be only too glad at the news, and eager to return,

checked them with a speech, in which he made them sensible, that what

Cleomenes called restoring the city, was, rather, possessing himself

of the citizens, and through their means securing also the city for

the future.  The mere solitude would, of itself, erelong force him

away, since there was no staying to guard empty houses and naked

walls.  These reasons withheld the Megalopolitans, but gave Cleomenes

a pretext to pillage and destroy a great part of the city, and carry

away a great booty.

Awhile after king Antigonus coming down to succor the Achaeans, they

marched with their united forces against Cleomenes; who, having

seized the avenues, lay advantageously posted on the hills of

Sellasia.  Antigonus drew up close by him, with a resolution to force

him in his strength.  Philopoemen, with his citizens, was that day

placed among the horse, next to the Illyrian foot, a numerous body of

bold fighters, who completed the line of battle, forming, together

with the Achaeans, the reserve.  Their orders were to keep their

ground, and not engage till from the other wing, where the king

fought in person, they should see a red coat lifted up on the point

of a spear.  The Achaeans obeyed their order, and stood fast; but the

Illyrians were led on by their commanders to the attack.  Euclidas,

the brother of Cleomenes, seeing the foot thus severed from the

horse, detached the best of his light-armed men, commanding them to

wheel about, and charge the unprotected Illyrians in the rear.  This

charge putting things in confusion, Philopoemen, considering those

light-armed men would be easily repelled, went first to the king's

officers to make them sensible what the occasion required.  But they

not minding what he said, but slighting him as a hare-brained fellow,

(as indeed he was not yet of any repute sufficient to give credit to

a proposal of such importance,) he charged with his own citizens, and

at the first encounter disordered, and soon after put the troops to

flight with great slaughter.  Then, to encourage the king's army

further, to bring them all upon the enemy while he was in confusion,

he quitted his horse, and fighting with extreme difficulty in his

heavy horseman's dress, in rough uneven ground, full of watercourses

and hollows, had both his thighs struck through with a thonged

javelin.  It was thrown with great force, so that the head came out

on the other side, and made a severe, though not a mortal, wound.

There he stood awhile, as if he had been shackled, unable to move.

The fastening which joined the thong to the javelin made it difficult

to get it drawn out, nor would any about him venture to do it.  But

the fight being now at the hottest, and likely to be quickly decided,

he was transported with the desire of partaking in it, and struggled

and strained so violently, setting one leg forward, the other back,

that at last he broke the shaft in two; and thus got the pieces

pulled out.  Being in this manner set at liberty, he caught up his

sword, and running through the midst of those who were fighting in

the first ranks, animated his men, and set them afire with emulation.

Antigonus, after the victory, asked the Macedonians, to try them, how

it happened the horse had charged without orders before the signal?

They answering, that they were against their wills forced to it by a

young man of Megalopolis, who had fallen in before his time:  "that

young man," replied Antigonus, smiling, "did like an experienced

commander."

This, as was natural, brought Philopoemen into great reputation.

Antigonus was earnest to have him in his service, and offered him

very advantageous conditions, both as to command and pay.  But

Philopoemen, who knew that his nature brooked not to be under

another, would not accept them; yet not enduring to live idle, and

hearing of wars in Crete, for practice' sake he passed over thither.

He spent some time among those very warlike, and, at the same time,

sober and temperate men, improving much by experience in all sorts of

service; and then returned with so much fame, that the Achaeans

presently chose him commander of the horse.  These horsemen at that

time had neither experience nor bravery, it being the custom to take

any common horses, the first and cheapest they could procure, when

they were to march; and on almost all occasions they did not go

themselves, but hired others in their places, and staid at home.

Their former commanders winked at this, because, it being an honor

among the Achaeans to serve on horseback, these men had great power

in the commonwealth, and were able to gratify or molest whom they

pleased.  Philopoemen, finding them in this condition, yielded not to

any such considerations, nor would pass it over as formerly; but

went himself from town to town, where, speaking with the young men,

one by one, he endeavored to excite a spirit of ambition and love of

honor among them, using punishment also, where it was necessary.  And

then by public exercises, reviews, and contests in the presence of

numerous spectators, in a little time he made them wonderfully strong

and bold, and, which is reckoned of greatest consequence in military

service, light and agile.  With use and industry they grew so

perfect, to such a command of their horses, such a ready exactness in

wheeling round in their troops, that in any change of posture the

whole body seemed to move with all the facility and promptitude, and,

as it were, with the single will of one man.  In the great battle,

which they fought with the Aetolians and Eleans by the river

Larissus, he set them an example himself.  Damophantus, general of

the Elean horse, singled out Philopoemen, and rode with full speed at

him.  Philopoemen awaited his charge, and, before receiving the

stroke, with a violent blow of his spear threw him dead to the

ground:  upon whose fall the enemy fled immediately.  And now

Philopoemen was in everybody's mouth, as a man who in actual fighting

with his own hand yielded not to the youngest, nor in good conduct to

the oldest, and than whom there came not into the field any better

soldier or commander.

Aratus, indeed, was the first who raised the Achaeans, inconsiderable

till then, into reputation and power, by uniting their divided cities

into one commonwealth, and establishing amongst them a humane and

truly Grecian form of government; and hence it happened, as in

running waters, where when a few little particles of matter once

stop, others stick to them, and one part strengthening another, the

whole becomes firm and solid; so in a general weakness, when every

city relying only on itself, all Greece was giving way to an easy

dissolution, the Achaeans, first forming themselves into a body, then

drawing in their neighbors round about, some by protection,

delivering them from their tyrants, others by peaceful consent and by

naturalization, designed at last to bring all Peloponnesus into one

community.  Yet while Aratus lived, they depended much on the

Macedonians, courting first Ptolemy, then Antigonus and Philip, who

all took part continually in whatever concerned the affairs of

Greece.  But when Philopoemen came to command, the Achaeans, feeling

themselves a match for the most powerful of their enemies, declined

foreign support.  The truth is, Aratus, as we have written in his

life, was not of so warlike a temper, but did most by policy and

gentleness, and friendships with foreign princes; but Philopoemen

being a man both of execution and command, a great soldier, and

fortunate in his first attempts, wonderfully heightened both the

power and courage of the Achaeans, accustomed to victory under his

conduct.

But first he altered what he found amiss in their arms, and form of

battle.  Hitherto they had used light, thin bucklers, too narrow to

cover the body, and javelins much shorter than pikes.  By which means

they were skillful in skirmishing at a distance, but in a close fight

had much the disadvantage.  Then in drawing their forces up for

battle, they were never accustomed to form in regular divisions; and

their line being unprotected either by the thick array of projecting

spears or by their shields, as in the Macedonian phalanx, where the

soldiers shoulder close and their shields touch, they were easily

opened, and broken.  Philopoemen reformed all this, persuading them

to change the narrow target and short javelin, into a large shield

and long pike; to arm their heads, bodies, thighs, and legs; and

instead of loose skirmishing, fight firmly and foot to foot.  After

he had brought them all to wear full armor, and by that means into

the confidence of thinking themselves now invincible, he turned what

before had been idle profusion and luxury into an honorable expense.

For being long used to vie with each other in their dress, the

furniture of their houses, and service of their tables, and to glory

in outdoing one another, the disease by custom was grown incurable,

and there was no possibility of removing it altogether.  But he

diverted the passion, and brought them, instead of these

superfluities, to love useful and more manly display, and, reducing

their other expenses, to take delight in appearing magnificent in

their equipage of war.  Nothing then was to be seen in the shops but

plate breaking up, or melting down, gilding of breastplates, and

studding bucklers and bits with silver; nothing in the places of

exercise, but horses managing, and young men exercising their arms;

nothing in the hands of the women, but helmets and crests of feathers

to be dyed, and military cloaks and riding-frocks to be embroidered;

the very sight of all which quickening and raising their spirits,

made them contemn dangers, and feel ready to venture on any honorable

dangers.  Other kinds of sumptuosity give us pleasure, but make us

effeminate; the tickling of the sense slackening the vigor of the

mind; but magnificence of this kind strengthens and heightens the

courage; as Homer makes Achilles at the sight of his new arms

exulting with joy, and on fire to use them.  When Philopoemen had

obtained of them to arm, and set themselves out in this manner, he

proceeded to train them, mustering and exercising them perpetually;

in which they obeyed him with great zeal and eagerness.  For they

were wonderfully pleased with their new form of battle, which, being

so knit and cemented together, seemed almost incapable of being

broken.  And then their arms, which for their riches and beauty they

wore with pleasure, becoming light and easy to them with constant

use, they longed for nothing more than to try them with an enemy, and

fight in earnest.

The Achaeans at that time were at war with Machanidas, the tyrant of

Lacedaemon, who, having a strong army watched all opportunities of

becoming entire master of Peloponnesus.  When intelligence came that

he was fallen upon the Mantineans, Philopoemen forthwith took the

field, and marched towards him.  They met near Mantinea, and drew up

in sight of the city.  Both, besides the whole strength of their

several cities, had a good number of mercenaries in pay.  When they

came to fall on, Machanidas, with his hired soldiers, beat the

spearmen and the Tarentines whom Philopoemen had placed in the front.

But when he should have charged immediately into the main battle,

which stood close and firm, he hotly followed the chase; and instead

of attacking the Achaeans, passed on beyond them, while they remained

drawn up in their place.  With so untoward a beginning the rest of

the confederates gave themselves up for lost; but Philopoemen,

professing to make it a matter of small consequence, and observing

the enemy's oversight, who had thus left an opening in their main

body, and exposed their own phalanx, made no sort of motion to oppose

them, but let them pursue the chase freely, till they had placed

themselves at a great distance from him.  Then seeing the

Lacedaemonians before him deserted by their horse, with their flanks

quite bare, he charged suddenly, and surprised them without a

commander, and not so much as expecting an encounter, as, when they

saw Machanidas driving the beaten enemy before him, they thought the

victory already gained.  He overthrew them with great slaughter,

(they report above four thousand killed in the place,) and then faced

about against Machanidas, who was returning with his mercenaries from

the pursuit.  There happened to be a broad deep ditch between them,

along side of which both rode their horses for awhile, the one trying

to get over and fly, the other to hinder him.  It looked less like

the contest between two generals than like the last defense of some

wild beast, brought to bay by the keen huntsman Philopoemen, and

forced to fight for his life.  The tyrant's horse was mettled and

strong; and feeling the bloody spurs in his sides, ventured to take

the ditch.  He had already so far reached the other side, as to have

planted his fore-feet upon it, and was struggling to raise himself

with these, when Simmias and Polyaenus, who used to fight by the side

of Philopoemen, came up on horseback to his assistance.  But

Philopoemen, before either of them, himself met Machanidas; and

perceiving that the horse with his head high reared, covered his

master's body, he turned his own a little, and holding his javelin by

the middle, drove it against the tyrant with all his force, and

tumbled him dead into the ditch.  Such is the precise posture in

which he stands at Delphi in the brazen statue which the Achaeans set

up of him, in admiration of his valor in this single combat, and

conduct during the whole day.

We are told that at the Nemean games, a little after this victory,

Philopoemen being then General the second time, and at leisure on the

occasion of the solemnity, first showed the Greeks his army drawn up

in full array as if they were to fight, and executed with it all the

maneuvers of a battle with wonderful order, strength, and celerity.

After which he went into the theater, while the musicians were

singing for the prize, followed by the young soldiers in their

military cloaks and their scarlet frocks under their armor, all in

the very height of bodily vigor, and much alike in age, showing a

high respect to their general; yet breathing at the same time a noble

confidence in themselves, raised by success in many glorious

encounters.  Just at their coming in, it so happened, that the

musician Pylades, with a voice well suited to the lofty style of the

poet, was in the act of commencing the Persians of Timotheus,

Under his conduct Greece was glorious and was free.

The whole theater at once turned to look at Philopoemen, and clapped

with delight; their hopes venturing once more to return to their

country's former reputation; and their feelings almost rising to the

height of their ancient spirit.

It was with the Achaeans as with young horses, which go quietly with

their usual riders, but grow unruly and restive under strangers.  The

soldiers, when any service was in hand, and Philopoemen not at their

head, grew dejected and looked about for him; but if he once

appeared, came presently to themselves, and recovered their

confidence and courage, being sensible that this was the only one of

their commanders whom the enemy could not endure to face; but, as

appeared in several occasions, were frighted with his very name.

Thus we find that Philip, king of Macedon, thinking to terrify the

Achaeans into subjection again, if he could rid his hands of

Philopoemen, employed some persons privately to assassinate him.  But

the treachery coming to light, he became infamous, and lost his

character through Greece.  The Boeotians besieging Megara, and ready

to carry the town by storm, upon a groundless rumor that Philopoemen

was at hand with succor, ran away, and left their scaling ladders at

the wall behind them.  Nabis, (who was tyrant of Lacedaemon after

Machanidas,) had surprised Messene at a time when Philopoemen was out

of command.  He tried to persuade Lysippus, then General of the

Achaeans, to succor Messene:  but not prevailing with him, because,

he said, the enemy being now within it, the place was irrecoverably

lost, he resolved to go himself, without order or commission,

followed merely by his own immediate fellow-citizens who went with

him as their general by commission from nature, which had made him

fittest to command.  Nabis, hearing of his coming, though his army

quartered within the town, thought it not convenient to stay; but

stealing out of the furthest gate with his men, marched away with all

the speed he could, thinking himself a happy man if he could get off

with safety.  And he did escape; but Messene was rescued.

All hitherto makes for the praise and honor of Philopoemen.  But when

at the request of the Gortynians he went away into Crete to command

for them, at a time when his own country was distressed by Nabis, he

exposed himself to the charge of either cowardice, or unseasonable

ambition of honor amongst foreigners.  For the Megalopolitans were

then so pressed, that, the enemy being master of the field and

encamping almost at their gates, they were forced to keep themselves

within their walls, and sow their very streets.  And he in the mean

time, across the seas, waging war and commanding in chief in a

foreign nation, furnished his ill-wishers with matter enough for

their reproaches.  Some said he took the offer of the Gortynians,

because the Achaeans chose other generals, and left him but a private

man.  For he could not endure to sit still, but looking upon war and

command in it as his great business, always coveted to be employed.

And this agrees with what he once aptly said of king Ptolemy.

Somebody was praising him for keeping his army and himself in an

admirable state of discipline and exercise:  "And what praise,"

replied Philopoemen, "for a king of his years, to be always

preparing, and never performing?"  However, the Megalopolitans,

thinking themselves betrayed, took it so ill, that they were about to

banish him.  But the Achaeans put an end to that design, by sending

their General, Aristaeus, to Megalopolis, who, though he were at

difference with Philopoemen about affairs of the commonwealth, yet

would not suffer him to be banished.  Philopoemen finding himself

upon this account out of favor with his citizens, induced divers of

the little neighboring places to renounce obedience to them,

suggesting to them to urge that from the beginning they were not

subject to their taxes, or laws, or any way under their command.  In

these pretenses he openly took their part, and fomented seditious

movements amongst the Achaeans in general against Megalopolis.  But

these things happened a while after.

While he stayed in Crete, in the service of the Gortynians, he made

war not like a Peloponnesian and Arcadian, fairly in the open field,

but fought with them at their own weapon, and turning their

stratagems and tricks against themselves, showed them they played

craft against skill, and were but children to an experienced soldier.

Having acted here with great bravery, and great reputation to

himself, he returned into Peloponnesus, where he found Philip beaten

by Titus Quintius, and Nabis at war both with the Romans and

Achaeans.  He was at once chosen general against Nabis, but venturing

to fight by sea, met, like Epaminondas, with a result very contrary

to the general expectation, and his own former reputation.

Epaminondas, however, according to some statements, was backward by

design, unwilling to give his countrymen an appetite for the

advantages of the sea, lest from good soldiers, they should by

little and little turn, as Plato says, to ill mariners.  And

therefore he returned from Asia and the Islands without doing any

thing, on purpose.  Whereas Philopoemen, thinking his skill in

land-service would equally avail at sea, learned how great a part of

valor experience is, and how much it imports in the management of

things to be accustomed to them.  For he was not only put to the

worst in the fight for want of skill, but having rigged up an old

ship, which had been a famous vessel forty years before, and shipped

his citizens in her, she foundering, he was in danger of losing them

all.  But finding the enemy, as if he had been driven out of the sea,

had, in contempt of him, besieged Gythium, he presently set sail

again, and, taking them unexpectedly, dispersed and careless after

their victory, landed in the night, burnt their camp, and killed a

great number.

A few days after, as he was marching through a rough country, Nabis

came suddenly upon him.  The Achaeans were dismayed, and in such

difficult ground where the enemy had secured the advantage, despaired

to get off with safety.  Philopoemen made a little halt, and, viewing

the ground, soon made it appear, that the one important thing in war

is skill in drawing up an army.  For by advancing only a few paces,

and, without any confusion or trouble, altering his order according

to the nature of the place, he immediately relieved himself from

every difficulty, and then charging, put the enemy to flight.  But

when he saw they fled, not towards the city, but dispersed every man

a different way all over the field, which for wood and hills, brooks

and hollows was not passable by horse, he sounded a retreat, and

encamped by broad daylight.  Then foreseeing the enemy would endeavor

to steal scatteringly into the city in the dark, he posted strong

parties of the Achaeans all along the watercourses and sloping ground

near the walls.  Many of Nabis's men fell into their hands.  For

returning not in a body, but as the chance of flight had disposed of

every one, they were caught like birds ere they could enter into the

town.

These actions obtained him distinguished marks of affection and honor

in all the theaters of Greece, but not without the secret ill-will of

Titus Flamininus, who was naturally eager for glory, and thought it

but reasonable a consul of Rome should be otherwise esteemed by the

Achaeans, than a common Arcadian; especially as there was no

comparison between what he, and what Philopoemen had done for them,

he having by one proclamation restored all Greece, as much as had

been subject to Philip and the Macedonians, to liberty.  After this,

Titus made peace with Nabis, and Nabis was circumvented and slain by

the Aetolians.  Things being then in confusion at Sparta, Philopoemen

laid hold of the occasion, and coming upon them with an army,

prevailed with some by persuasion, with others by fear, till he

brought the whole city over to the Achaeans.  As it was no small

matter for Sparta to become a member of Achaea, this action gained

him infinite praise from the Achaeans, for having strengthened their

confederacy by the addition of so great and powerful a city, and not

a little good-will from the nobility of Sparta itself, who hoped they

had now procured an ally, who would defend their freedom.

Accordingly, having raised a sum of one hundred and twenty silver

talents by the sale of the house and goods of Nabis, they decreed him

the money, and sent a deputation in the name of the city to present

it.  But here the honesty of Philopoemen showed itself clearly to be

a real, uncounterfeited virtue.  For first of all, there was not a

man among them who would undertake to make him this offer of a

present, but every one excusing himself, and shifting it off upon his

fellow, they laid the office at last on Timolaus, with whom he had

lodged at Sparta.  Then Timolaus came to Megalopolis, and was

entertained by Philopoemen; but struck into admiration with the

dignity of his life and manners, and the simplicity of his habits,

judging him to be utterly inaccessible to any such considerations, he

said nothing, but pretending other business, returned without a word

mentioned of the present.  He was sent again, and did just as

formerly.  But the third time with much ado, and faltering in his

words, he acquainted Philopoemen with the good-will of the city of

Sparta to him.  Philopoemen listened obligingly and gladly; and then

went himself to Sparta, where he advised them, not to bribe good men

and their friends, of whose virtue they might be sure without charge

to themselves; but to buy off and silence ill citizens, who

disquieted the city with their seditious speeches in the public

assemblies; for it was better to bar liberty of speech in enemies,

than friends.  Thus it appeared how much Philopoemen was above

bribery.

Diophanes being afterwards General of the Achaeans, and hearing the

Lacedaemonians were bent on new commotions, resolved to chastise

them; they, on the other side, being set upon war, were embroiling

all Peloponnesus.  Philopoemen on this occasion did all he could to

keep Diophanes quiet and to make him sensible that as the times went,

while Antiochus and the Romans were disputing their pretensions with

vast armies in the heart of Greece, it concerned a man in his

position to keep a watchful eye over them, and dissembling, and

putting up with any less important grievances, to preserve all quiet

at home.  Diophanes would not be ruled, but joined with Titus, and

both together falling into Laconia, marched directly to Sparta.

Philopoemen, upon this, took, in his indignation, a step which

certainly was not lawful, nor in the strictest sense just, but boldly

and loftily conceived.  Entering into the town himself, he, a private

man as he was, refused admission to both the consul of Rome, and the

General of the Achaeans, quieted the disorders in the city, and

reunited it on the same terms as before to the Achaean confederacy.

Yet afterwards, when he was General himself, upon some new

misdemeanor of the Lacedaemonians, he brought back those who had been

banished, put, as Polybius writes, eighty, according to Aristocrates

three hundred and fifty, Spartans to death, razed the walls, took

away a good part of their territory and transferred it to the

Megalopolitans, forced out of the country and carried into Achaea all

who had been made citizens of Sparta by tyrants, except three

thousand who would not submit to banishment.  These he sold for

slaves, and with the money, as if to insult over them, built a

colonnade at Megalopolis.  Lastly, unworthily trampling upon the

Lacedaemonians in their calamities, and gratifying his hostility by a

most oppressive and arbitrary action, he abolished the laws of

Lycurgus, and forced them to educate their children, and live after

the manner of the Achaeans; as though, while they kept to the

discipline of Lycurgus, there was no humbling their haughty spirits.

In their present distress and adversity they allowed Philopoemen thus

to cut the sinews of their commonwealth asunder, and behaved

themselves humbly and submissively.  But afterwards in no long time,

obtaining the support of the Romans, they abandoned their new Achaean

citizenship; and as much as in so miserable and ruined a condition

they could, reestablished their ancient discipline.

When the war betwixt Antiochus and the Romans broke out in Greece,

Philopoemen was a private man.  He repined grievously, when he saw

Antiochus lay idle at Chalcis, spending his time in unseasonable

courtship and weddings, while his men lay dispersed in several towns,

without order or commanders, and minding nothing but their pleasures.

He complained much that he was not himself in office, and said he

envied the Romans their victory; and that if he had had the fortune

to be then in command, he would have surprised and killed the whole

army in the taverns.

When Antiochus was overcome, the Romans pressed harder upon Greece,

and encompassed the Achaeans with their power; the popular leaders in

the several cities yielded before them; and their power speedily,

under the divine guidance, advanced to the consummation due to it in

the revolutions of fortune.  Philopoemen, in this conjuncture,

carried himself like a good pilot in a high sea, sometimes shifting

sail, and sometimes yielding, but still steering steady; and omitting

no opportunity nor effort to keep all who were considerable, whether

for eloquence or riches, fast to the defense of their common liberty.

Aristaenus, a Megalopolitan of great credit among the Achaeans, but

always a favorer of the Romans, saying one day in the senate, that

the Romans should not be opposed, or displeased in any way,

Philopoemen heard him with an impatient silence; but at last, not

able to hold longer, said angrily to him, "And why be in such haste,

wretched man, to behold the end of Greece?"  Manius, the Roman

consul, after the defeat of Antiochus, requested the Achaeans to

restore the banished Lacedaemonians to their country, which motion

was seconded and supported by all the interest of Titus.  But

Philopoemen crossed it, not from ill-will to the men, but that they

might be beholden to him and the Achaeans, not to Titus and the

Romans.  For when he came to be General himself, he restored them.

So impatient was his spirit of any subjection, and so prone his

nature to contest everything with men in power.

Being now threescore and ten, and the eighth time General, he was in

hope to pass in quiet, not only the year of his magistracy, but his

remaining life.  For as our diseases decline, as it is supposed, with

our declining bodily strength, so the quarreling humor of the Greeks

abated much with their failing political greatness.  But fortune or

some divine retributive power threw him down the in close of his life,

like a successful runner who stumbles at the goal.  It is reported,

that being in company where one was praised for a great commander, he

replied, there was no great account to be made of a man, who had

suffered himself to be taken alive by his enemies.

A few days after, news came that Dinocrates the Messenian, a

particular enemy to Philopoemen, and for his wickedness and villanies

generally hated, had induced Messene to revolt from the Achaeans, and

was about to seize upon a little place called Colonis.  Philopoemen

lay then sick of a fever at Argos.  Upon the news he hasted away, and

reached Megalopolis, which was distant above four hundred furlongs,

in a day.  From thence he immediately led out the horse, the noblest

of the city, young men in the vigor of their age, and eager to

proffer their service, both from attachment to Philopoemen, and zeal

for the cause.  As they marched towards Messene, they met with

Dinocrates, near the hill of Evander, charged and routed him.  But

five hundred fresh men, who, being left for a guard to the country,

came in late, happening to appear, the flying enemy rallied again

about the hills.  Philopoemen, fearing to be enclosed, and solicitous

for his men, retreated over ground extremely disadvantageous,

bringing up the rear himself.  As he often faced, and made charges

upon the enemy, he drew them upon himself; though they merely made

movements at a distance, and shouted about him, nobody daring to

approach him.  In his care to save every single man, he left his main

body so often, that at last he found himself alone among the thickest

of his enemies.  Yet even then none durst come up to him, but being

pelted at a distance, and driven to stony steep places, he had great

difficulty, with much spurring, to guide his horse aright.  His age

was no hindrance to him, for with perpetual exercise it was both

strong and active; but being weakened with sickness, and tired with

his long journey, his horse stumbling, he fell encumbered with his

arms, and faint, upon a hard and rugged piece of ground.  His head

received such a shock with the fall, that he lay awhile speechless,

so that the enemy, thinking him dead, began to turn and strip him.

But when they saw him lift up his head and open his eyes, they threw

themselves all together upon him, bound his hands behind him, and

carried him off, every kind of insult and contumely being lavished on

him who truly had never so much as dreamed of being led in triumph by

Dinocrates.

The Messenians, wonderfully elated with the news, thronged in swarms

to the city gates.  But when they saw Philopoemen in a posture so

unsuitable to the glory of his great actions and famous victories,

most of them, struck with grief and cursing the deceitful vanity of

human fortune, even shed tears of compassion at the spectacle.  Such

tears by little and little turned to kind words, and it was almost in

everybody's mouth that they ought to remember what he had done for

them, and how he had preserved the common liberty, by driving away

Nabis.  Some few, to make their court to Dinocrates, were for

torturing and then putting him to death as a dangerous and

irreconcilable enemy; all the more formitable to Dinocrates, who had

taken him prisoner, should he after this misfortune, regain his

liberty.  They put him at last into a dungeon underground, which they

called the treasury, a place into which there came no air nor light

from abroad; and, which, having no doors, was closed with a great

stone.  This they rolled into the entrance and fixed, and placing a

guard about it, left him.  In the mean time Philopoemen's soldiers,

recovering themselves after their flight, and fearing he was dead

when he appeared nowhere, made a stand, calling him with loud cries,

and reproaching one another with their unworthy and shameful escape;

having betrayed their general, who, to preserve their lives, had lost

his own.  Then returning after much inquiry and search, hearing at

last that he was taken, they sent away messengers round about with

the news.  The Achaeans resented the misfortune deeply, and decreed

to send and demand him; and, in the meantime, drew their army

together for his rescue.

While these things passed in Achaea, Dinocrates, fearing that any

delay would save Philopoemen, and resolving to be beforehand with the

Achaeans, as soon as night had dispersed the multitude, sent in the

executioner with poison, with orders not to stir from him till he had

taken it.  Philopoemen had then laid down, wrapt up in his cloak, not

sleeping, but oppressed with grief and trouble; but seeing light, and

a man with poison by him, struggled to sit up; and, taking the cup,

asked the man if he heard anything of the horsemen, particularly

Lycortas?  The fellow answering, that the most part had got off safe,

he nodded, and looking cheerfully upon him, "It is well," he said,

"that we have not been every way unfortunate;" and without a word

more, drank it off, and laid him down, again.  His weakness offering

but little resistance to the poison, it dispatched him presently.

The news of his death filled all Achaea with grief and lamentation.

The youth, with some of the chief of the several cities, met at

Megalopolis with a resolution to take revenge without delay.  They

chose Lycortas general, and falling upon the Messenians, put all to

fire and sword, till they all with one consent made their submission.

Dinocrates, with as many as had voted for Philopoemen's death,

anticipated their vengeance and killed themselves.  Those who would

have had him tortured, Lycortas put in chains and reserved for

severer punishment.  They burnt his body, and put the ashes into an

urn, and then marched homeward, not as in an ordinary march, but with

a kind of solemn pomp, half triumph, half funeral, crowns of victory

on their heads, and tears in their eyes, and their captive enemies in

fetters by them.  Polybius, the general's son, carried the urn, so

covered with garlands and ribbons as scarcely to be visible; and the

noblest of the Achaeans accompanied him.  The soldiers followed fully

armed and mounted, with looks neither altogether sad as in mourning,

nor lofty as in victory.  The people from all towns and villages in

their way, flocked out to meet him, as at his return from conquest,

and, saluting the urn, fell in with the company, and followed on to

Megalopolis; where, when the old men, the women and children were

mingled with the rest, the whole city was filled with sighs,

complaints, and cries, the loss of Philopoemen seeming to them the

loss of their own greatness, and of their rank among the Achaeans.

Thus he was honorably buried according to his worth, and the

prisoners were stoned about his tomb.

Many statues were set up, and many honors decreed to him by the

several cities.  One of the Romans in the time of Greece's

affliction, after the destruction of Corinth, publicly accusing

Philopoemen, as if he had been still alive, of having been the enemy

of Rome, proposed that these memorials should all be removed.  A

discussion ensued, speeches were made, and Polybius answered the

sycophant at large.  And neither Mummius nor the lieutenants would

suffer the honorable monuments of so great a man to be defaced,

though he had often crossed both Titus and Manius.  They justly

distinguished, and as became honest men, betwixt usefulness and

virtue, — what is good in itself, and what is profitable to

particular parties, — judging thanks and reward due to him who does

a benefit, from him who receives it, and honor never to be denied by

the good to the good.  And so much concerning Philopoemen.

FLAMININUS

What Titus Quintius Flamininus, whom we select as a parallel to

Philopoemen, was in personal appearance, those who are curious may

see by the brazen statue of him, which stands in Rome near that of

the great Apollo, brought from Carthage, opposite to the Circus

Maximus, with a Greek inscription upon it.  The temper of his mind is

said to have been of the warmest both in anger and in kindness; not

indeed equally so in both respects; as in punishing, he was ever

moderate, never inflexible; but whatever courtesy or good turn he set

about, he went through with it, and was as perpetually kind and

obliging to those on whom he had poured his favors, as if they, not

he, had been the benefactors:  exerting himself for the security and

preservation of what he seemed to consider his noblest possessions,

those to whom he had done good.  But being ever thirsty after honor,

and passionate for glory, if anything of a greater and more

extraordinary nature were to be done, he was eager to be the doer of

it himself; and took more pleasure in those that needed, than in

those that were capable of conferring favors; looking on the former

as objects for his virtue, and on the latter as competitors in glory.

Rome had then many sharp contests going on, and her youth betaking

themselves early to the wars, learned betimes the art of commanding;

and Flamininus, having passed through the rudiments of soldiery,

received his first charge in the war against Hannibal, as tribune

under Marcellus, then consul.  Marcellus, indeed, falling into an

ambuscade, was cut off.  But Titus, receiving the appointment of

governor, as well of Tarentum, then retaken, as of the country about

it, grew no less famous for his administration of justice, than for

his military skill.  This obtained him the office of leader and

founder of two colonies which were sent into the cities of Narnia and

Cossa; which filled him with loftier hopes, and made him aspire to

step over those previous honors which it was usual first to pass

through, the offices of tribune of the people, praetor and aedile,

and to level his aim immediately at the consulship.  Having these

colonies, and all their interest ready at his service, he offered

himself as candidate; but the tribunes of the people, Fulvius and

Manius, and their party, strongly opposed him; alleging how

unbecoming a thing it was, that a man of such raw years, one who was

yet, as it were, untrained, uninitiated in the first sacred rites and

mysteries of government, should, in contempt of the laws, intrude and

force himself into the sovereignty.

However, the senate remitted it to the people's choice and suffrage;

who elected him (though not then arrived at his thirtieth year)

consul with Sextus Aelius.  The war against Philip and the

Macedonians fell to Titus by lot, and some kind fortune, propitious

at that time to the Romans, seems to have so determined it; as

neither the people nor the state of things which were now to be dealt

with, were such as to require a general who would always be upon the

point of force and mere blows, but rather were accessible to

persuasion and gentle usage.  It is true that the kingdom of Macedon

furnished supplies enough to Philip for actual battle with the

Romans; but to maintain a long and lingering war, he must call in aid

from Greece; must thence procure his supplies; there find his means

of retreat; Greece, in a word, would be his resource for all the

requisites of his army.  Unless, therefore, the Greeks could be

withdrawn from siding with Philip, this war with him must not expect

its decision from a single battle.  Now Greece (which had not

hitherto held much correspondence with the Romans, but first began an

intercourse on this occasion) would not so soon have embraced a

foreign authority, instead of the commanders she had been inured to,

had not the general of these strangers been of a kind gentle nature,

one who worked rather by fair means than force; of a persuasive

address in all applications to others, and no less courteous, and

open to all addresses of others to him; and above all bent and

determined on justice.  But the story of his actions will best

illustrate these particulars.

Titus observed that both Sulpicius and Publius, who had been his

predecessors in that command, had not taken the field against the

Macedonians till late in the year; and then, too, had not set their

hands properly to the war, but had kept skirmishing and scouting here

and there for passes and provisions, and never came to close fighting

with Philip.  He resolved not to trifle away a year, as they had

done, at home in ostentation of the honor, and in domestic

administration, and only then to join the army, with the pitiful hope

of protracting the term of office through a second year, acting as

consul in the first, and as general in the latter.  He was, moreover,

infinitely desirous to employ his authority with effect upon the war,

which made him slight those home-honors and prerogatives.

Requesting, therefore, of the senate, that his brother Lucius might

act with him as admiral of the navy, and taking with him to be the

edge, as it were, of the expedition three thousand still young and

vigorous soldiers, of those who, under Scipio, had defeated Asdrubal

in Spain, and Hannibal in Africa, he got safe into Epirus; and found

Publius encamped with his army, over against Philip, who had long

made good the pass over the river Apsus, and the straits there;

Publius not having been able, for the natural strength of the place,

to effect anything against him.  Titus therefore took upon himself

the conduct of the army, and, having dismissed Publius, examined the

ground.  The place is in strength not inferior to Tempe, though it

lacks the trees and green woods, and the pleasant meadows and walks

that adorn Tempe.  The Apsus, making its way between vast and lofty

mountains which all but meet above a single deep ravine in the midst,

is not unlike the river Peneus, in the rapidity of its current, and

in its general appearance.  It covers the foot of those hills, and

leaves only a craggy, narrow path cut out beside the stream, not

easily passable at any time for an army, but not at all when guarded

by an enemy.

There were some, therefore, who would have had Titus make a circuit

through Dassaretis, and take an easy and safe road by the district of

Lyncus.  But he, fearing that if he should engage himself too far

from the sea in barren and untilled countries, and Philip should

decline fighting, he might, through want of provisions, be

constrained to march back again to the seaside without effecting

anything, as his predecessor had done before him, embraced the

resolution of forcing his way over the mountains.  But Philip, having

possessed himself of them with his army, showered down his darts and

arrows from all parts upon the Romans.  Sharp encounters took place,

and many fell wounded and slain on both sides, and there seemed but

little likelihood of thus ending the war; when some of the men, who

fed their cattle thereabouts, came to Titus with a discovery, that

there was a roundabout way which the enemy neglected to guard;

through which they undertook to conduct his army, and to bring it

within three days at furthest, to the top of the hills.  To gain the

surer credit with him, they said that Charops, son of Machatas, a

leading man in Epirus, who was friendly to the Romans, and aided them

(though, for fear of Philip, secretly), was privy to the design.

Titus gave their information belief, and sent a captain with four

thousand foot, and three hundred horse; these herdsmen being their

guides, but kept in bonds.  In the daytime they lay still under the

covert of the hollow and woody places, but in the night they marched

by moonlight, the moon being then at the full.  Titus, having

detached this party, lay quiet with his main body, merely keeping up

the attention of the enemy by some slight skirmishing.  But when the

day arrived, that those who stole round, were expected upon the top

of the hill, he drew up his forces early in the morning, as well the

light-armed as the heavy, and, dividing them into three parts,

himself led the van, marching his men up the narrow passage along the

bank, darted at by the Macedonians, and engaging, in this difficult

ground, hand to hand with his assailants; whilst the other two

divisions on either side of him, threw themselves with great alacrity

among the rocks.  Whilst they were struggling forward, the sun rose,

and a thin smoke, like a mist, hanging on the hills, was seen rising

at a distance, unperceived by the enemy, being behind them, as they

stood on the heights; and the Romans, also, as yet under suspense, in

the toil and difficulty they were in, could only doubtfully construe

the sight according to their desires.  But as it grew thicker and

thicker, blackening the air, and mounting to a greater height, they

no longer doubted but it was the fire-signal of their companions;

and, raising a triumphant shout, forcing their way onwards, they

drove the enemy back into the roughest ground; while the other party

echoed back their acclamations from the top of the mountain.

The Macedonians fled with all the speed they could make; there fell,

indeed, not more than two thousand of them; for the difficulties of

the place rescued them from pursuit.  But the Romans pillaged their

camp, seized upon their money and slaves, and, becoming absolute

masters of the pass, traversed all Epirus; but with such order and

discipline, with such temperance and moderation, that, though they

were far from the sea, at a great distance from their vessels, and

stinted of their monthly allowance of corn, and though they had much

difficulty in buying, they nevertheless abstained altogether from

plundering the country, which had provisions enough of all sorts in

it.  For intelligence being received that Philip making a flight,

rather than a march, through Thessaly, forced the inhabitants from

the towns to take shelter in the mountains, burnt down the towns

themselves, and gave up as spoil to his soldiers all the property

which it had been found impossible to remove, abandoning, as it would

seem, the whole country to the Romans.  Titus was, therefore, very

desirous, and entreated his soldiers that they would pass through it

as if it were their own, or as if a place trusted into their hands;

and, indeed, they quickly perceived, by the event, what benefit they

derived from this moderate and orderly conduct.  For they no sooner

set foot in Thessaly, but the cities opened their gates, and the

Greeks, within Thermopylae, were all eagerness and excitement to ally

themselves with them.  The Achaeans abandoned their alliance with

Philip, and voted to join with the Romans in actual arms against him;

and the Opuntians, though the Aetolians, who were zealous allies of

the Romans, were willing and desirous to undertake the protection of

the city, would not listen to proposals from them; but, sending for

Titus, entrusted and committed themselves to his charge.

It is told of Pyrrhus, that when first, from an adjacent hill or

watchtower which gave him a prospect of the Roman army, he descried

them drawn up in order, he observed, that he saw nothing

barbarian-like in this barbarian line of battle.  And all who came

near Titus, could not choose but say as much of him, at their first

view.  For they who had been told by the Macedonians of an invader,

at the head of a barbarian army, carrying everywhere slavery and

destruction on his sword's point; when in lieu of such an one, they

met a man, in the flower of his age, of a gentle and humane aspect, a

Greek in his voice and language, and a lover of honor, were

wonderfully pleased and attracted; and when they left him, they

filled the cities, wherever they went, with favorable feelings for

him, and with the belief that in him they might find the protector

and asserter of their liberties.  And when afterwards, on Philip's

professing a desire for peace, Titus made a tender to him of peace

and friendship, upon the condition that the Greeks be left to their

own laws, and that he should withdraw his garrisons, which he refused

to comply with, now after these proposals, the universal belief even

of the favorers and partisans of Philip, was, that the Romans came

not to fight against the Greeks, but for the Greeks, against the

Macedonians.

Accordingly, all the rest of Greece came to peaceable terms with him.

But as he marched into Boeotia, without committing the least act of

hostility, the nobility and chief men of Thebes came out of their

city to meet him, devoted under the influence of Brachylles to the

Macedonian alliance, but desirous at the same time to show honor and

deference to Titus; as they were, they conceived, in amity with both

parties.  Titus received them in the most obliging and courteous

manner, but kept going gently on, questioning and inquiring of them,

and sometimes entertaining them with narratives of his own, till his

soldiers might a little recover from the weariness of their journey.

Thus passing on, he and the Thebans came together into their city not

much to their satisfaction; but yet they could not well deny him

entrance, as a good number of his men attended him in.  Titus,

however, now he was within, as if he had not had the city at his

mercy, came forward and addressed them, urging them to join the Roman

interest.  King Attalus followed to the same effect.  And he, indeed,

trying to play the advocate, beyond what it seems his age could bear,

was seized, in the midst of his speech, with a sudden flux or

dizziness, and swooned away; and, not long after, was conveyed by

ship into Asia, and died there.  The Boeotians joined the Roman

alliance.

But now, when Philip sent an embassy to Rome, Titus dispatched away

agents on his part, too, to solicit the senate, if they should

continue the war, to continue him in his command, or if they

determined an end to that, that he might have the honor of concluding

the peace.  Having a great passion for distinction, his fear was,

that if another general were commissioned to carry on the war, the

honor even of what was passed, would be lost to him; and his friends

transacted matters so well on his behalf, that Philip was

unsuccessful in his proposals, and the management of the war was

confirmed in his hands.  He no sooner received the senate's

determination, but, big with hopes, he marches directly into

Thessaly, to engage Philip; his army consisting of twenty-six

thousand men, out of which the Aetolians furnished six thousand foot

and four hundred horse.  The forces of Philip were much about the

same number.  In this eagerness to encounter, they advanced against

each other, till both were near Scotussa, where they resolved to

hazard a battle.  Nor had the approach of these two formidable armies

the effect that might have been supposed, to strike into the generals

a mutual terror of each other; it rather inspired them with ardor and

ambition; on the Romans' part, to be the conquerors of Macedon, a

name which Alexander had made famous amongst them for strength and

valor; whilst the Macedonians, on the other hand, esteeming of the

Romans as an enemy very different from the Persians, hoped, if

victory stood on their side, to make the name of Philip more glorious

than that of Alexander.  Titus, therefore, called upon his soldiers

to play the part of valiant men, because they were now to act their

parts upon the most illustrious theater of the world, Greece, and to

contend with the bravest antagonists.  And Philip, on the other side,

commenced an harangue to his men, as usual before an engagement, and

to be the better heard, (whether it were merely a mischance, or the

result of unseasonable haste, not observing what he did,) mounted an

eminence outside their camp, which proved to be a burying-place; and

much disturbed by the despondency that seized his army at the

unluckiness of the omen, all that day kept in his camp, and declined

fighting.

But on the morrow, as day came on, after a soft and rainy night, the

clouds changing into a mist filled all the plain with thick darkness;

and a dense foggy air descending, by the time it was full day, from

the adjacent mountains into the ground betwixt the two camps,

concealed them from each other's view.  The parties sent out on

either side, some for ambuscade, some for discovery, falling in upon

one another quickly after they were thus detached, began the fight at

what are called the Cynos Cephalae, a number of sharp tops of hills

that stand close to one another, and have the name from some

resemblance in their shape.  Now many vicissitudes and changes

happening, as may well be expected, in such an uneven field of

battle, sometimes hot pursuit, and sometimes as rapid a flight, the

generals on both sides kept sending in succors from the main bodies,

as they saw their men pressed or giving ground, till at length the

heavens clearing up, let them see what was going on, upon which the

whole armies engaged.  Philip, who was in the right wing, from the

advantage of the higher ground which he had, threw on the Romans the

whole weight of his phalanx, with a force which they were unable to

sustain; the dense array of spears, and the pressure of the compact

mass overpowering them.  But the king's left wing being broken up by

the hilliness of the place, Titus observing it, and cherishing little

or no hopes on that side where his own gave ground, makes in all

haste to the other, and there charges in upon the Macedonians; who,

in consequence of the inequality and roughness of the ground, could

not keep their phalanx entire, nor line their ranks to any great

depth, (which is the great point of their strength,) but were forced

to fight man for man under heavy and unwieldy armor.  For the

Macedonian phalanx is like some single powerful animal, irresistible

so long as it is embodied into one, and keeps its order, shield

touching shield, all as in a piece; but if it be once broken, not

only is the joint-force lost, but the individual soldiers also who

composed it; lose each one his own single strength, because of the

nature of their armor; and because each of them is strong, rather, as

he makes a part of the whole, than in himself.  When these were

routed, some gave chase to the flyers, others charged the flanks of

those Macedonians who were still fighting, so that the conquering

wing, also, was quickly disordered, took to flight, and threw down

its arms.  There were then slain no less than eight thousand, and

about five thousand were taken prisoners; and the Aetolians were

blamed as having been the main occasion that Philip himself got safe

off.  For whilst the Romans were in pursuit, they fell to ravaging

and plundering the camp, and did it so completely, that when the

others returned, they found no booty in it.

This bred at first hard words, quarrels, and misunderstandings

betwixt them.  But, afterwards, they galled Titus more, by ascribing

the victory to themselves, and prepossessing the Greeks with reports

to that effect; insomuch that poets, and people in general in the

songs that were sung or written in honor of the action, still ranked

the Aetolians foremost.  One of the pieces most current was the

following epigram: —

Naked and tombless see, O passer-by,

The thirty thousand men of Thessaly,

Slain by the Aetolians and the Latin band,

That came with Titus from Italia's land:

Alas for mighty Macedon! that day,

Swift as a roe, king Philip fled away.

This was composed by Alcaeus in mockery of Philip, exaggerating the

number of the slain.  However, being everywhere repeated, and by

almost everybody, Titus was more nettled at it than Philip.  The

latter merely retorted upon Alcaeus with some elegiac verses of his

own: —

Naked and leafless see, O passer-by,

The cross that shall Alcaeus crucify.

But such little matters extremely fretted Titus, who was ambitious of

a reputation among the Greeks; and he, therefore, acted in all

after-occurrences by himself, paying but very slight regard to the

Aetolians.  This offended them in their turn; and when Titus listened

to terms of accommodation, and admitted an embassy upon the proffers

of the Macedonian king, the Aetolians made it their business to

publish through all the cities of Greece, that this was the

conclusion of all; that he was selling Philip a peace, at a time when

it was in his hand to destroy the very roots of the war, and to

overthrow the power which had first inflicted servitude upon Greece.

But whilst with these and the like rumors, the Aetolians labored to

shake the Roman confederates, Philip, making overtures of submission

of himself and his kingdom to the discretion of Titus and the Romans,

puts an end to those jealousies, as Titus by accepting them, did to

the war.  For he reinstated Philip in his kingdom of Macedon, but

made it a condition that he should quit Greece, and that he should

pay one thousand talents; he took from him also, all his shipping,

save ten vessels; and sent away Demetrius, one of his sons, hostage

to Rome; improving his opportunity to the best advantage, and taking

wise precautions for the future.  For Hannibal the African, a

professed enemy to the Roman name, an exile from his own country, and

not long since arrived at king Antiochus's court, was already

stimulating that prince, not to be wanting to the good fortune that

had been hitherto so propitious to his affairs; the magnitude of his

successes having gained him the surname of the Great.  He had begun

to level his aim at universal monarchy, but above all he was eager to

measure himself with the Romans.  Had not, therefore, Titus upon a

principle of prudence and foresight, lent all ear to peace, and had

Antiochus found the Romans still at war in Greece with Philip, and

had these two, the most powerful and warlike princes of that age,

confederated for their common interests against the Roman state, Rome

might once more have run no less a risk, and been reduced to no less

extremities than she had experienced under Hannibal.  But now, Titus

opportunely introducing this peace between the wars, dispatching the

present danger before the new one had arrived, at once disappointed

Antiochus of his first hopes, and Philip of his last.

When the ten commissioners, delegated to Titus from the senate;

advised him to restore the rest of Greece to their liberty, but that

Corinth, Chalcis, and Demetrias should be kept garrisoned for

security against Antiochus; the Aetolians, on this, breaking out into

loud accusations, agitated all the cities, calling upon Titus to

strike off the shackles of Greece, (so Philip used to term those

three cities,) and asking the Greeks, whether it were not matter of

much consolation to them, that, though their chains weighed heavier,

yet they were now smoother and better polished than formerly, and

whether Titus were not deservedly admired by them as their

benefactor, who had unshackled the feet of Greece, and tied her up by

the neck?  Titus, vexed and angry at this, made it his request to the

senate, and at last prevailed in it, that the garrisons in these

cities should be dismissed, that so the Greeks might be no longer

debtors to him for a partial, but for an entire, favor.  It was now

the time of the celebration of the Isthmian games; and the seats

around the racecourse were crowded with an unusual multitude of

spectators; Greece, after long wars, having regained not only peace,

but hopes of liberty, and being able once more to keep holiday in

safety.  A trumpet sounded to command silence; and the crier,

stepping forth amidst the spectators, made proclamation, that the

Roman senate, and Titus Quintius, the proconsular general, having

vanquished king Philip and the Macedonians, restored the Corinthians,

Locrians, Phocians, Euboeans, Achaeans of Phthiotis, Magnetians,

Thessalians, and Perrhaebians to their own lands, laws, and

liberties; remitting all impositions upon them, and withdrawing all

garrisons from their cities.  At first, many heard not at all, and

others not distinctly, what was said; but there was a confused and

uncertain stir among the assembled people, some wondering, some

asking, some calling out to have it proclaimed again.  When,

therefore, fresh silence was made, the crier raising his voice,

succeeded in making himself generally heard; and recited the decree

again.  A shout of joy followed it, so loud that it was heard as far

as the sea.  The whole assembly rose and stood up; there was no

further thought of the entertainment; all were only eager to leap up

and salute and address their thanks to the deliverer and champion of

Greece.  What we often hear alleged, in proof of the force of human

voices, was actually verified upon this occasion.  Crows that were

accidentally flying over the course, fell down dead into it.  The

disruption of the air must be the cause of it; for the voices being

numerous, and the acclamation violent, the air breaks with it, and

can no longer give support to the birds; but lets them tumble, like

one that should attempt to walk upon a vacuum; unless we should

rather imagine them to fall and die, shot with the noise as with a

dart.  It is possible, too, that there may be a circular agitation of

the air, which, like marine whirlpools, may have a violent direction

of this sort given to it from the excess of its fluctuation.

But for Titus, the sports being now quite at an end, so beset was he

on every side, and by such multitudes, that had he not, foreseeing

the probable throng and concourse of the people, timely withdrawn, he

would scarce, it is thought, have ever got clear of them.  When they

had tired themselves with acclamations all about his pavilion, and

night was now come, wherever friends or fellow-citizens met, they

joyfully saluted and embraced each other, and went home to feast and

carouse together.  And there, no doubt, redoubling their joy, they

began to recollect and talk of the state of Greece, what wars she had

incurred in defense of her liberty, and yet was never perhaps

mistress of a more settled or grateful one that this which other

men's labors had won for her:  almost without one drop of blood, or

one citizen's loss to be mourned for, she had this day had put into

her hands the most glorious of rewards, and best worth the contending

for.  Courage and wisdom are, indeed, rarities amongst men, but of

all that is good, a just man it would seem is the most scarce.  Such

as Agesilaus, Lysander, Nicias, and Alcibiades, knew how to play the

general's part, how to manage a war, how to bring off their men

victorious by land and sea; but how to employ that success to

generous and honest purposes, they had not known.  For should a man

except the achievement at Marathon, the sea-fight at Salamis, the

engagements at Plataea and Thermopylae, Cimon's exploits at

Eurymedon, and on the coasts of Cyprus, Greece fought all her battles

against, and to enslave, herself; she erected all her trophies to her

own shame and misery, and was brought to ruin and desolation almost

wholly by the guilt and ambition of her great men.  A foreign people,

appearing just to retain some embers, as it were, some faint

remainders of a common character derived to them from their ancient

sires, a nation from whom it was a mere wonder that Greece should

reap any benefit by word or thought, these are they who have

retrieved Greece from her severest dangers and distresses, have

rescued her out of the hands of insulting lords and tyrants, and

reinstated her in her former liberties.

Thus they entertained their tongues and thoughts; whilst Titus by his

actions made good what had been proclaimed.  For he immediately

dispatched away Lentulus to Asia, to set the Bargylians free,

Titillius to Thrace, to see the garrisons of Philip removed out of

the towns and islands there, while Publius Villius set sail, in order

to treat with Antiochus about the freedom of the Greeks under him.

Titus himself passed on to Chalcis, and sailing thence to Magnesia,

dismantled the garrisons there, and surrendered the government into

the people's hands.  Shortly after, he was appointed at Argos to

preside in the Nemean games, and did his part in the management of

that solemnity singularly well; and made a second publication there

by the crier, of liberty to the Greeks; and, visiting all the cities,

he exhorted them to the practice of obedience to law, of constant

justice, and unity, and friendship one towards another.  He

suppressed their factions, brought home their political exiles; and,

in short, his conquest over the Macedonians did not seem to give him

a more lively pleasure, than to find himself prevalent in reconciling

Greeks with Greeks; so that their liberty seemed now the least part

of the kindness he conferred upon them.

The story goes, that when Lycurgus the orator had rescued Xenocrates

the philosopher from the collectors who were hurrying him away to

prison for non-payment of the alien tax, and had them punished for

the license they had been guilty of, Xenocrates afterwards meeting

the children of Lycurgus, "My sons," said he, "I am nobly repaying

your father for his kindness; he has the praises of the whole people

in return for it."  But the returns which attended Titus Quintius and

the Romans, for their beneficence to the Greeks, terminated not in

empty praises only; for these proceedings gained them, deservedly,

credit and confidence, and thereby power, among all nations, for many

not only admitted the Roman commanders, but even sent and entreated

to be under their protection; neither was this done by popular

governments alone, or by single cities; but kings oppressed by kings,

cast themselves into these protecting hands.  Insomuch that in a very

short time (though perchance not without divine influence in it) all

the world did homage to them.  Titus himself thought more highly of

his liberation of Greece than of any other of his actions, as appears

by the inscription with which he dedicated some silver targets,

together with his own shield, to Apollo at Delphi: —

Ye Spartan Tyndarids, twin sons of Jove,

Who in swift horsemanship have placed your love,

Titus, of great Aeneas' race, leaves this

In honor of the liberty of Greece.

He offered also to Apollo a golden crown, with this inscription: —

This golden crown upon thy locks divine,

O blest Latona's son, was set to shine

By the great captain of the Aenean name.

O Phoebus, grant the noble Titus fame!

The same event has twice occurred to the Greeks in the city of

Corinth.  Titus, then, and Nero again in our days, both at Corinth,

and both alike at the celebration of the Isthmian games, permitted

the Greeks to enjoy their own laws and liberty.  The former (as has

been said) proclaimed it by the crier; but Nero did it in the public

meeting place from the tribunal, in a speech which he himself made to

the people.  This, however, was long after.

Titus now engaged in a most gallant and just war upon Nabis, that

most profligate and lawless tyrant of the Lacedaemonians, but in the

end disappointed the expectations of the Greeks.  For when he had an

opportunity of taking him, he purposely let it slip, and struck up a

peace with him, leaving Sparta to bewail an unworthy slavery; whether

it were that he feared, if the war should be protracted, Rome would

send a new general who might rob him of the glory of it; or that

emulation and envy of Philopoemen (who had signalized himself among

the Greeks upon all other occasions, but in that war especially had

done wonders both for matter of courage and counsel, and whom the

Achaeans magnified in their theaters, and put into the same balance

of glory with Titus,) touched him to the quick; and that he scorned

that an ordinary Arcadian, who had but commanded in a few re-

encounters upon the confines of his native district, should be spoken

of in terms of equality with a Roman consul, waging war as the

protector of Greece in general.  But, besides, Titus was not without

an apology too for what he did, namely, that he put an end to the war

only when he foresaw that the tyrant's destruction must have been

attended with the ruin of the other Spartans.

The Achaeans, by various decrees, did much to show Titus honor:  none

of these returns, however, seemed to come up to the height of the

actions that merited them, unless it were one present they made him,

which affected and pleased him beyond all the rest; which was this.

The Romans, who in the war with Hannibal had the misfortune to be

taken captives, were sold about here and there, and dispersed into

slavery; twelve hundred in number were at that time in Greece.  The

reverse of their fortune always rendered them objects of

compassion; but more particularly, as well might be, when they now

met, some with their sons, some with their brothers, others with

their acquaintance; slaves with their free, and captives with their

victorious countrymen.  Titus, though deeply concerned on their

behalf, yet took none of them from their masters by constraint.  But

the Achaeans, redeeming them at five pounds a man, brought them

altogether into one place, and made a present of them to him, as he

was just going on shipboard, so that he now sailed away with the

fullest satisfaction; his generous actions having procured him as

generous returns, worthy a brave man and a lover of his country.

This seemed the most glorious part of all his succeeding triumph; for

these redeemed Romans (as it is the custom for slaves, upon their

manumission, to shave their heads and wear felt-hats) followed in

that habit in the procession.  To add to the glory of this show,

there were the Grecian helmets, the Macedonian targets and long

spears, borne with the rest of the spoils in public view, besides

vast sums of money; Tuditanus says, 3,713 pounds weight of massy

gold, 43,270 of silver, 14,514 pieces of coined gold, called

Philippics, which was all over and above the thousand talents which

Philip owed, and which the Romans were afterwards prevailed upon,

chiefly by the mediation of Titus, to remit to Philip, declaring him

their ally and confederate, and sending him home his hostage son.

Shortly after, Antiochus entered Greece with a numerous fleet, and a

powerful army, soliciting the cities there to sedition and revolt;

abetted in all and seconded by the Aetolians, who for this long time

had borne a grudge and secret enmity to the Romans, and now suggested

to him, by way of a cause and pretext of war, that he came to bring

the Greeks liberty.  When, indeed, they never wanted it less, as they

were free already, but, in lack of really honorable grounds, he was

instructed to employ these lofty professions.  The Romans, in the

interim, in great apprehension of revolutions and revolt in Greece,

and of his great reputation for military strength, dispatched the

consul Manius Acilius to take the charge of the war, and Titus, as

his lieutenant, out of regard to the Greeks; some of whom he no

sooner saw, but he confirmed them in the Roman interests; others, who

began to falter, like a timely physician, by the use of the strong

remedy of their own affection for himself, he was able to arrest in

the first stage of the disease, before they had committed themselves

to any great error.  Some few there were whom the Aetolians were

beforehand with, and had so wholly perverted that he could do no good

with them; yet these, however angry and exasperated before, he saved

and protected when the engagement was over.  For Antiochus, receiving

a defeat at Thermopylae, not only fled the field, but hoisted sail

instantly for Asia.  Manius, the consul, himself invaded and besieged

a part of the Aetolians, while king Philip had permission to reduce

the rest.  Thus while, for instance, the Dolopes and Magnetians on

the one hand, the Athamanes and Aperantians on the other, were

ransacked by the Macedonians, and while Manius laid Heraclea waste,

and besieged Naupactus, then in the Aetolians' hands, Titus, still

with a compassionate care for Greece, sailed across from Peloponnesus

to the consul; and began first of all to chide him, that the victory

should be owing alone to his arms, and yet he should suffer Philip to

bear away the prize and profit of the war, and sit wreaking his anger

upon a single town, whilst the Macedonians overran several nations

and kingdoms.  But as he happened to stand then in view of the

besieged, they no sooner spied him out, but they call to him from

their wall, they stretch forth their hands, they supplicate and

entreat him.  At the time, he said not a word more, but turning about

with tears in his eyes, went his way.  Some little while after, he

discussed the matter so effectually with Manius, that he won him over

from his passion, and prevailed with him to give a truce and time to

the Aetolians, to send deputies to Rome to petition the senate for

terms of moderation.

But the hardest task, and that which put Titus to the greatest

difficulty was, to entreat with Manius for the Chalcidians, who had

incensed him on account of a marriage which Antiochus had made in

their city, even whilst the war was on foot; a match noways suitable

in point of age, he an elderly man being enamored with a mere girl;

and as little proper for the time, in the midst of a war.  She was

the daughter of one Cleoptolemus, and is said to have been

wonderfully beautiful.  The Chalcidians, in consequence, embraced the

king's interests with zeal and alacrity, and let him make their city

the basis of his operations during the war.  Thither, therefore, he

made with all speed, when he was routed, and fled; and reaching

Chalcis, without making any stay, taking this young lady, and his

money and friends with him, away he sails to Asia.  And now Manius's

indignation carrying him in all haste against the Chalcidians, Titus

hurried after him, endeavoring to pacify and to entreat him; and, at

length, succeeded both with him and the chief men among the Romans.

The Chalcidians, thus owing their lives to Titus, dedicated to him

all the best and most magnificent of their sacred buildings,

inscriptions upon which may be seen to run thus to this day:THE

PEOPLE DEDICATE THIS GYMNASIUM TO TITUS AND TO HERCULES; so again:

THE PEOPLE CONSECRATE THE DELPHINIUM TO TITUS AND TO HERCULES; and

what is yet more, even in our time, a priest of Titus was formally

elected and declared; and after sacrifice and libation, they sing a

set song, much of which for the length of it we omit, but shall

transcribe the closing verses: —

The Roman Faith, whose aid of yore,

Our vows were offered to implore,

We worship now and evermore.

To Rome, to Titus, and to Jove,

O maidens, in the dances move.

Dances and Io-Paeans too

Unto the Roman Faith are due,

O Savior Titus, and to you.

Other parts of Greece also heaped honors upon him suitable to his

merits, and what made all those honors true and real, was the

surprising good-will and affection which his moderation and equity of

character had won for him.  For if he were at any time at variance

with anybody in matters of business, or out of emulation and rivalry,

(as with Philopoemen, and again with Diophanes, when in office as

General of the Achaeans,) his resentment never went far, nor did it

ever break out into acts; but when it had vented itself in some

citizen-like freedom of speech, there was an end of it.  In fine,

nobody charged malice or bitterness upon his nature, though many

imputed hastiness and levity to it; in general, he was the most

attractive and agreeable of companions, and could speak too, both

with grace, and forcibly.  For instance, to divert the Achaeans from

the conquest of the isle of Zacynthus, "If," said he, "they put their

head too far out of Peloponnesus, they may hazard themselves as much

as a tortoise out of its shell."  Again, when he and Philip first met

to treat of a cessation and peace, the latter complaining that Titus

came with a mighty train, while he himself came alone and unattended,

"Yes," replied Titus, "you have left yourself alone by killing your

friends."  At another time, Dinocrates the Messenian, having drunk

too much at a merry-meeting in Rome, danced there in woman's clothes,

and the next day addressed himself to Titus for assistance in his

design to get Messene out of the hands of the Achaeans.  "This,"

replied Titus, "will be matter for consideration; my only surprise is

that a man with such purposes on his hands should be able to dance

and sing at drinking parties."  When, again, the ambassadors of

Antiochus were recounting to those of Achaea, the various multitudes

composing their royal master's forces, and ran over a long catalog of

hard names, "I supped once," said Titus, "with a friend, and could

not forbear expostulating with him at the number of dishes he had

provided, and said I wondered where he had furnished himself with

such a variety; 'Sir,' replied he, 'to confess the truth, it is all

hog's flesh differently cooked.'  And so, men of Achaea, when you are

told of Antiochus's lancers, and pikemen, and foot guards, I advise

you not to be surprised; since in fact they are all Syrians

differently armed."

After his achievements in Greece, and when the war with Antiochus was

at an end, Titus was created censor; the most eminent office, and, in

a manner, the highest preferment in the commonwealth.  The son of

Marcellus, who had been five times consul, was his colleague.  These,

by virtue of their office, cashiered four senators of no great

distinction, and admitted to the roll of citizens all freeborn

residents.  But this was more by constraint than their own choice;

for Terentius Culeo, then tribune of the people, to spite the

nobility, spurred on the populace to order it to be done.  At this

time, the two greatest and most eminent persons in the city,

Africanus Scipio and Marcus Cato, were at variance.  Titus named

Scipio first member of the senate;  and involved himself in a

quarrel with Cato, on the following unhappy occasion.  Titus had a

brother, Lucius Flamininus, very unlike him in all points of

character, and, in particular, low and dissolute in his pleasures,

and flagrantly regardless of all decency.  He kept as a companion a

boy whom he used to carry about with him, not only when he had troops

under his charge, but even when the care of a province was committed

to him.  One day at a drinking-bout, when the youngster was wantoning

with Lucius, "I love you, Sir, so dearly," said he, "that, preferring

your satisfaction to my own, I came away without seeing the

gladiators, though I have never seen a man killed in my life."

Lucius, delighted with what the boy said, answered, "Let not that

trouble you; I can satisfy that longing," and with that, orders a

condemned man to be fetched out of the prison, and the executioner to

be sent for, and commands him to strike off the man's head, before

they rose from table.  Valerius Antias only so far varies the story

as to make it woman for whom he did it.  But Livy says that in Cato's

own speech the statement is, that a Gaulish deserter coming with his

wife and children to the door, Lucius took him into the

banqueting-room, and killed him with his own hand, to gratify his

paramour.  Cato, it is probable, might say this by way of aggravation

of the crime; but that the slain was no such fugitive, but a

prisoner, and one condemned to die, not to mention other authorities,

Cicero tells us in his treatise On Old Age, where he brings in Cato,

himself, giving that account of the matter.

However, this is certain; Cato during his censorship, made a severe

scrutiny into the senators' lives in order to the purging and

reforming the house, and expelled Lucius, though he had been once

consul before, and though the punishment seemed to reflect dishonor

on his brother also.  Both of them presented themselves to the

assembly of the people in a suppliant manner, not without tears in

their eyes, requesting that Cato might show the reason and cause of

his fixing such a stain upon so honorable a family.  The citizens

thought it a modest and moderate request.  Cato, however, without any

retraction or reserve, at once came forward, and standing up with his

colleague interrogated Titus, as to whether he knew the story of the

supper.  Titus answering in the negative, Cato related it, and

challenged Lucius to a formal denial of it.  Lucius made no reply,

whereupon the people adjudged the disgrace just and suitable, and

waited upon Cato home from the tribunal in great state.  But Titus

still so deeply resented his brother's degradation, that he allied

himself with those who had long borne a grudge against Cato; and

winning over a major part of the senate, he revoked and made void all

the contracts, leases, and bargains made by Cato, relating to the

public revenues, and also got numerous actions and accusations

brought against him; carrying on against a lawful magistrate and

excellent citizen, for the sake of one who was indeed his relation,

but was unworthy to be so, and had but gotten his deserts, a course

of bitter and violent attacks, which it would be hard to say were

either right or patriotic.  Afterwards, however, at a public

spectacle in the theater, at which the senators appeared as usual,

sitting, as became their rank, in the first seats, when Lucius was

spied at the lower end, seated in a mean, dishonorable place, it made

a great impression upon the people, nor could they endure the sight,

but kept calling out to him to move, until he did move, and went in

among those of consular dignity, who received him into their seats.

This natural ambition of Titus was well enough looked upon by the

world, whilst the wars we have given a relation of afforded competent

fuel to feed it; as, for instance, when after the expiration of his

consulship, he had a command as military tribune, which nobody

pressed upon him.  But being now out of all employ in the government,

and advanced in years, he showed his defects more plainly; allowing

himself, in this inactive remainder of life, to be carried away with

the passion for reputation, as uncontrollably as any youth.  Some

such transport, it is thought, betrayed him into a proceeding against

Hannibal, which lost him the regard of many.  For Hannibal, having

fled his country, first took sanctuary with Antiochus; but he having

been glad to obtain a peace, after the battle in Phrygia, Hannibal

was put to shift for himself, by a second flight, and, after

wandering through many countries, fixed at length in Bithynia,

proffering his service to king Prusias.  Every one at Rome knew where

he was, but looked upon him, now in his weakness and old age, with no

sort of apprehension, as one whom fortune had quite cast off.  Titus,

however, coming thither as ambassador, though he was sent from the

senate to Prusias upon another errand, yet, seeing Hannibal resident

there, it stirred up resentment in him to find that he was yet alive.

And though Prusias used much intercession and entreaties in favor of

him, as his suppliant and familiar friend, Titus was not to be

entreated.  There was an ancient oracle, it seems, which prophesied

thus of Hannibal's end: —

Libyssan shall Hannibal enclose.

He interpreted this to be meant of the African Libya, and that he

should be buried in Carthage; as if he might yet expect to return and

end his life there.  But there is a sandy place in Bithynia,

bordering on the sea, and near it a little village called Libyssa.

It was Hannibal's chance to be staying here, and having ever from the

beginning had a distrust of the easiness and cowardice of Prusias,

and a fear of the Romans, he had, long before, ordered seven

underground passages to be dug from his house, leading from his

lodging, and running a considerable distance in various opposite

directions, all undiscernible from without.  As soon, therefore, as

he heard what Titus had ordered, he attempted to make his escape

through these mines; but finding them beset with the king's guards,

he resolved upon making away with himself.  Some say that wrapping

his upper garment about his neck, he commanded his servant to set his

knee against his back, and not to cease twisting and pulling it, till

he had completely strangled him.  Others say, he drank bull's blood,

after the example of Themistocles and Midas.  Livy writes that he had

poison in readiness, which he mixed for the purpose, and that taking

the cup into his hand, "Let us ease," said he, "the Romans of their

continual dread and care, who think it long and tedious to await the

death of a hated old man.  Yet Titus will not bear away a glorious

victory, nor one worthy of those ancestors who sent to caution

Pyrrhus, an enemy, and a conqueror too, against the poison prepared

for him by traitors."

Thus venous are the reports of Hannibal's death; but when the news of

it came to the senators' ears, some felt indignation against Titus

for it, blaming as well his officiousness as his cruelty; who, when

there was nothing to urge it, out of mere appetite for distinction,

to have it said that he had caused Hannibal's death, sent him to his

grave when he was now like a bird that in its old age has lost its

feathers, and incapable of flying is let alone to live tamely without

molestation.

They began also now to regard with increased admiration the clemency

and magnanimity of Scipio Africanus, and called to mind how he, when

he had vanquished in Africa the till then invincible and terrible

Hannibal, neither banished him his country, nor exacted of his

countrymen that they should give him up.  At a parley just before

they joined battle, Scipio gave him his hand, and in the peace made

after it, he put no hard article upon him, nor insulted over his

fallen fortune.  It is told, too, that they had another meeting

afterwards, at Ephesus, and that when Hannibal, as they were walking

together, took the upper hand, Africanus let it pass, and walked on

without the least notice of it; and that then they began to talk of

generals, and Hannibal affirmed that Alexander was the greatest

commander the world had seen, next to him Pyrrhus, and the third was

himself; Africanus, with a smile, asked, "What would you have said,

if I had not defeated you?"  "I would not then, Scipio," he replied,

"have made myself the third, but the first commander."  Such conduct

was much admired in Scipio, and that of Titus, who had as it were

insulted the dead whom another had slain, was no less generally found

fault with.  Not but that there were some who applauded the action,

looking upon a living Hannibal as a fire, which only wanted blowing

to become a flame.  For when he was in the prime and flower of his

age, it was not his body, nor his hand, that had been so formidable,

but his consummate skill and experience, together with his innate

malice and rancor against the Roman name, things which do not impair

with age.  For the temper and bent of the soul remains constant,

while fortune continually varies; and some new hope might easily

rouse to a fresh attempt those whose hatred made them enemies to the

last.  And what really happened afterwards does to a certain extent

tend yet further to the exculpation of Titus.  Aristonicus, of the

family of a common musician, upon the reputation of being the son of

Eumenes, filled all Asia with tumults and rebellion.  Then again,

Mithridates, after his defeats by Sylla and Fimbria, and vast

slaughter, as well among his prime officers as common soldiers, made

head again, and proved a most dangerous enemy, against Lucullus, both

by sea and land.  Hannibal was never reduced to so contemptible a

state as Caius Marius; he had the friendship of a king, and the free

exercise of his faculties, employment and charge in the navy, and

over the horse and foot, of Prusias; whereas those who but now were

laughing to hear of Marius wandering about Africa, destitute and

begging, in no long time after were seen entreating his mercy in

Rome, with his rods at their backs, and his axes at their necks.  So

true it is, that looking to the possible future, we can call nothing

that we see either great or small; as nothing puts an end to the

mutability and vicissitude of things, but what puts an end to their

very being.  Some authors accordingly tell us, that Titus did not do

this of his own head, but that he was joined in commission with

Lucius Scipio, and that the whole object of the embassy was, to

effect Hannibal's death.  And now, as we find no further mention in

history of anything done by Titus, either in war or in the

administration of the government, but simply that he died in peace;

it is time to look upon him as he stands in comparison with

Philopoemen.

COMPARISON OF PHILOPOEMEN WITH FLAMININUS

First, then, as for the greatness of the benefits which Titus

conferred on Greece, neither Philopoemen, nor many braver men than

he, can make good the parallel.  They were Greeks fighting against

Greeks, but Titus, a stranger to Greece, fought for her.  And at the

very time when Philopoemen went over into Crete, destitute of means

to succor his besieged countrymen, Titus, by a defeat given to Philip

in the heart of Greece, set them and their cities free.  Again, if we

examine the battles they fought, Philopoemen, whilst he was the

Achaeans' general, slew more Greeks than Titus, in aiding the Greeks,

slew Macedonians.  As to their failings, ambition was Titus's weak

side, and obstinacy Philopoemen's; in the former, anger was easily

kindled, in the latter, it was as hardly quenched.  Titus reserved to

Philip the royal dignity; he pardoned the Aetolians, and stood their

friend; but Philopoemen, exasperated against his country, deprived it

of its supremacy over the adjacent villages.  Titus was ever constant

to those he had once befriended, the other, upon any offense, as

prone to cancel kindnesses.  He who had once been a benefactor to the

Lacedaemonians, afterwards laid their walls level with the ground,

wasted their country, and in the end changed and destroyed the whole

frame of their government.  He seems, in truth, to have prodigalled

away his own life, through passion and perverseness; for he fell upon

the Messenians, not with that conduct and caution that characterized

the movements of Titus, but with unnecessary and unreasonable haste.

The many battles he fought, and the many trophies he won, may make

us ascribe to Philopoemen the more thorough knowledge of war.  Titus

decided the matter betwixt Philip and himself in two engagements; but

Philopoemen came off victorious in ten thousand encounters, to all

which fortune had scarcely any presence, so much were they owing to

his skill.  Besides, Titus got his renown, assisted by the power of a

flourishing Rome; the other flourished under a declined Greece, so

that his successes may be accounted his own; in Titus's glory Rome

claims a share.  The one had brave men under him, the other made his

brave, by being over them.  And though Philopoemen was unfortunate

certainly, in always being opposed to his countrymen, yet this

misfortune is at the same time a proof of his merit.  Where the

circumstances are the same, superior success can only be ascribed to

superior merit.  And he had, indeed, to do with the two most warlike

nations of all Greece, the Cretans on the one hand, and the

Lacedaemonians on the other, and he mastered the craftiest of them by

art and the bravest of them by valor.  It may also be said that

Titus, having his men armed and disciplined to his hand, had in a

manner his victories made for him; whereas Philopoemen was forced to

introduce a discipline and tactics of his own, and to new-mold and

model his soldiers; so that what is of greatest import towards

insuring a victory was in his case his own creation, while the other

had it ready provided for his benefit.  Philopoemen effected many

gallant things with his own hand, but Titus none; so much so that one

Archedemus, an Aetolian, made it a jest against him that while he,

the Aetolian, was running with his drawn sword, where he saw the

Macedonians drawn up closest and fighting hardest, Titus was standing

still, and with hands stretched out to heaven, praying to the gods

for aid.

It is true, Titus acquitted himself admirably, both as a governor,

and as an ambassador; but Philopoemen was no less serviceable and

useful to the Achaeans in the capacity of a private man, than in that

of a commander.  He was a private citizen when he restored the

Messenians to their liberty, and delivered their city from Nabis; he

was also a private citizen when he rescued the Lacedaemonians, and

shut the gates of Sparta against the General Diophanes, and Titus.

He had a nature so truly formed for command that he could govern even

the laws themselves for the public good; he did not need to wait for

the formality of being elected into command by the governed, but

employed their service, if occasion required, at his own discretion;

judging that he who understood their real interests, was more truly

their supreme magistrate, than he whom they had elected to the

office.  The equity, clemency, and humanity of Titus towards the

Greeks, display a great and generous nature; but the actions of

Philopoemen, full of courage, and forward to assert his country's

liberty against the Romans, have something yet greater and nobler in

them.  For it is not as hard a task to gratify the indigent and

distressed, as to bear up against, and to dare to incur the anger of

the powerful.  To conclude, since it does not appear to be easy, by

any review or discussion, to establish the true difference of their

merits, and decide to which a preference is due, will it be an unfair

award in the case, if we let the Greek bear away the crown for

military conduct and warlike skill, and the Roman for justice and

clemency?

PYRRHUS

Of the Thesprotians and Molossians after the great inundation, the

first king, according to some historians, was Phaethon, one of those

who came into Epirus with Pelasgus.  Others tell us that Deucalion

and Pyrrha, having set up the worship of Jupiter at Dodona, settled

there among the Molossians.  In after time, Neoptolemus, Achilles's

son, planting a colony, possessed these parts himself, and left a

succession of kings, who, after him, were named Pyrrhidae; as he in

his youth was called Pyrrhus, and of his legitimate children, one

born of Lanassa, daughter of Cleodaeus, Hyllus's son, had also that

name.  From him, Achilles came to have divine honors in Epirus, under

the name of Aspetus, in the language of the country.  After these

first kings, those of the following intervening times becoming

barbarous, and insignificant both in their power and their lives,

Tharrhypas is said to have been the first, who by introducing Greek

manners and learning, and humane laws into his cities, left any fame

of himself.  Alcetas was the son of Tharrhypas, Arybas of Alcetas,

and of Arybas and Troas his queen, Aeacides:  he married Phthia, the

daughter of Menon, the Thessalian, a man of note at the time off the

Lamiac war, and of highest command in the confederate army next to

Leosthenes.  To Aeacides were born of Phthia, Deidamia and Troas

daughters, and Pyrrhus a son.

The Molossians, afterwards falling into factions, and expelling

Aeacides, brought in the sons of Neoptolemus, and such friends of

Aeacides as they could take were all cut off; Pyrrhus, yet an infant,

and searched for by the enemy, had been stolen away and carried off

by Androclides end Angelus; who, however, being obliged to take with

them a few servants, and women to nurse the child, were much impeded

and retarded in their flight, and when they were now overtaken, they

delivered the infant to Androcleon, Hippias, and Neander, faithful

and able young fellows, giving them in charge to make for Megara, a

town of Macedon, with all their might, while they themselves, partly

by entreaty, and partly by force, stopped the course of the pursuers

till late in the evening.  At last, having hardly forced them back,

they joined those who had the care of Pyrrhus; but the sun being

already set, at the point of attaining their object they suddenly

found themselves cut off from it.  For on reaching the river that

runs by the city they found it looking formidable and rough, and

endeavoring to pass over, they discovered it was not fordable; late

rains having heightened the water, and made the current violent.  The

darkness of the night added to the horror of all, so that they durst

not venture of themselves to carry over the child and the women that

attended it; but, perceiving some of the country people on the other

side, they desired them to assist their passage, and showed them

Pyrrhus, calling out aloud, and importuning them.  They, however,

could not hear for the noise and roaring of the water.  Thus time was

spent while those called out, and the others did not understand what

was said, till one recollecting himself, stripped off a piece of bark

from an oak, and wrote on it with the tongue of a buckle, stating the

necessities and the fortunes of the child, and then rolling it about

a stone, which was made use of to give force to the motion, threw it

over to the other side, or, as some say, fastened it to the end of a

javelin, and darted it over.  When the men on the other shore read

what was on the bark, and saw how time pressed, without delay they

cut down some trees, and lashing them together, came over to them.

And it so fell out, that he who first got ashore, and took Pyrrhus in

his arms, was named Achilles, the rest being helped over by others as

they came to hand.

Thus being safe, and out of the reach of pursuit, they addressed

themselves to Glaucias, then king of the Illyrians, and finding him

sitting at home with his wife, they laid down the child before them.

The king began to weigh the matter, fearing Cassander, who was a

mortal enemy of Aeacides, and, being in deep consideration, said

nothing for a long time; while Pyrrhus, crawling about on the ground,

gradually got near and laid hold with his hand upon the king's robe,

and so helping himself upon his feet against the knees of Glaucias,

first moved laughter, and then pity, as a little humble, crying

petitioner.  Some say he did not throw himself before Glaucias, but

catching hold of an altar of the gods, and spreading his hands about

it, raised himself up by that; and that Glaucias took the act as an

omen.  At present, therefore, he gave Pyrrhus into the charge of his

wife, commanding he should be brought up with his own children; and a

little after, the enemies sending to demand him, and Cassander

himself offering two hundred talents, he would not deliver him up;

but when he was twelve years old, bringing him with an army into

Epirus, made him king.  Pyrrhus in the air of his face had something

more of the terrors, than of the augustness of kingly power; he had

not a regular set of upper teeth, but in the place of them one

continued bone, with small lines marked on it, resembling the

divisions of a row of teeth.  It was a general belief he could cure

the spleen, by sacrificing a white cock, and gently pressing with his

right foot on the spleen of the persons as they lay down on their

backs, nor was any one so poor or inconsiderable as not to be

welcome, if he desired it, to the benefit of his touch.  He accepted

the cock for the sacrifice as a reward, and was always much pleased

with the present.  The large toe of that foot was said to have a

divine virtue; for after his death, the rest of the body being

consumed, this was found unhurt and untouched by the fire.  But of

these things hereafter.

Being now about seventeen years old, and the government in appearance

well settled, he took a journey out of the kingdom to attend the

marriage of one of Glaucias's sons, with whom he was brought up; upon

which opportunity the Molossians again rebelling, turned out all of

his party, plundered his property, and gave themselves up to

Neoptolemus.  Pyrrhus, having thus lost the kingdom, and being in

want of all things, applied to Demetrius the son of Antigonus, the

husband of his sister Deidamia, who, while she was but a child, had

been in name the wife of Alexander, son of Roxana, but their affairs

afterwards proving unfortunate, when she came to age, Demetrius

married her.  At the great battle of Ipsus, where so many kings were

engaged, Pyrrhus, taking part with Demetrius, though yet but a youth,

routed those that encountered him, and highly signalized himself

among all the soldiery; and afterwards, when Demetrius's fortunes

were low, he did not forsake him then, but secured for him the cities

of Greece with which he was entrusted; and upon articles of agreement

being made between Demetrius and Ptolemy, he went over as an hostage

for him into Egypt, where both in hunting and other exercises, he

gave Ptolemy an ample proof of his courage and strength.  Here

observing Berenice in greatest power, and of all Ptolemy's wives

highest in esteem for virtue and understanding, he made his court

principally to her.  He had a particular art of gaining over the

great to his own interest, as on the other hand he readily overlooked

such as were below him; and being also well-behaved and temperate in

his life, among all the young princes then at court, he was thought

most fit to have Antigone for his wife, one of the daughters of

Berenice by Philip, before she married Ptolemy.

After this match, advancing in honor, and Antigone being a very good

wife to him, having procured a sum of money, and raised an army, he

so ordered matters as to be sent into his kingdom of Epirus, and

arrived there to the great satisfaction of many, from their hate to

Neoptolemus, who was governing in a violent and arbitrary way.  But

fearing lest Neoptolemus should enter into alliance with some

neighboring princes, he came to terms and friendship with him,

agreeing that they should share the government between them.  There

were people, however, who, as time went on, secretly exasperated

them, and fomented jealousies between them.  The cause chiefly moving

Pyrrhus is said to have had this beginning.  It was customary for the

kings to offer sacrifice to Mars, at Passaro, a place in the

Molossian country, and that done to enter into a solemn covenant with

the Epirots; they to govern according to law, these to preserve the

government as by law established.  This was performed in the presence

of both kings, who were there with their immediate friends, giving

and receiving many presents; here Gelo, one of the friends of

Neoptolemus, taking Pyrrhus by the hand, presented him with two pair

of draught oxen.  Myrtilus, his cup-bearer, being then by, begged

these of Pyrrhus, who not giving them to him, but to another,

Myrtilus extremely resented it, which Gelo took notice of, and,

inviting him to a banquet, (amidst drinking and other excesses, as

some relate, Myrtilus being then in the flower of his youth,) he

entered into discourse, persuading him to adhere to Neoptolemus, and

destroy Pyrrhus by poison.  Myrtilus received the design, appearing

to approve and consent to it, but privately discovered it to Pyrrhus,

by whose command he recommended Alexicrates, his chief cup-bearer, to

Gelo, as a fit instrument for their design, Pyrrhus being very

desirous to have proof of the plot by several evidences.  So Gelo

being deceived, Neoptolemus, who was no less deceived, imagining the

design went prosperously on, could not forbear, but in his joy spoke

of it among his friends, and once at an entertainment at his sister

Cadmea's, talked openly of it, thinking none heard but themselves.

Nor was anyone there but Phaenarete the wife of Samon, who had the

care of Neoptolemus's flocks and herds.  She, turning her face

towards the wall upon a couch, seemed fast asleep, and having heard

all that passed, unsuspected, next day came to Antigone, Pyrrhus's

wife, and told her what she had heard Neoptolemus say to his sister.

On understanding which Pyrrhus for the present said little, but on a

sacrifice day, making an invitation for Neoptolemus, killed him;

being satisfied before that the great men of the Epirots were his

friends, and that they were eager for him to rid himself of

Neoptolemus, and not to content himself with a mere petty share of

the government, but to follow his own natural vocation to great

designs, and now when just ground of suspicion appeared, to

anticipate Neoptolemus by taking him off first.

In memory of Berenice and Ptolemy, he named his son by Antigone,

Ptolemy, and having built a city in the peninsula of Epirus, called

it Berenicis.  From this time he began to revolve many and vast

projects in his thoughts; but his first special hope and design lay

near home, and he found means to engage himself in the Macedonian

affairs under the following pretext.  Of Cassander's sons, Antipater,

the eldest, killed Thessalonica his mother, and expelled his brother

Alexander, who sent to Demetrius entreating his assistance, and also

called in Pyrrhus; but Demetrius being retarded by multitude of

business, Pyrrhus, coming first, demanded in reward of his service

the districts called Tymphaea and Parauaea in Macedon itself, and, of

their new conquests, Ambracia, Acarnania, and Amphilochia.  The young

prince giving way, he took possession of these countries, and secured

them with good garrisons, and proceeded to reduce for Alexander

himself other parts of the kingdom which he gained from Antipater.

Lysimachus, designing to send aid to Antipater, was involved in much

other business, but knowing Pyrrhus would not disoblige Ptolemy, or

deny him anything, sent pretended letters to him as from Ptolemy,

desiring him to give up his expedition, upon the payment of three

hundred talents to him by Antipater.  Pyrrhus, opening the letter,

quickly discovered the fraud of Lysimachus; for it had not the

accustomed style of salutation, "The father to the son, health," but

"King Ptolemy to Pyrrhus, the king, health;" and reproaching

Lysimachus, he notwithstanding made a peace, and they all met to

confirm it by a solemn oath upon sacrifice.  A goat, a bull, and a

ram being brought out, the ram on a sudden fell dead.  The others

laughed, but Theodotus the prophet forbade Pyrrhus to swear,

declaring that Heaven by that portended the death of one of the three

kings, upon which he refused to ratify the peace.

The affairs of Alexander being now in some kind of settlement,

Demetrius arrived, contrary, as soon appeared, to the desire and

indeed not without the alarm of Alexander.  After they had been a few

days together, their mutual jealousy led them to conspire against

each other; and Demetrius taking advantage of the first occasion, was

beforehand with the young king, and slew him, and proclaimed himself

king of Macedon.  There had been formerly no very good understanding

between him and Pyrrhus; for besides the inroads he made into

Thessaly, the innate disease of princes, ambition of greater empire,

had rendered them formidable and suspected neighbors to each other,

especially since Deidamia's death; and both having seized Macedon,

they came into conflict for the same object, and the difference

between them had the stronger motives.  Demetrius having first

attacked the Aetolians and subdued them, left Pantauchus there with a

considerable army, and marched direct against Pyrrhus, and Pyrrhus,

as he thought, against him; but by mistake of the ways they passed by

one another, and Demetrius falling into Epirus wasted the country,

and Pyrrhus, meeting with Pantauchus, prepared for an engagement.

The soldiers fell to, and there was a sharp and terrible conflict,

especially where the generals were.  Pantauchus, in courage,

dexterity, and strength of body, being confessedly the best of all

Demetrius's captains, and having both resolution and high spirit,

challenged Pyrrhus to fight hand to hand; on the other side Pyrrhus,

professing not to yield to any king in valor and glory, and esteeming

the fame of Achilles more truly to belong to him for his courage than

for his blood, advanced against Pantauchus through the front of the

army.  First they used their lances, then came to a close fight, and

managed their swords both with art and force; Pyrrhus receiving one

wound, but returning two for it, one in the thigh, the other near the

neck, repulsed and overthrew Pantauchus, but did not kill him

outright, as he was rescued by his friends.  But the Epirots

exulting in the victory of their king, and admiring his courage,

forced through and cut in pieces the phalanx of the Macedonians, and

pursuing those that fled, killed many, and took five thousand

prisoners.

This fight did not so much exasperate the Macedonians with anger for

their loss, or with hatred to Pyrrhus, as it caused esteem, and

admiration of his valor, and great discourse of him among those that

saw what he did, and were engaged against him in the action.  They

thought his countenance, his swiftness, and his motions expressed

those of the great Alexander, and that they beheld here an image and

resemblance of his rapidity and strength in fight; other kings merely

by their purple and their guards, by the formal bending of their

necks, and lofty tone of speech, Pyrrhus only by arms, and in action,

represented Alexander.  Of his knowledge of military tactics and the

art of a general, and his great ability that way, we have the best

information from the commentaries he left behind him.  Antigonus,

also, we are told, being asked who was the greatest soldier, said,

"Pyrrhus, if he lives to be old," referring only to those of his own

time; but Hannibal of all great commanders esteemed Pyrrhus for skill

and conduct the first, Scipio the second, and himself the third, as

is related in the life of Scipio.  In a word, he seemed ever to make

this all his thought and philosophy, as the most kingly part of

learning; other curiosities he held in no account.  He is reported,

when asked at a feast whether he thought Python or Caphisias the best

musician, to have said, Polysperchon was the best soldier, as though

it became a king to examine and understand only such things.  Towards

his familiars he was mild, and not easily incensed; zealous, and even

vehement in returning kindnesses.  Thus when Aeropus was dead, he

could not bear it with moderation, saying, he indeed had suffered

what was common to human nature, but condemning and blaming himself,

that by puttings off and delays he had not returned his kindness in

time.  For our debts may be satisfied to the creditor's heirs, but

not to have made the acknowledgment of received favors, while they to

whom it is due can be sensible of it, afflicts a good and a worthy

nature.  Some thinking it fit that Pyrrhus should banish a certain

ill-tongued fellow in Ambracia, who had spoken very indecently of

him, "Let him rather," said he, "speak against us here to a few, than

rambling about to a great many."  And others who in their wine had

made redactions upon him, being afterward questioned for it, and

asked by him whether they had said such words, on one of the young

fellows answering, "Yes, all that, king; and should have said more if

we had had more wine;" he laughed and discharged them.  After

Antigone's death, he married several wives to enlarge his interest

and power.  He had the daughter of Autoleon, king of the Paeonians,

Bircenna, Bardyllis the Illyrian's daughter, Lanassa, daughter of

Agathocles the Syracusan, who brought with her in dower the city of

Corcyra which had been taken by Agathocles.  By Antigone he had

Ptolemy, Alexander by Lanassa, and Helenus, his youngest son, by

Bircenna; he brought them up all in arms, hot and eager youths, and

by him sharpened and whetted to war from their very infancy.  It is

said, when one of them, while yet a child, asked him to which he

would leave the kingdom, he replied, to him that had the sharpest

sword, which indeed was much like that tragical curse of Oedipus to

his sons:

Not by the lot decide.

But with the sword the heritage divide.

So unsocial and wild-beast-like is the nature of ambition and

cupidity.

After this battle Pyrrhus, returning gloriously home, enjoyed his

fame and reputation, and being called "Eagle" by the Epirots, "By

you," said he, "I am an eagle; for how should I not be such, while I

have your arms as wings to sustain me?"  A little after, having

intelligence that Demetrius was dangerously sick, he entered on a

sudden into Macedonia, intending only an incursion, and to harass the

country; but was very near seizing upon all, and taking the kingdom

without a blow.  He marched as far as Edessa unresisted, great

numbers deserting, and coming in to him.  This danger excited

Demetrius beyond his strength, and his friends and commanders in a

short time got a considerable army together, and with all their

forces briskly attacked Pyrrhus, who, coming only to pillage, would

not stand a fight but retreating lost part of his army, as he went

off, by the close pursuit of the Macedonians.  Demetrius, however,

although he had easily and quickly forced Pyrrhus out of the country,

yet did not slight him, but having resolved upon great designs, and

to recover his father's kingdom with an army of one hundred thousand

men, and a fleet of five hundred ships, would neither embroil himself

with Pyrrhus, nor leave the Macedonians so active and troublesome a

neighbor; and since he had no leisure to continue the war with him,

he was willing to treat and conclude a peace, and to turn his forces

upon the other kings.  Articles being agreed upon, the designs of

Demetrius quickly discovered themselves by the greatness of his

preparation.  And the other kings, being alarmed, sent to Pyrrhus

ambassadors and letters, expressing their wonder that he should

choose to let his own opportunity pass by, and wait till Demetrius

could use his; and whereas he was now able to chase him out of

Macedon, involved in designs and disturbed, he should expect till

Demetrius at leisure, and grown great, should bring the war home to

his own door, and make him fight for his temples and sepulchers in

Molossia; especially having so lately, by his means, lost Corcyra and

his wife together.  For Lanassa had taken offense at Pyrrhus for too

great an inclination to those wives of his that were barbarians, and

so withdrew to Corcyra, and desiring to marry some king, invited

Demetrius, knowing of all the kings he was most ready to entertain

offers of marriage; so he sailed thither, married Lanassa, and placed

a garrison in the city.  The kings having written thus to Pyrrhus,

themselves likewise contrived to find Demetrius work, while he was

delaying and making his preparations.  Ptolemy, setting out with a

great fleet, drew off many of the Greek cities.  Lysimachus out of

Thrace wasted the upper Macedon; and Pyrrhus, also, taking arms at

the same time, marched to Beroea, expecting, as it fell out, that

Demetrius, collecting his forces against Lysimachus, would leave the

lower country undefended.  That very night he seemed in his sleep to

be called by Alexander the Great, and approaching saw him sick abed,

but was received with very kind words and much respect, and promised

zealous assistance.  He making bold to reply:  "How, Sir, can you,

being sick, assist me?"  "With my name," said he, and mounting a

Nisaean horse, seemed to lead the way.  At the sight of this vision

he was much assured, and with swift marches overrunning all the

interjacent places, takes Beroea, and making his head-quarters there,

reduced the rest of the country by his commanders.  When Demetrius

received intelligence of this, and perceived likewise the Macedonians

ready to mutiny in the army, he was afraid to advance further, lest

coming near Lysimachus, a Macedonian king, and of great fame, they

should revolt to him.  So returning, he marched directly against

Pyrrhus, as a stranger, and hated by the Macedonians.  But while he

lay encamped there near him, many who came out of Beroea infinitely

praised Pyrrhus as invincible in arms, a glorious warrior, who

treated those he had taken kindly and humanely.  Several of these

Pyrrhus himself sent privately, pretending to be Macedonians, and

saying, now was the time to be delivered from the severe government

of Demetrius, by coming over to Pyrrhus, a gracious prince, and a

lover of soldiers.  By this artifice a great part of the army was in

a state of excitement, and the soldiers began to look every way

about, inquiring for Pyrrhus.  It happened he was without his helmet,

till understanding they did not know him, he put it on again, and so

was quickly recognized by his lofty crest, and the goat's horns he

wore upon it.  Then the Macedonians, running to him, desired to be

told his password, and some put oaken boughs upon their heads,

because they saw them worn by the soldiers about him.  Some persons

even took the confidence to say to Demetrius himself, that he would

be well advised to withdraw, and lay down the government.  And he,

indeed, seeing the mutinous movements of the army to be only too

consistent with what they said, privately got away, disguised in a

broad hat, and a common soldier's coat.  So Pyrrhus became master of

the army without fighting, and was declared king of the Macedonians.

But Lysimachus now arriving, and claiming the defeat of Demetrius as

the joint exploit of them both, and that therefore the kingdom should

be shared between them, Pyrrhus, not as yet quite assured of the

Macedonians, and in doubt of their faith, consented to the

proposition of Lysimachus, and divided the country and cities between

them accordingly.  This was for the present useful, and prevented a

war; but shortly after they found the partition not so much a

peaceful settlement, as an occasion of further complaint and

difference.  For men whose ambition neither seas nor mountains, nor

unpeopled deserts can limit, nor the bounds dividing Europe from Asia

confine their vast desires, it would be hard to expect to forbear

from injuring one another when they touch, and are close together.

These are ever naturally at war, envying and seeking advantages of

one another, and merely make use of those two words, peace and war,

like current coin, to serve their occasions, not as justice but as

expediency suggests, and are really better men when they openly enter

on a war, than when they give to the mere forbearance from doing

wrong, for want of opportunity, the sacred names of justice and

friendship.  Pyrrhus was an instance of this; for setting himself

against the rise of Demetrius again, and endeavoring to hinder the

recovery of his power, as it were from a kind of sickness, he

assisted the Greeks, and came to Athens, where, having ascended the

Acropolis, he offered sacrifice to the goddess, and the same day came

down again, and told the Athenians he was much gratified by the

good-will and the confidence they had shown to him; but if they were

wise, he advised them never to let any king come thither again, or

open their city gates to him.  He concluded also a peace with

Demetrius, but shortly after he was gone into Asia, at the persuasion

of Lysimachus, he tampered with the Thessalians to revolt, and

besieged his cities in Greece; finding he could better preserve the

attachment of the Macedonians in war than in peace, and being of his

own inclination not much given to rest.  At last, after Demetrius had

been overthrown in Syria, Lysimachus, who had secured his affairs,

and had nothing to do, immediately turned his whole forces upon

Pyrrhus, who was in quarters at Edessa, and falling upon and seizing

his convoy of provisions, brought first a great scarcity into the

army; then partly by letters, partly by spreading rumors abroad, he

corrupted the principal officers of the Macedonians, reproaching them

that they had made one their master who was both a stranger and

descended from those who had ever been servants to the Macedonians,

and that they had thrust the old friends and familiars of Alexander

out of the country.  The Macedonian soldiers being much prevailed

upon, Pyrrhus withdrew himself with his Epirots and auxiliary forces,

relinquishing Macedon just after the same manner he took it.  So

little reason have kings to condemn popular governments for changing

sides as suits their interests, as in this they do but imitate them

who are the great instructors of unfaithfulness and treachery;

holding him the wisest that makes the least account of being an

honest man.

Pyrrhus having thus retired into Epirus, and left Macedon, fortune

gave him a fair occasion of enjoying himself in quiet, and peaceably

governing his own subjects; but he who thought it a nauseous course

of life not to be doing mischief to others, or receiving some from

them, like Achilles, could not endure repose,

— But sat and languished far,

Desiring battle and the shout of war,

and gratified his inclination by the following pretext for new

troubles.  The Romans were at war with the Tarentines, who, not being

able to go on with the war, nor yet, through the foolhardiness and

the viciousness of their popular speakers, to come to terms and give

it up, proposed now to make Pyrrhus their general, and engage him in

it, as of all the neighboring kings the most at leisure, and the most

skillful as a commander.  The more grave and discreet citizens

opposing these counsels, were partly overborne by the noise and

violence of the multitude; while others, seeing this, absented

themselves from the assemblies; only one Meton, a very sober man, on

the day this public decree was to be ratified, when the people were

now seating themselves, came dancing into the assembly like one quite

drunk, with a withered garland and a small lamp in his hand, and a

woman playing on a flute before him.  And as in great multitudes met

at such popular assemblies, no decorum can be well observed, some

clapped him, others laughed, none forbade him, but called to the

woman to play, and to him to sing to the company, and when they

thought he was going to do so, "'Tis only right of you, O men of

Tarentum," he said, "not to hinder any from making themselves merry,

that have a mind to it, while it is yet in their power; and if you

are wise, you will take out your pleasure of your freedom while you

can, for you must change your course of life, and follow other diet

when Pyrrhus comes to town."  These words made a great impression

upon many of the Tarentines, and a confused murmur went about, that

he had spoken much to the purpose; but some who feared they should be

sacrificed if a peace were made with the Romans, reviled the whole

assembly for so tamely suffering themselves to be abused by a drunken

sot, and crowding together upon Meton, thrust him out.  So the public

order was passed, and ambassadors sent into Epirus, not only in their

own names, but in those of all the Italian Greeks, carrying presents

to Pyrrhus, and letting him know they wanted a general of reputation

and experience; and that they could furnish him with large forces of

Lucanians, Messapians, Samnites, and Tarentines, amounting to twenty

thousand horse, and three hundred and fifty thousand foot.  This did

not only quicken Pyrrhus, but raised an eager desire for the

expedition in the Epirots.

There was one Cineas, a Thessalian, considered to be a man of very

good sense, a disciple of the great orator Demosthenes, who of all

that were famous at that time for speaking well, most seemed, as in a

picture, to revive in the minds of the audience the memory of his

force and vigor of eloquence; and being always about Pyrrhus, and

sent about in his service to several cities, verified the saying of

Euripides, that

— the force of words

Can do whate'er is done by conquering swords.

And Pyrrhus was used to say, that Cineas had taken more towns with

his words, than he with his arms, and always did him the honor to

employ him in his most important occasions.  This person, seeing

Pyrrhus eagerly preparing for Italy, led him one day when he was at

leisure into the following reasonings:  "The Romans, sir, are

reported to be great warriors and conquerors of many warlike nations;

if God permit us to overcome them, how should we use our victory?"

"You ask," said Pyrrhus, "a thing evident of itself.  The Romans once

conquered, there is neither Greek nor barbarian city that will resist

us, but we shall presently be masters of all Italy, the extent and

resources and strength of which anyone should rather profess to be

ignorant of, than yourself."  Cineas, after a little pause, "And

having subdued Italy, what shall we do next?"  Pyrrhus not yet

discovering his intention, "Sicily," he replied, "next holds out her

arms to receive us, a wealthy and populous island, and easy to be

gained; for since Agathocles left it, only faction and anarchy, and

the licentious violence of the demagogues prevail."  "You speak,"

said Cineas, "what is perfectly probable, but will the possession of

Sicily put an end to the war?"  "God grant us," answered Pyrrhus,

"victory and success in that, and we will use these as forerunners of

greater things; who could forbear from Libya and Carthage then within

reach, which Agathocles, even when forced to fly from Syracuse, and

passing the sea only with a few ships, had all but surprised?

These conquests once perfected, will any assert that of the enemies

who now pretend to despise us, anyone will dare to make further

resistance?"  "None," replied Cineas, "for then it is manifest we may

with such mighty forces regain Macedon, and make all absolute

conquest of Greece; and when all these are in our power, what shall

we do then?"  Said Pyrrhus, smiling, "we will live at our ease, my

dear friend, and drink all day, and divert ourselves with pleasant

conversation."  When Cineas had led Pyrrhus with his argument to this

point:  "And what hinders us now, sir, if we have a mind to be merry,

and entertain one another, since we have at hand without trouble all

those necessary things, to which through much blood and great labor,

and infinite hazards and mischief done to ourselves and to others, we

design at last to arrive?"  Such reasonings rather troubled Pyrrhus

with the thought of the happiness he was quitting, than any way

altered his purpose, being unable to abandon the hopes of what he so

much desired.

And first, he sent away Cineas to the Tarentines with three thousand

men; presently after, many vessels for transport of horse, and

galleys, and flat-bottomed boats of all sorts arriving from Tarentum,

he shipped upon them twenty elephants, three thousand horse, twenty

thousand foot, two thousand archers, and five hundred slingers.  All

being thus in readiness, he set sail, and being half way over, was

driven by the wind, blowing, contrary to the season of the year,

violently from the north, and carried from his course, but by the

great skill and resolution of his pilots and seamen, he made the land

with infinite labor, and beyond expectation.  The rest of the fleet

could not get up, and some of the dispersed ships, losing the coast

of Italy, were driven into the Libyan and Sicilian Sea; others not

able to double the Cape of Japygium, were overtaken by the night; and

with a boisterous and heavy sea, throwing them upon a dangerous and

rocky shore, they were all very much disabled except the royal

galley.  She, while the sea bore upon her sides, resisted with her

bulk and strength, and avoided the force of it, till the wind coming

about, blew directly in their teeth from the shore, and the vessel

keeping up with her head against it, was in danger of going to

pieces; yet on the other hand, to suffer themselves to be driven off

to sea again, which was thus raging and tempestuous, with the wind

shifting about every way, seemed to them the most dreadful of all

their present evils.  Pyrrhus, rising up, threw himself overboard.

His friends and guards strove eagerly who should be most ready to

help him, but night and the sea with its noise and violent surge,

made it extremely difficult to do this; so that hardly, when with the

morning the wind began to subside, he got ashore, breathless, and

weakened in body, but with high courage and strength of mind

resisting his hard fortune.  The Messapians, upon whose shore they

were thrown by the tempest, came up eagerly to help them in the best

manner they could; and some of the straggling vessels that had

escaped the storm arrived; in which were a very few horse, and not

quite two thousand foot, and two elephants.

With these Pyrrhus marched straight to Tarentum, where Cineas, being

informed of his arrival, led out the troops to meet him.  Entering

the town, he did nothing unpleasing to the Tarentines, nor put any

force upon them, till his ships were all in harbor, and the greatest

part of the army got together; but then perceiving that the people,

unless some strong compulsion was used to them, were not capable

either of saving others or being saved themselves, and were rather

intending, while he engaged for them in the field, to remain at home

bathing and feasting themselves, he first shut up the places of

public exercise, and the walks where, in their idle way, they fought

their country's battles and conducted her campaigns in their talk; he

prohibited likewise all festivals, revels, and drinking-parties, as

unseasonable, and summoning them to arms, showed himself rigorous and

inflexible in carrying out the conscription for service in the war.

So that many, not understanding what it was to be commanded, left the

town, calling it mere slavery not to do as they pleased.  He now

received intelligence that Laevinus, the Roman consul, was upon his

march with a great army, and plundering Lucania as he went.  The

confederate forces were not come up to him, yet he thought it

impossible to suffer so near an approach of an enemy, and drew out

with his army, but first sent an herald to the Romans to know if

before the war they would decide the differences between them and the

Italian Greeks by his arbitrament and mediation.  But Laevinus

returning answer, that the Romans neither accepted him as arbitrator.

nor feared him as an enemy, Pyrrhus advanced, and encamped in the

plain between the cities of Pandosia and Heraclea, and having notice

the Romans were near, and lay on the other side of the river Siris,

he rode up to take a view of them, and seeing their order, the

appointment of the watches, their method and the general form of

their encampment, he was amazed, and addressing one of his friends

next to him:  "This order," said he, "Megacles, of the barbarians, is

not at all barbarian in character; we shall see presently what they

can do;" and, growing a little more thoughtful of the event, resolved

to expect the arriving of the confederate troops.  And to hinder the

Romans, if in the meantime they should endeavor to pass the river,

he planted men all along the bank to oppose them.  But they,

hastening to anticipate the coming up of the same forces which he had

determined to wait for, attempted the passage with their infantry,

where it was fordable, and with the horse in several places, so that

the Greeks, fearing to be surrounded, were obliged to retreat, and

Pyrrhus, perceiving this and being much surprised, bade his foot

officers draw their men up in line of battle, and continue in arms,

while he himself, with three thousand horse, advanced, hoping to

attack the Romans as they were coming over, scattered and disordered.

But when he saw a vast number of shields appearing above the water,

and the horse following them in good order, gathering his men in a

closer body, himself at the head of them, he began the charge,

conspicuous by his rich and beautiful armor, and letting it be seen

that his reputation had not outgone what he was able effectually to

perform.  While exposing his hands and body in the fight, and bravely

repelling all that engaged him, he still guided the battle with a

steady and undisturbed reason, and such presence of mind, as if he

had been out of the action and watching it from a distance, passing

still from point to point, and assisting those whom he thought most

pressed by the enemy.  Here Leonnatus the Macedonian, observing one

of the Italians very intent upon Pyrrhus, riding up towards him, and

changing places as he did, and moving as he moved:  "Do you see,

sir," said he, "that barbarian on the black horse with white feet? he

seems to me one that designs some great and dangerous thing, for he

looks constantly at you, and fixes his whole attention, full of

vehement purpose, on you alone, taking no notice of others.  Be on

your guard, sir, against him."  "Leonnatus," said Pyrrhus, "it is

impossible for any man to avoid his fate; but neither he nor any

other Italian shall have much satisfaction in engaging with me."

While they were in this discourse, the Italian, lowering his spear

and quickening his horse, rode furiously at Pyrrhus, and run his

horse through with his lance; at the same instant Leonnatus ran his

through.  Both horses falling, Pyrrhus's friends surrounded him and

brought him off safe, and killed the Italian, bravely defending

himself.  He was by birth a Frentanian, captain of a troop, and named

Oplacus.

This made Pyrrhus use greater caution, and now seeing his horse give

ground, he brought up the infantry against the enemy, and changing

his scarf and his arms with Megacles, one of his friends, and,

obscuring himself, as it were, in his, charged upon the Romans, who

received and engaged him, and a great while the success of the battle

remained undetermined; and it is said there were seven turns of

fortune both of pursuing and being pursued.  And the change of his

arms was very opportune for the safety of his person, but had like to

have overthrown his cause and lost him the victory; for several

falling upon Megacles, the first that gave him his mortal wound was

one Dexous, who, snatching away his helmet and his robe, rode at

once to Laevinus, holding them up, and saying aloud he had killed

Pyrrhus.  These spoils being carried about and shown among the ranks,

the Romans were transported with joy, and shouted aloud; while equal

discouragement and terror prevailed among the Greeks, until Pyrrhus,

understanding what had happened, rode about the army with his face

bare, stretching out his hand to his soldiers, and telling them aloud

it was he.  At last, the elephants more particularly began to

distress the Romans, whose horses, before they came near, not

enduring them, went back with their riders; and upon this, he

commanded the Thessalian cavalry to charge them in their disorder,

and routed them with great loss.  Dionysius affirms near fifteen

thousand of the Romans fell; Hieronymus, no more than seven thousand.

On Pyrrhus's side, the same Dionysius makes thirteen thousand slain,

the other under four thousand; but they were the flower of his men,

and amongst them his particular friends as well as officers whom he

most trusted and made use of.  However, be possessed himself of the

Romans' camp which they deserted, and gained over several confederate

cities, and wasted the country round about, and advanced so far that

he was within about thirty-seven miles of Rome itself.  After the

fight many of the Lucanians and Samnites came in and joined him, whom

he chid for their delay, but yet he was evidently well pleased and

raised in his thoughts, that he had defeated so great an army of the

Romans with the assistance of the Tarentines alone.

The Romans did not remove Laevinus from the consulship; though it is

told that Caius Fabricius said, that the Epirots had not beaten the

Romans, but only Pyrrhus, Laevinus; insinuating that their loss was

not through want of valor but of conduct; but filled up their

legions, and enlisted fresh men with all speed, talking high and

boldly of war, which struck Pyrrhus with amazement.  He thought it

advisable by sending first to make an experiment whether they had any

inclination to treat, thinking that to take the city and make an

absolute conquest was no work for such an army as his was at that

time, but to settle a friendship, and bring them to terms, would be

highly honorable after his victory.  Cineas was dispatched away, and

applied himself to several of the great ones, with presents for

themselves and their ladies from the king; but not a person would

receive any, and answered, as well men as women, that if an agreement

were publicly concluded, they also should be ready, for their parts,

to express their regard to the king.  And Cineas, discoursing; with

the senate in the most persuasive and obliging manner in the world,

yet was not heard with kindness or inclination, although Pyrrhus

offered also to return all the prisoners he had taken in the fight

without ransom, and promised his assistance for the entire conquest

of all Italy, asking only their friendship for himself, and security

for the Tarentines, and nothing further.  Nevertheless, most were

well-inclined to a peace, having already received one great defeat,

and fearing another from an additional force of the native Italians,

now joining with Pyrrhus.  At this point Appius Claudius, a man of

great distinction, but who, because of his great age and loss of

sight, had declined the fatigue of public business, after these

propositions had been made by the king, hearing a report that the

senate was ready to vote the conditions of peace, could not forbear,

but commanding his servants to take him up, was carried in his chair

through the forum to the senate house.  When he was set down at the

door, his sons and sons-in-law took him up in their arms, and,

walking close round about him, brought him into the senate.  Out of

reverence for so worthy a man, the whole assembly was respectfully

silent.

And a little after raising up himself:  "I bore," said he, "until

this time, the misfortune of my eyes with some impatience, but now

while I hear of these dishonorable motions and resolves of yours,

destructive to the glory of Rome, it is my affliction, that being

already blind, I am not deaf too.  Where is now that discourse of

yours that became famous in all the world, that if he, the great

Alexander, had come into Italy, and dared to attack us when we were

young men, and our fathers, who were then in their prime, he had not

now been celebrated as invincible, but either flying hence, or

falling here, had left Rome more glorious?  You demonstrate now that

all that was but foolish arrogance and vanity, by fearing Molossians

and Chaonians, ever the Macedonian's prey, and by trembling at

Pyrrhus who was himself but a humble servant to one of Alexander's

life-guard, and comes here, not so much to assist the Greeks that

inhabit among us, as to escape from his enemies at home, a wanderer

about Italy, and yet dares to promise you the conquest of it all by

that army which has not been able to preserve for him a little part

of Macedon.  Do not persuade yourselves that making him your friend

is the way to send him back, it is the way rather to bring over other

invaders from thence, contemning you as easy to be reduced, if

Pyrrhus goes off without punishment for his outrages on you, but,

on the contrary, with the reward of having enabled the Tarentines and

Samnites to laugh at the Romans."  When Appius had done, eagerness

for the war seized on every man, and Cineas was dismissed with this

answer, that when Pyrrhus had withdrawn his forces out of Italy,

then, if he pleased, they would treat with him about friendship and

alliance, but while he stayed there in arms, they were resolved to

prosecute the war against him with all their force, though he should

have defeated a thousand Laevinuses.  It is said that Cineas, while

he was managing this affair, made it his business carefully to

inspect the manners of the Romans, and to understand their methods of

government, and having conversed with their noblest citizens, he

afterwards told Pyrrhus, among other things, that the senate seemed

to him an assembly of kings, and as for the people, he feared lest it

might prove that they were fighting with a Lernaean hydra, for the

consul had already raised twice as large an army as the former, and

there were many times over the same number of Romans able to bear

arms.

Then Caius Fabricius came in embassy from the Romans to treat about

the prisoners that were taken, one whom Cineas had reported to be a

man of highest consideration among them as an honest man and a good

soldier, but extremely poor.  Pyrrhus received him with much

kindness, and privately would have persuaded him to accept of his

gold, not for any evil purpose, but calling it a mark of respect and

hospitable kindness.  Upon Fabricius's refusal, he pressed him no

further, but the next day, having a mind to discompose him, as he had

never seen an elephant before, he commanded one of the largest,

completely armed, to be placed behind the hangings, as they were

talking together.  Which being done, upon a sign given the hanging

was drawn aside, and the elephant, raising his trunk over the head of

Fabricius, made an horrid and ugly noise.  He, gently turning about

and smiling, said to Pyrrhus, "neither your money yesterday, nor this

beast today make any impression upon me."  At supper, amongst all

sorts of things that were discoursed of, but more particularly Greece

and the philosophers there, Cineas, by accident, had occasion to

speak of Epicurus, and explained the opinions his followers hold

about the gods and the commonwealth, and the object of life, placing

the chief happiness of man in pleasure, and declining public affairs

as an injury and disturbance of a happy life, removing the gods afar

off both from kindness or anger, or any concern for us at all, to a

life wholly without business and flowing in pleasures.  Before he had

done speaking, "O Hercules!" Fabricius cried out to Pyrrhus, "may

Pyrrhus and the Samnites entertain themselves with this sort of

opinions as long as they are in war with us."  Pyrrhus, admiring the

wisdom and gravity of the man, was the more transported with desire

of making friendship instead of war with the city, and entreated him,

personally, after the peace should be concluded, to accept of living

with him as the chief of his ministers and generals.  Fabricius

answered quietly, "Sir, this will not be for your advantage, for they

who now honor and admire you, when they have had experience of me,

will rather choose to be governed by me, than by you."  Such was

Fabricius.  And Pyrrhus received his answer without any resentment or

tyrannic passion; nay, among his friends he highly commended the

great mind of Fabricius, and entrusted the prisoners to him alone, on

condition that if the senate should not vote a peace, after they had

conversed with their friends and celebrated the festival of Saturn,

they should be remanded.  And, accordingly, they were sent back after

the holidays; it being decreed pain of death for any that stayed

behind.

After this, Fabricius taking the consulate, a person came with a

letter to the camp written by the king's principal physician,

offering to take off Pyrrhus by poison, and so end the war without

further hazard to the Romans, if he might have a reward

proportionable to his service.  Fabricius, hating the villainy of the

man, and disposing the other consul to the same opinion, sent

dispatches immediately to Pyrrhus to caution him against the treason.

His letter was to this effect:  "Caius Fabricius and Quintus

Aemilius, consuls of the Romans, to Pyrrhus the king, health.  You

seem to have made an ill judgment both of your friends and enemies;

you will understand by reading this letter sent to us, that you are

at war with honest men, and trust villains and knaves.  Nor do we

disclose this to you out of any favor to you, but lest your ruin

might bring a reproach upon us, as if we had ended the war by

treachery, as not able to do it by force."  When Pyrrhus had read the

letter, and made inquiry into the treason, he punished the physician,

and as an acknowledgment to the Romans sent to Rome the prisoners

without ransom, and again employed Cineas to negotiate a peace for

him.  But they, regarding it as at once too great a kindness from an

enemy, and too great a reward of not doing an ill thing to accept

their prisoners so, released in return an equal number of the

Tarentines and Samnites, but would admit of no debate of alliance or

peace until he had removed his arms and forces out of Italy, and

sailed back to Epirus with the same ships that brought him over.

Afterwards, his affairs demanding a second fight, when he had

refreshed his men, he decamped, and met the Romans about the city

Asculum, where, however, he was much incommoded by a woody country

unfit for his horse, and a swift river, so that the elephants, for

want of sure treading, could not get up with the infantry.  After

many wounded and many killed, night put an end to the engagement.

Next day, designing to make the fight on even ground, and have the

elephants among the thickest of the enemy, he caused a detachment to

possess themselves of those incommodious grounds, and, mixing

slingers and archers among the elephants, with full strength and

courage, he advanced in a close and well-ordered body.  The Romans,

not having those advantages of retreating and falling on as they

pleased, which they had before, were obliged to fight man to man upon

plain ground, and, being anxious to drive back the infantry before

the elephants could get up, they fought fiercely with their swords

among the Macedonian spears, not sparing themselves, thinking only to

wound and kill, without regard of what they suffered.  After a long

and obstinate fight, the first giving ground is reported to have been

where Pyrrhus himself engaged with extraordinary courage; but they

were most carried away by the overwhelming force of the elephants,

not being able to make use of their valor, but overthrown as it were

by the irruption of a sea or an earthquake, before which it seemed

better to give way than to die without doing anything, and not gain

the least advantage by suffering the utmost extremity, the retreat to

their camp not being far.  Hieronymus says, there fell six thousand

of the Romans, and of Pyrrhus's men, the king's own commentaries

reported three thousand five hundred and fifty lost in this action.

Dionysius, however, neither gives any account of two engagements at

Asculum, nor allows the Romans to have been certainly beaten, stating

that once only, after they had fought till sunset, both armies were

unwillingly separated by the night, Pyrrhus being wounded by a

javelin in the arm, and his baggage plundered by the Samnites, that

in all there died of Pyrrhus's men and the Romans above fifteen

thousand.  The armies separated; and, it is said, Pyrrhus replied to

one that gave him joy of his victory, that one other such would

utterly undo him.  For he had lost a great part of the forces he

brought with him, and almost all his particular friends and principal

commanders; there were no others there to make recruits, and he found

the confederates in Italy backward.  On the other hand, as from a

fountain continually flowing out of the city, the Roman camp was

quickly and plentifully filled up with fresh men, not at all abating

in courage for the losses they sustained, but even from their very

anger gaining new force and resolution to go on with the war.

Among these difficulties he fell again into new hopes and projects

distracting his purposes.  For at the same time some persons arrived

from Sicily, offering into his hands the cities of Agrigentum,

Syracuse, and Leontini, and begging his assistance to drive out the

Carthaginians, and rid the island of tyrants; and others brought him

news out of Greece that Ptolemy, called Ceraunus, was slain in a

fight, and his army cut in pieces by the Gauls, and that now, above

all others, was his time to offer himself to the Macedonians, in

great need of a king.  Complaining much of fortune for bringing him

so many occasions of great things all together at a time, and

thinking that to have both offered to him, was to lose one of them,

he was doubtful, balancing in his thoughts.  But the affairs of

Sicily seeming to hold out the greater prospects, Africa lying so

near, he turned himself to them, and presently dispatched away

Cineas, as he used to do, to make terms beforehand with the cities.

Then he placed a garrison in Tarentum, much to the Tarentines'

discontent, who required him either to perform what he came for, and

continue with them in a war against the Romans, or leave the city as

he found it.  He returned no pleasing answer, but commanded them to

be quiet and attend his time, and so sailed away.  Being arrived in

Sicily, what he had designed in his hopes was confirmed effectually,

and the cities frankly surrendered to him; and wherever his arms and

force were necessary, nothing at first made any considerable

resistance.  For advancing with thirty thousand foot, and twenty-five

hundred horse, and two hundred ships, he totally routed the

Phoenicians, and overran their whole province, and Eryx being the

strongest town they held, and having a great garrison in it, he

resolved to take it by storm.  The army being in readiness to give

the assault, he put on his arms, and coming to the head of his men,

made a vow of plays and sacrifices in honor to Hercules, if he

signalized himself in that day's action before the Greeks that dwelt

in Sicily, as became his great descent and his fortunes.  The sign

being given by sound of trumpet, he first scattered the barbarians

with his shot, and then brought his ladders to the wall, and was the

first that mounted upon it himself, and, the enemy appearing in great

numbers, he beat them back; some he threw down from the walls on each

side, others he laid dead in a heap round about him with his sword,

nor did he receive the least wound, but by his very aspect inspired

terror in the enemy; and gave a clear demonstration that Homer was in

the right, and pronounced according to the truth of fact, that

fortitude alone, of all the virtues, is wont to display itself in

divine transports and frenzies.  The city being taken, he offered to

Hercules most magnificently, and exhibited all varieties of shows and

plays.

A sort of barbarous people about Messena, called Mamertines, gave

much trouble to the Greeks, and put several of them under

contribution.  These being numerous and valiant (from whence they had

their name, equivalent in the Latin tongue to warlike), he first

intercepted the collectors of the contribution money, and cut them

off, then beat them in open fight, and destroyed many of their places

of strength.  The Carthaginians being now inclined to composition,

and offering him a round sum of money, and to furnish him with

shipping, if a peace were concluded, he told them plainly, aspiring

still to greater things, there was but one way for a friendship and

right understanding between them, if they, wholly abandoning Sicily,

would consent to make the African sea the limit between them and the

Greeks.  And being elevated with his good fortune, and the strength

of his forces, and pursuing those hopes in prospect of which he first

sailed thither, his immediate aim was at Africa; and as he had

abundance of shipping, but very ill equipped, he collected seamen,

not by fair and gentle dealing with the cities, but by force in a

haughty and insolent way, and menacing them with punishments.  And as

at first he had not acted thus, but had been unusually indulgent and

kind, ready to believe, and uneasy to none; now of a popular leader

becoming a tyrant by these severe proceedings, he got the name of an

ungrateful and a faithless man.  However, they gave way to these

things as necessary, although they took them very ill from him; and

especially when he began to show suspicion of Thoenon and

Sosistratus, men of the first position in Syracuse, who invited him

over into Sicily, and when he was come, put the cities into his

power, and were most instrumental in all he had done there since his

arrival, whom he now would neither suffer to be about his person, nor

leave at home; and when Sosistratus out of fear withdrew himself, and

then he charged Thoenon, as in a conspiracy with the other, and put

him to death, with this all his prospects changed, not by little and

little, nor in a single place only, but a mortal hatred being raised

in the cities against him, some fell off to the Carthaginians, others

called in the Mamertines.  And seeing revolts in all places, and

desires of alteration, and a potent faction against him, at the same

time he received letters from the Samnites and Tarentines, who were

beaten quite out of the field, and scarce able to secure their towns

against the war, earnestly begging his help.  This served as a color

to make his relinquishing Sicily no flight, nor a despair of good

success; but in truth not being able to manage Sicily, which was as a

ship laboring in a storm, and willing to be out of her, he suddenly

threw himself over into Italy.  It is reported that at his going off

he looked back upon the island, and said to those about him, "How

brave a field of war do we leave, my friends, for the Romans and

Carthaginians to fight in," which, as he then conjectured, fell out

indeed not long after.

When he was sailing off, the barbarians having conspired together, he

was forced to a fight with the Carthaginians in the very road, and

lost many of his ships; with the rest he fled into Italy.  There,

about one thousand Mamertines, who had crossed the sea a little

before, though afraid to engage him in open field, setting upon him

where the passages were difficult, put the whole army in confusion.

Two elephants fell, and a great part of his rear was cut off.  He,

therefore, coming up in person, repulsed the enemy, but ran into

great danger among men long trained and bold in war.  His being

wounded in the head with a sword, and retiring a little out of the

fight, much increased their confidence, and one of them advancing a

good way before the rest, large of body and in bright armor, with an

haughty voice challenged him to come forth if he were alive.

Pyrrhus, in great anger, broke away violently from his guards, and,

in his fury, besmeared with blood, terrible to look upon, made his

way through his own men, and struck the barbarian on the head with

his sword such a blow, as with the strength of his arm, and the

excellent temper of the weapon, passed downward so far that his body

being cut asunder fell in two pieces.  This stopped the course of the

barbarians, amazed and confounded at Pyrrhus, as one more than man;

so that continuing his march all the rest of the way undisturbed, he

arrived at Tarentum with twenty thousand foot and three thousand

horse, where, reinforcing himself with the choicest troops of the

Tarentines, he advanced immediately against the Romans, who then lay

encamped in the territories of the Samnites, whose affairs were

extremely shattered, and their counsels broken, having been in many

fights beaten by the Romans.  There was also a discontent amongst

them at Pyrrhus for his expedition into Sicily, so that not many came

in to join him.

He divided his army into two parts, and dispatched the first into

Lucania to oppose one of the consuls there, so that he should not

come in to assist the other; the rest he led against Manius Curius,

who had posted himself very advantageously near Beneventum, and

expected the other consul's forces, and partly because the priests

had dissuaded him by unfavorable omens, was resolved to remain

inactive.  Pyrrhus, hastening to attack these before the other could

arrive, with his best men, and the most serviceable elephants,

marched in the night toward their camp.  But being forced to go round

about, and through a very woody country, their lights failed them,

and the soldiers lost their way.  A council of war being called,

while they were in debate, the night was spent, and, at the break of

day, his approach, as he came down the hills, was discovered by the

enemy, and put the whole camp into disorder and tumult.  But the

sacrifices being auspicious, and the time absolutely obliging them to

fight, Manius drew his troops out of the trenches, and attacked the

vanguard, and, having routed them all, put the whole army into

consternation, so that many were cut off, and some of the elephants

taken.  This success drew on Manius into the level plain, and here,

in open battle, he defeated part of the enemy; but, in other

quarters, finding himself overpowered by the elephants and forced

back to his trenches, he commanded out those who were left to guard

them, a numerous body, standing thick at the ramparts, all in arms

and fresh.  These coming down from their strong position, and

charging the elephants, forced them to retire; and they in the flight

turning back upon their own men, caused great disorder and confusion,

and gave into the hands of the Romans the victory, and the future

supremacy.  Having obtained from these efforts and these contests the

feeling, as well as the fame of invincible strength, they at once

reduced Italy under their power, and not long after Sicily too.

Thus fell Pyrrhus from his Italian and Sicilian hopes, after he had

consumed six years in these wars, and though unsuccessful in his

affairs, yet preserved his courage unconquerable among all these

misfortunes, and was held, for military experience, and personal

valor and enterprise much the bravest of all the princes of his time,

only what he got by great actions he lost again by vain hopes, and by

new desires of what he had not, kept nothing of what he had.  So that

Antigonus used to compare him to a player with dice, who had

excellent throws, but knew not how to use them.  He returned into

Epirus with eight thousand foot and five hundred horse, and for want

of money to pay them, was fain to look out for a new war to maintain

the army.  Some of the Gauls joining him, he invaded Macedonia, where

Antigonus, son of Demetrius, governed, designing merely to plunder

and waste the country.  But after he had made himself master of

several towns, and two thousand men came over to him, he began to

hope for something greater, and adventured upon Antigonus himself,

and meeting him at a narrow passage, put the whole army in disorder.

The Gauls, who brought up Antigonus's rear, were very numerous and

stood firm, but after a sharp encounter, the greatest part of them

were cut off, and they who had the charge of the elephants being

surrounded every way, delivered up both themselves and the beasts.

Pyrrhus, taking this advantage, and advising more with his good

fortune than his reason, boldly set upon the main body of the

Macedonian foot, already surprised with fear, and troubled at the

former loss.  They declined any action or engagement with him; and

he, holding out his hand and calling aloud both to the superior and

under officers by name, brought over the foot from Antigonus, who,

flying away secretly, was only able to retain some of the seaport

towns.  Pyrrhus, among all these kindnesses of fortune, thinking what

he had effected against the Gauls the most advantageous for his

glory, hung up their richest and goodliest spoils in the temple of

Minerva Itonis, with this inscription: —

Pyrrhus, descendant of Molossian kings,

These shields to thee, Itonian goddess, brings,

Won from the valiant Gauls when in the fight

Antigonus and all his host took flight;

'Tis not today nor yesterday alone

That for brave deeds the Aeacidae are known.

After this victory in the field, he proceeded to secure the cities,

and having possessed himself of Aegae, beside other hardships put

upon the people there, he left in the town a garrison of Gauls, some

of those in his own army, who, being insatiably desirous of wealth,

instantly dug up the tombs of the kings that lay buried there, and

took away the riches, and insolently scattered about their bones.

Pyrrhus, in appearance, made no great matter of it, either deferring

it on account of the pressure of other business, or wholly passing it

by, out of a fear of punishing those barbarians; but this made him

very ill spoken of among the Macedonians, and his affairs being yet

unsettled and brought to no firm consistence, he began to entertain

new hopes and projects, and in raillery called Antigonus a shameless

man, for still wearing his purple and not changing it for an ordinary

dress; but upon Cleonymus, the Spartan, arriving and inviting him to

Lacedaemon, he frankly embraced the overture.  Cleonymus was of royal

descent, but seeming too arbitrary and absolute, had no great respect

nor credit at home; and Areus was king there.  This was the occasion

of an old and public grudge between him and the citizens; but, beside

that, Cleonymus, in his old age, had married a young lady of great

beauty and royal blood, Chilonis, daughter of Leotychides, who,

falling desperately in love with Acrotatus, Areus's son, a youth in

the flower of manhood, rendered this match both uneasy and

dishonorable to Cleonymus, as there was none of the Spartans who did

not very well know how much his wife slighted him; so these domestic

troubles added to his public discontent.  He brought Pyrrhus to

Sparta with an army of twenty-five thousand foot, two thousand horse,

and twenty-four elephants.  So great a preparation made it evident to

the whole world, that he came not so much to gain Sparta for

Cleonymus, as to take all Peloponnesus for himself, although he

expressly denied this to the Lacedaemonian ambassadors that came to

him at Megalopolis, affirming he came to deliver the cities from the

slavery of Antigonus, and declaring he would send his younger sons to

Sparta, if he might, to be brought up in Spartan habits, that so they

might be better bred than all other kings.  With these pretensions

amusing those who came to meet him in his march, as soon as ever he

entered Laconia, he began to plunder and waste the country, and on

the ambassadors complaining that he began the war upon them before it

was proclaimed:  "We know," said he, "very well, that neither do you

Spartans, when you design anything, talk of it beforehand."  One

Mandroclidas, then present, told him, in the broad Spartan dialect:

"If you are a god, you will do us no harm, we are wronging no man;

but if you are a man, there may be another stronger than you."

He now marched away directly for Lacedaemon, and being advised by

Cleonymus to give the assault as soon as he arrived, fearing, as it

is said, lest the soldiers, entering by night, should plunder the

city, he answered, they might do it as well next morning, because

there were but few soldiers in town, and those unprovided against his

sudden approach, as Areus was not there in person, but gone to aid

the Gortynians in Crete.  And it was this alone that saved the town,

because he despised it as not tenable, and so imagining no defense

would be made, he sat down before it that night.  Cleonymus's

friends, and the Helots, his domestic servants, had made great

preparation at his house, as expecting Pyrrhus there at supper.  In

the night the Lacedaemonians held a consultation to ship over all the

women into Crete, but they unanimously refused, and Archidamia came

into the senate with a sword in her hand, in the name of them all,

asking if the men expected the women to survive the ruins of Sparta.

It was next resolved to draw a trench in a line directly over against

the enemy's camp, and, here and there in it, to sink wagons in the

ground, as deep as the naves of the wheels, that, so being firmly

fixed, they might obstruct the passage of the elephants.  When they

had just begun the work, both maids and women came to them, the

married women with their robes tied like girdles round their

underfrocks, and the unmarried girls in their single frocks only, to

assist the elder men at the work.  As for the youth that were next

day to engage, they left them to their rest, and undertaking their

proportion, they themselves finished a third part of the trench,

which was in breadth six cubits, four in depth, and eight hundred

feet long, as Phylarchus says; Hieronymus makes it somewhat less.

The enemy beginning to move by break of day, they brought their arms

to the young men, and giving them also in charge the trench, exhorted

them to defend and keep it bravely, as it would be happy for them to

conquer in the view of their whole country, and glorious to die in

the arms of their mothers and wives, falling as became Spartans.  As

for Chilonis, she retired with a halter about her neck, resolving to

die so rather than fall into the hands of Cleonymus, if the city were

taken.

Pyrrhus himself, in person, advanced with his foot to force through

the shields of the Spartans ranged against him, and to get over the

trench, which was scarce passable, because the looseness of the fresh

earth afforded no firm footing for the soldiers.  Ptolemy, his son,

with two thousand Gauls, and some choice men of the Chaonians, went

around the trench, and endeavored to get over where the wagons were.

But they, being so deep in the ground, and placed close together, not

only made his passage, but also the defense of the Lacedaemonians

very troublesome.  Yet now the Gauls had got the wheels out of the

ground, and were drawing off the wagons toward the river, when young

Acrotatus, seeing the danger, passing through the town with three

hundred men, surrounded Ptolemy undiscerned, taking the advantage of

some slopes of the ground, until he fell upon his rear, and forced

him to wheel about.  And thrusting one another into the ditch, and

falling among the wagons, at last with much loss, not without

difficulty, they withdrew.  The elderly men and all the women saw

this brave action of Acrotatus, and when he returned back into the

town to his first post, all covered with blood, and fierce and elate

with victory, he seemed to the Spartan women to have become taller

and more beautiful than before, and they envied Chilonis so worthy a

lover.  And some of the old men followed him, crying aloud, "Go on,

Acrotatus, be happy with Chilonis, and beget brave sons for Sparta."

Where Pyrrhus himself fought was the hottest of the action, and many

of the Spartans did gallantly, but in particular one Phyllius

signalized himself, made the best resistance, and killed most

assailants; and when he found himself ready to sink with the many

wounds he had received, retiring a little out of his place behind

another, he fell down among his fellow-soldiers, that the enemy might

not carry off his body.  The fight ended with the day, and Pyrrhus,

in his sleep, dreamed that he threw thunderbolts upon Lacedaemon, and

set it all on fire, and rejoiced at the sight; and waking, in this

transport of joy, he commanded his officers to get all things ready

for a second assault, and relating his dream among his friends,

supposing it to mean that he should take the town by storm, the rest

assented to it with admiration, but Lysimachus was not pleased with

the dream, and told him he feared, lest as places struck with

lightning are held sacred, and not to be trodden upon, so the gods

might by this let him know the city should not be taken.  Pyrrhus

replied, that all these things were but idle talk, full of

uncertainty, and only fit to amuse the vulgar; their thought, with

their swords in their hands, should always be

The one good omen is king Pyrrhus' cause,

and so got up, and drew out his army to the walls by break of day.

The Lacedaemonians, in resolution and courage, made a defense even

beyond their power; the women were all by, helping them to arms, and

bringing bread and drink to those that desired it, and taking care of

the wounded.  The Macedonians attempted to fill up the trench,

bringing huge quantities of materials and throwing them upon the arms

and dead bodies, that lay there and were covered over.  While the

Lacedaemonians opposed this with all their force, Pyrrhus, in person,

appeared on their side of the trench and the wagons, pressing on

horseback toward the city, at which the men who had that post calling

out, and the women shrieking and running about, while Pyrrhus

violently pushed on, and beat down all that disputed his way, his

horse received a shot in the belly from a Cretan arrow, and, in his

convulsions as he died, threw off Pyrrhus on slippery and steep

ground.  And all about him being in confusion at this, the Spartans

came boldly up, and making good use of their missiles, forced them

off again.  After this Pyrrhus, in other quarters also, put an end to

the combat, imagining the Lacedaemonians would be inclined to yield,

as almost all of them were wounded, and very great numbers killed

outright; but the good fortune of the city, either satisfied with the

experiment upon the bravery of the citizens, or willing to prove how

much even in the last extremities such interposition may effect,

brought, when the Lacedaemonians had now but very slender hopes left,

Aminias, the Phocian, one of Antigonus's commanders, from Corinth to

their assistance, with a force of mercenaries; and they were no

sooner received into the town, but Areus, their king, arrived there

himself, too, from Crete, with two thousand men more.  The women upon

this went all home to their houses, finding it no longer necessary

for them to meddle with the business of the war; and they also were

sent back, who, though not of military age, were by necessity forced

to take arms, while the rest prepared to fight Pyrrhus.

He, upon the coming of these additional forces, was indeed possessed

with a more eager desire and ambition than before, to make himself

master of the town; but his designs not succeeding, and receiving

fresh losses every day, he gave over the siege, and fell to

plundering the country, determining to winter thereabout.  But fate

is unavoidable, and a great feud happening at Argos between Aristeas

and Aristippus, two principal citizens, after Aristippus had resolved

to make use of the friendship of Antigonus, Aristeas, to anticipate

him, invited Pyrrhus thither.  And he always revolving hopes upon

hopes, and treating all his successes as occasions of more, and his

reverses as defects to be amended by new enterprises, allowed neither

losses nor victories to limit him in his receiving or giving trouble,

and so presently went for Argos.  Areus, by frequent ambushes, and

seizing positions where the ways were most unpracticable, harassed

the Gauls and Molossians that brought up the rear.  It had been told

Pyrrhus by one of the priests that found the liver of the sacrificed

beast imperfect, that some of his near relations would be lost; in

this tumult and disorder of his rear, forgetting the prediction, he

commanded out his son Ptolemy with some of his guards to their

assistance, while he himself led on the main body rapidly out of the

pass.  And the fight being very warm where Ptolemy was, (for the most

select men of the Lacedaemonians, commanded by Evalcus, were there

engaged,) one Oryssus of Aptera in Crete, a stout man and swift of

foot, running on one side of the young prince, as he was fighting

bravely, gave him a mortal wound and slew him.  On his fall those

about him turned their backs, and the Lacedaemonian horse, pursuing

and cutting off many, got into the open plain, and found themselves

engaged with the enemy before they were aware, without their

infantry; Pyrrhus, who had received the ill news of his son, and was

in great affliction, drew out his Molossian horse against them, and

charging at the head of his men, satiated himself with the blood and

slaughter of the Lacedaemonians, as indeed he always showed himself a

terrible and invincible hero in actual fight, but now he exceeded all

he had ever done before in courage and force.  On his riding his

horse up to Evalcus, he, by declining a little to one side, had

almost cut off Pyrrhus's hand in which he held the reins, but

lighting on the reins, only cut them; at the same instant Pyrrhus,

running him through with his spear, fell from his horse, and there on

foot as he was, proceeded to slaughter all those choice men that

fought about the body of Evalcus; a severe additional loss to Sparta,

incurred after the war itself was now at an end, by the mere

animosity of the commanders.  Pyrrhus having thus offered, as it

were, a sacrifice to the ghost of his son, and fought a glorious

battle in honor of his obsequies, and having vented much of his pain

in action against the enemy, marched away to Argos.  And having

intelligence that Antigonus was already in possession of the high

grounds, he encamped about Nauplia, and the next day dispatched a

herald to Antigonus, calling him a villain, and challenging him to

descend into the plain field and fight with him for the kingdom.  He

answered, that his conduct should be measured by times as well as by

arms, and that if Pyrrhus had no leisure to live, there were ways

enough open to death.  To both the kings, also, came ambassadors from

Argos, desiring each party to retreat, and to allow the city to

remain in friendship with both, without falling into the hands of

either.  Antigonus was persuaded, and sent his son as a hostage to

the Argives; but, Pyrrhus, although he consented to retire, yet, as

he sent no hostage, was suspected.  A remarkable portent happened at

this time to Pyrrhus; the heads of the sacrificed oxen, lying apart

from the bodies, were seen to thrust out their tongues and lick up

their own gore.  And in the city of Argos, the priestess of Apollo

Lycius rushed out of the temple, crying she saw the city full of

carcasses and slaughter, and an eagle coming out to fight, and

presently vanishing again.

In the dead of the night, Pyrrhus, approaching the walls, and finding

the gate called Diamperes set open for them by Aristeas, was

undiscovered long enough to allow all his Gauls to enter and take

possession of the marketplace.  But the gate being too low to let in

the elephants, they were obliged to take down the towers which they

carried on their backs, and put them on again in the dark and in

disorder, so that time being lost, the city took the alarm, and the

people ran, some to Aspis the chief citadel, and others to other

places of defense, and sent away to Antigonus to assist them.  He,

advancing within a short distance, made an halt, but sent in some of

his principal commanders, and his son with a considerable force.

Areus came thither, too, with one thousand Cretans, and some of the

most active men among the Spartans, and all falling on at once upon

the Gauls, put them in great disorder.  Pyrrhus, entering in with

noise and shouting near the Cylarabis, when the Gauls returned the

cry, noticed that it did not express courage and assurance, but was

the voice of men distressed, and that had their hands full.  He,

therefore, pushed forward in haste the van of his horse that marched

but slowly and dangerously, by reason of the drains and sinks of

which the city is full.  In this night engagement, there was infinite

uncertainty as to what was being done, or what orders were given;

there was much mistaking and straggling in the narrow streets; all

generalship was useless in that darkness and noise and pressure; so

both sides continued without doing anything, expecting daylight.  At

the first dawn, Pyrrhus, seeing the great citadel Aspis full of

enemies, was disturbed, and remarking, among a variety of figures

dedicated in the market-place, a wolf and bull of brass, as it were

ready to attack one another, he was struck with alarm, recollecting

an oracle that formerly predicted fate had determined his death when

he should see a wolf fighting with a bull.  The Argives say, these

figures were set up in record of a thing that long ago had happened

there.  For Danaus, at his first landing in the country, near the

Pyramia in Thyreatis, as he was on his way towards Argos, espied a

wolf fighting with a bull, and conceiving the wolf to represent him,

(for this stranger fell upon a native, as he designed to do,) stayed

to see the issue of the fight, and the wolf prevailing, he offered

vows to Apollo Lycius, and thus made his attempt upon the town, and

succeeded; Gelanor, who was then king, being displaced by a faction.

And this was the cause of dedicating those figures.

Pyrrhus, quite out of heart at this sight, and seeing none of his

designs succeed, thought best to retreat, but fearing the narrow

passage at the gate, sent to his son Helenus, who was left without

the town with a great part of his forces, commanding him to break

down part of the wall, and assist the retreat if the enemy pressed

hard upon them.  But what with haste and confusion, the person that

was sent delivered nothing clearly; so that quite mistaking, the

young prince with the best of his men and the remaining elephants

marched straight through the gates into the town to assist his

father.  Pyrrhus was now making good his retreat, and while the

marketplace afforded them ground enough both to retreat and fight,

frequently repulsed the enemy that bore upon him.  But when he was

forced out of that broad place into the narrow street leading to the

gate, and fell in with those who came the other way to his assistance

some did not hear him call out to them to give back, and those who

did, however eager to obey him, were pushed forward by others behind,

who poured in at the gate.  Besides, the largest of his elephants

falling down on his side in the very gate, and lying roaring on the

ground, was in the way of those that would have got out.  Another of

the elephants already in the town, called Nicon, striving to take up

his rider, who, after many wounds received, was fallen off his back,

bore forward upon those that were retreating, and, thrusting upon

friends as well as enemies, tumbled them all confusedly upon one

another, till having found the body, and taken it up with his trunk,

he carried it on his tusks, and, returning in a fury, trod down all

before him.  Being thus pressed and crowded together, not a man could

do anything for himself, but being wedged, as it were, together into

one mass, the whole multitude rolled and swayed this way and that all

together, and did very little execution either upon the enemy in

their rear, or on any of them who were intercepted in the mass, but

very much harm to one another.  For he who had either drawn his sword

or directed his lance, could neither restore it again, nor put his

sword up; with these weapons they wounded their own men, as they

happened to come in the way, and they were dying by mere contact with

each other.

Pyrrhus, seeing this storm and confusion of things, took off the

crown he wore upon his helmet, by which he was distinguished, and

gave it to one nearest his person, and trusting to the goodness of

his horse, rode in among the thickest of the enemy, and being wounded

with a lance through his breastplate, but not dangerously, nor indeed

very much, he turned about upon the man who struck him, who was an

Argive, not of any illustrious birth, but the son of a poor old

woman; she was looking upon the fight among other women from the top

of a house, and perceiving her son engaged with Pyrrhus, and

affrighted at the danger he was in, took up a tile with both hands,

and threw it at Pyrrhus.  This falling on his head below the helmet,

and bruising the vertebrae of the lower part of the neck, stunned and

blinded him; his hands let go the reins, and sinking down from his

horse, he fell just by the tomb of Licymnius.  The common soldiers

knew not who it was; but one Zopyrus, who served under Antigonus, and

two or three others running thither, and knowing it was Pyrrhus,

dragged him to a door way hard by, just as he was recovering a little

from the blow.  But when Zopyrus drew out an Illyrian sword, ready to

cut off his head, Pyrrhus gave him so fierce a look, that confounded

with terror, and sometimes his hands trembling, and then again

endeavoring to do it, full of fear and confusion, he could not strike

him right, but cutting over his mouth and chin, it was a long time

before he got off the head.  By this time what had happened was known

to a great many, and Alcyoneus hastening to the place, desired to

look upon the head, and see whether he knew it, and taking it in his

hand rode away to his father, and threw it at his feet, while he was

sitting with some of his particular favorites.  Antigonus, looking

upon it, and knowing it, thrust his son from him, and struck him with

his staff, calling him wicked and barbarous, and covering his eyes

with his robe, shed tears, thinking of his own father and

grandfather, instances in his own family of the changefulness of

fortune, and caused the head and body of Pyrrhus to be burned with

all due solemnity.  After this, Alcyoneus, discovering Helenus under

a mean disguise in a threadbare coat, used him very respectfully, and

brought him to his father.  When Antigonus saw him, "This, my son,"

said he, "is better; and yet even now you have not done wholly well

in allowing these clothes to remain, to the disgrace of those who it

seems now are the victors."  And treating Helenus with great

kindness, and as became a prince, he restored him to his kingdom of

Epirus, and gave the same obliging reception to all Pyrrhus's

principal commanders, his camp and whole army having fallen into his

hands.

CAIUS MARIUS

We are altogether ignorant of any third name of Caius Marius; as also

of Quintus Sertorius, that possessed himself of Spain; or of Lucius

Mummius that destroyed Corinth, though this last was surnamed

Achaicus from his conquests, as Scipio was called Africanus, and

Metellus, Macedonicus.  Hence Posidonius draws his chief argument to

confute those that hold the third to be the Roman proper name, as

Camillus, Marcellus, Cato; as in this case, those that had but two

names would have no proper name at all.  He did not, however, observe

that by his own reasoning he must rob the women absolutely of their

names; for none of them have the first, which Posidonius imagines the

proper name with the Romans.  Of the other two, one was common to the

whole family, Pompeii, Manlii, Cornelii, (as with us Greeks, the

Heraclidae, and Pelopidae,) the other titular, and personal, taken

either from their natures, or actions, or bodily characteristics, as

Macrinus, Torquatus, Sylla; such as are Mnemon, Grypus, or Callinicus

among the Greeks.  On the subject of names, however, the irregularity

of custom, would we insist upon it, might furnish us with discourse

enough.

There is a likeness of Marius in stone at Ravenna, in Gaul, which I

myself saw, quite corresponding with that roughness and harshness of

character that is ascribed to him.  Being naturally valiant and

warlike, and more acquainted also with the discipline of the camp

than of the city, he could not moderate his passion when in

authority.  He is said never to have either studied Greek, or to have

made use of that language in any matter of consequence; thinking it

ridiculous to bestow time in that learning, the teachers of which

were little better than slaves.  So after his second triumph, when at

the dedication of a temple he presented some shows after the Greek

fashion, coming into the theater, he only sat down and immediately

departed.  And, accordingly, as Plato often used to say to Xenocrates

the philosopher, who was thought to show more than ordinary harshness

of disposition, "I pray you, good Xenocrates, sacrifice to the

Graces"; so if any could have persuaded Marius to pay his devotions

to the Greek Muses and Graces, he had never brought his incomparable

actions, both in war and peace, to so unworthy a conclusion, or

wrecked himself, so to say, upon an old age of cruelty and

vindictiveness, through passion, ill-timed ambition, and insatiable

cupidity.  But this will further appear by and by from the facts.

He was born of parents altogether obscure and indigent, who supported

themselves by their daily labor; his father of the same name with

himself, his mother called Fulcinia.  He had spent a considerable

part of his life before he saw and tasted the pleasures of the city;

having passed previously in Cirrhaeaton, a village of the territory

of Arpinum, a life, compared with city delicacies, rude and

unrefined, yet temperate, and conformable to the ancient Roman

severity.  He first served as a soldier in the war against the

Celtiberians, when Scipio Africanus besieged Numantia; where he

signalized himself to his general by courage far above his comrades,

and, particularly, by his cheerfully complying with Scipio's

reformation of his army, before almost ruined by pleasures and

luxury.  It is stated, too, that he encountered and vanquished an

enemy in single combat, in his general's sight.  In consequence of

all this he had several honors conferred upon him; and once when at

an entertainment a question arose about commanders, and one of the

company (whether really desirous to know, or only in complaisance)

asked Scipio where the Romans, after him, should obtain such another

general, Scipio, gently clapping Marius on the shoulder as he sat

next him, replied, "Here, perhaps."  So promising was his early youth

of his future greatness, and so discerning was Scipio to detect the

distant future in the present first beginnings.  It was this speech

of Scipio, we are told, which, like a divine admonition, chiefly

emboldened Marius to aspire to a political career.  He sought, and by

the assistance of Caecilius Metellus, of whose family he as well as

his father were dependents, obtained the office of tribune of the

people.  In which place, when he brought forward a bill for the

regulation of voting, which seemed likely to lessen the authority of

the great men in the courts of justice, the consul Cotta opposed him,

and persuaded the senate to declare against the law, and call Marius

to account for it.  He, however, when this decree was prepared,

coming into the senate, did not behave like a young man newly and

undeservedly advanced to authority, but, assuming all the courage

that his future actions would have warranted, threatened Cotta unless

he recalled the decree, to throw him into prison.  And on his turning

to Metellus, and asking his vote, and Metellus rising up to concur

with the consul, Marius, calling for the officer outside, commanded

him to take Metellus into custody.  He appealed to the other

tribunes, but not one of them assisted him; so that the senate,

immediately complying, withdrew the decree.  Marius came forth with

glory to the people and confirmed his law, and was henceforth

esteemed a man of undaunted courage and assurance, as well as a

vigorous opposer of the senate in favor of the commons.  But he

immediately lost their opinion of him by a contrary action; for when

a law for the distribution of corn was proposed, he vigorously and

successfully resisted it, making himself equally honored by both

parties, in gratifying neither, contrary to the public interest.

After his tribuneship, he was candidate for the office of chief

aedile; there being two orders of them, one the curules, from the

stool with crooked feet on which they sat when they performed their

duty; the other and inferior, called aediles of the people.  As soon

as they have chosen the former, they give their voices again for the

latter.  Marius, finding he was likely to be put by for the greater,

immediately changed and stood for the less; but because he seemed too

forward and hot, he was disappointed of that also.  And yet though he

was in one day twice frustrated of his desired preferment, (which

never happened to any before,) yet he was not at all discouraged, but

a little while after sought for the praetorship, and was nearly

suffering a repulse, and then, too, though he was returned last of

all, was nevertheless accused of bribery.

Cassius Sabaco's servant, who was observed within the rails among

those that voted, chiefly occasioned the suspicion, as Sabaco was an

intimate friend of Marius; but on being called to appear before the

judges, he alleged, that being thirsty by reason of the heat, he

called for cold water, and that his servant brought him a cup, and

as soon as he had drunk, departed; he was, however, excluded from the

senate by the succeeding censors, and not undeservedly either, as was

thought, whether it might be for his false evidence, or his want of

temperance.  Caius Herennius was also cited to appear as evidence,

but pleaded that it was not customary for a patron, (the Roman word

for protector,) to witness against his clients, and that the law

excused them from that harsh duty; and both Marius and his parents

had always been clients to the family of the Herennii.  And when the

judges would have accepted of this plea, Marius himself opposed it,

and told Herennius, that when he was first created magistrate he

ceased to be his client; which was not altogether true.  For it is

not every office that frees clients and their posterity from the

observance due to their patrons, but only those to which the law has

assigned a curule chair.  Notwithstanding, though at the beginning of

the suit it went somewhat hard with Marius, and he found the judges

no way favorable to him; yet, at last, their voices being equal,

contrary to all expectation, he was acquitted.

In his praetorship he did not get much honor, yet after it he

obtained the further Spain; which province he is said to have

cleared of robbers, with which it was much infested, the old

barbarous habits still prevailing, and the Spaniards, in those days,

still regarding robbery as a piece of valor.  In the city he had

neither riches nor eloquence to trust to, with which the leading men

of the time obtained power with the people, but his vehement

disposition, his indefatigable labors, and his plain way of living,

of themselves gained him esteem and influence; so that he made an

honorable match with Julia, of the distinguished family of the

Caesars, to whom that Caesar was nephew who was afterwards so great

among the Romans, and, in some degree, from his relationship, made

Marius his example, as in his life we have observed.

Marius is praised for both temperance and endurance, of which latter

he gave a decided instance in an operation of surgery.  For having,

as it seems, both his legs full of great tumors, and disliking the

deformity, he determined to put himself into the hands of an

operator; when, without being tied, he stretched out one of his legs,

and silently, without changing countenance, endured most excessive

torments in the cutting, never either flinching or complaining; but

when the surgeon went to the other, he declined to have it done,

saying, "I see the cure is not worth the pain."

The consul Caecilius Metellus.  being declared general in the war

against Jugurtha in Africa, took with him Marius for lieutenant;

where, eager himself to do great deeds and services that would get

him distinction, he did not, like others, consult Metellus's glory and

the serving his interest, and attributing his honor of lieutenancy

not to Metellus, but to fortune, which had presented him with a

proper opportunity and theater of great actions, he exerted his

utmost courage.  That war, too, affording several difficulties, he

neither declined the greatest, nor disdained undertaking the least of

them; but surpassing his equals in counsel and conduct, and matching

the very common soldiers in labor and abstemiousness, he gained great

popularity with them; as indeed any voluntary partaking with people

in their labor is felt as an easing of that labor, as it seems to

take away the constraint and necessity of it.  It is the most

obliging sight in the world to the Roman soldier to see a commander

eat the same bread as himself, or lie upon an ordinary bed, or assist

the work in the drawing a trench and raising a bulwark.  For they do

not so much admire those that confer honors and riches upon them, as

those that partake of the same labor and danger with themselves; but

love them better that will vouchsafe to join in their work, than

those that encourage their idleness.

Marius thus employed, and thus winning the affections of the

soldiers, before long filled both Africa and Rome with his fame, and

some, too, wrote home from the army that the war with Africa would

never be brought to a conclusion, unless they chose Caius Marius

consul.  All which was evidently unpleasing to Metellus; but what

more especially grieved him was the calamity of Turpillius.  This

Turpillius had, from his ancestors, been a friend of Metellus, and

kept up constant hospitality with him; and was now serving in the

war, in command of the smiths and carpenters of the army.  Having the

charge of a garrison in Vaga, a considerable city, and trusting too

much to the inhabitants, because he treated them civilly and kindly,

he unawares fell into the enemy's hands.  They received Jugurtha into

the city; yet, nevertheless, at their request, Turpillius was

dismissed safe and without receiving any injury; whereupon he was

accused of betraying it to the enemy.  Marius, being one of the

council of war, was not only violent against him himself, but also

incensed most of the others, so that Metellus was forced, much

against his will, to put him to death.  Not long after the accusation

proved false, and when others were comforting Metellus, who took

heavily the loss of his friend, Marius, rather insulting and

arrogating it to himself, boasted in all companies that he had

involved Metellus in the guilt of putting his friend to death.

Henceforward they were at open variance; and it is reported that

Metellus once, when Marius was present, said, insultingly, "You, sir,

design to leave us to go home and stand for the consulship, and will

not be content to wait and be consul with this boy of mine?"

Metellus's son being a mere boy at the time.  Yet for all this Marius

being very importunate to be gone, after several delays, he was

dismissed about twelve days before the election of consuls; and

performed that long journey from the camp to the seaport of Utica, in

two days and a night, and there doing sacrifice before he went on

shipboard, it is said the augur told him, that heaven promised him

some incredible good fortune, and such as was beyond all expectation.

Marius, not a little elated with this good omen, began his voyage,

and in four days, with a favorable wind, passed the sea; he was

welcomed with great joy by the people, and being brought into the

assembly by one of the tribunes, sued for the consulship, inveighing

in all ways against Metellus, and promising either to slay Jugurtha

or take him alive.

He was elected triumphantly, and at once proceeded to levy soldiers,

contrary both to law and custom, enlisting slaves and poor people;

whereas former commanders never accepted of such, but bestowed arms,

like other favors, as a matter of distinction, on persons who had the

proper qualification, a man's property being thus a sort of security

for his good behavior.  These were not the only occasions of ill-will

against Marius; some haughty speeches, uttered with great arrogance

and contempt, gave great offense to the nobility; as, for example,

his saying that he had carried off the consulship as a spoil from the

effeminacy of the wealthy and high-born citizens, and telling the

people that he gloried in wounds he had himself received for them, as

much as others did in the monuments of dead men and images of their

ancestors.  Often speaking of the commanders that had been

unfortunate in Africa, naming Bestia, for example, and Albinus, men

of very good families, but unfit for war, and who had miscarried

through want of experience, he asked the people about him, if they

did not think that the ancestors of these nobles had much rather have

left a descendant like him, since they themselves grew famous not by

nobility, but by their valor and great actions?  This he did not say

merely out of vanity and arrogance, or that he were willing, without

any advantage, to offend the nobility; but the people always

delighting in affronts and scurrilous contumelies against the senate,

making boldness of speech their measure of greatness of spirit,

continually encouraged him in it, and strengthened his inclination

not to spare persons of repute, so he might gratify the multitude.

As soon as he arrived again in Africa, Metellus, no longer able to

control his feelings of jealousy, and his indignation that now when

he had really finished the war, and nothing was left but to secure

the person of Jugurtha, Marius, grown great merely through his

ingratitude to him, should come to bereave him both of his victory

and triumph, could not bear to have any interview with him; but

retired himself, whilst Rutilius, his lieutenant, surrendered up the

army to Marius, whose conduct, however, in the end of the war, met

with some sort of retribution, as Sylla deprived him of the glory of

the action, as he had done Metellus.  I shall state the circumstances

briefly here, as they are given at large in the life of Sylla.

Bocchus was king of the more distant barbarians, and was

father-in-law to Jugurtha, yet sent him little or no assistance in

his war, professing fears of his unfaithfulness, and really jealous

of his growing power; but after Jugurtha fled, and in his distress

came to him as his last hope, he received him as a suppliant, rather

because ashamed to do otherwise, than out of real kindness; and when

he had him in his power, he openly entreated Marius on his behalf,

and interceded for him with bold words, giving out that he would by

no means deliver him.  Yet privately designing to betray him, he sent

for Lucius Sylla, quaestor to Marius, and who had on a previous

occasion befriended Bocchus in the war.  When Sylla, relying on his

word, came to him, the African began to doubt and repent of his

purpose, and for several days was unresolved with himself, whether he

should deliver Jugurtha or retain Sylla; at length he fixed upon his

former treachery, and put Jugurtha alive into Sylla's possession.

Thus was the first occasion given of that fierce and implacable

hostility which so nearly ruined the whole Roman empire.  For many

that envied Marius, attributed the success wholly to Sylla; and Sylla

himself got a seal made on which was engraved Bocchus betraying

Jugurtha to him, and constantly used it, irritating the hot and

jealous temper of Marius, who was naturally greedy of distinction,

and quick to resent any claim to share in his glory, and whose

enemies took care to promote the quarrel, ascribing the beginning and

chief business of the war to Metellus, and its conclusion to Sylla;

that so the people might give over admiring and esteeming Marius as

the worthiest person.

But these envyings and calumnies were soon dispersed and cleared away

from Marius, by the danger that threatened Italy from the west; when

the city, in great need of a good commander, sought about whom she

might set at the helm, to meet the tempest of so great a war, no one

would have anything to say to any members of noble or potent

families who offered themselves for the consulship, and Marius,

though then absent, was elected.

Jugurtha's apprehension was only just known, when the news of the

invasion of the Teutones and Cimbri began.  The accounts at first

exceeded all credit, as to the number and strength of the approaching

army; but in the end, report proved much inferior to the truth, as

they were three hundred thousand effective fighting men, besides a

far greater number of women and children.  They professed to be

seeking new countries to sustain these great multitudes, and cities

where they might settle and inhabit, in the same way as they had

heard the Celti before them had driven out the Tyrrhenians, and

possessed themselves of the best part of Italy.  Having had no

commerce with the southern nations, and traveling over a wide extent

of country, no man knew what people they were, or whence they came,

that thus like a cloud burst over Gaul and Italy; yet by their gray

eyes and the largeness of their stature, they were conjectured to be

some of the German races dwelling by the northern sea; besides that,

the Germans call plunderers Cimbri.

There are some that say, that the country of the Celti, in its vast

size and extent, reaches from the furthest sea and the arctic regions

to the lake Maeotis eastward, and to that part of Scythia which is

near Pontus, and that there the nations mingle together; that they

did not swarm out of their country all at once, or on a sudden, but

advancing by force of arms, in the summer season, every year, in the

course of time they crossed the whole continent.  And thus, though

each party had several appellations, yet the whole army was called by

the common name of Celto-Scythians.  Others say that the Cimmerii,

anciently known to the Greeks, were only a small part of the nation,

who were driven out upon some quarrel among the Scythians, and passed

all along from the lake Maeotis to Asia, under the conduct of one

Lygdamis; and that the greater and more warlike part of them still

inhabit the remotest regions lying upon the outer ocean.  These, they

say, live in a dark and woody country hardly penetrable by the

sunbeams, the trees are so close and thick, extending into the

interior as far as the Hercynian forest; and their position on the

earth is under that part of heaven, where the pole is so elevated,

that by the declination of the parallels, the zenith of the

inhabitants seems to be but little distant from it; and that their

days and nights being almost of an equal length, they divide their

year into one of each.  This was Homer's occasion for the story of

Ulysses calling up the dead, and from this region the people,

anciently called Cimmerii, and afterwards, by an easy change, Cimbri,

came into Italy.  All this, however, is rather conjecture than an

authentic history.

Their numbers, most writers agree, were not less, but rather greater

than was reported.  They were of invincible strength and fierceness

in their wars, and hurried into battle with the violence of a

devouring flame; none could withstand them; all they assaulted became

their prey.  Several of the greatest Roman commanders with their

whole armies, that advanced for the defense of Transalpine Gaul, were

ingloriously overthrown, and, indeed, by their faint resistance,

chiefly gave them the impulse of marching towards Rome.  Having

vanquished all they had met, and found abundance of plunder, they

resolved to settle themselves nowhere till they should have razed the

city, and wasted all Italy.  The Romans, being from all parts alarmed

with this news, sent for Marius to undertake the war, and nominated

him the second time consul, though the law did not permit any one

that was absent, or that had not waited a certain time after his

first consulship, to be again created.  But the people rejected all

opposers; for they considered this was not the first time that the

law gave place to the common interest; nor the present occasion less

urgent than that when, contrary to law, they made Scipio consul, not

in fear for the destruction of their own city, but desiring the ruin

of that of the Carthaginians.

Thus it was decided; and Marius, bringing over his legions out of

Africa on the very first day of January, which the Romans count the

beginning of the year, received the consulship, and then, also,

entered in triumph, showing Jugurtha a prisoner to the people, a

sight they had despaired of ever beholding, nor could any, so long as

he lived, hope to reduce the enemy in Africa; so fertile in

expedients was he to adapt himself to every turn of fortune, and so

bold as well as subtle.  When, however, he was led in triumph, it is

said that he fell distracted, and when he was afterwards thrown into

prison, where some tore off his clothes by force, and others, whilst

they struggled for his golden ear-ring, with it pulled off the tip of

his ear, and when he was, after this, cast naked into the dungeon, in

his amazement and confusion, with a ghastly laugh, he cried out, "O

Hercules! how cold your bath is!"  Here for six days struggling with

hunger, and to the very last minute desirous of life, he was

overtaken by the just reward of his villainies.  In this triumph was

brought, as is stated, of gold three thousand and seven pounds

weight, of silver bullion five thousand seven hundred and

seventy-five, of money in gold and silver coin two hundred and

eighty-seven thousand drachmas.  After the solemnity, Marius called

together the senate in the capitol, and entered, whether through

inadvertency or unbecoming exultation with his good fortune, in his

triumphal habit; but presently observing the senate offended at it,

went out, and returned in his ordinary purple-bordered robe.

On the expedition he carefully disciplined and trained his army

whilst on their way, giving them practice in long marches, and

running of every sort, and compelling every man to carry his own

baggage and prepare his own victuals; insomuch that thenceforward

laborious soldiers, who did their work silently without grumbling,

had the name of "Marius's mules."  Some, however, think the proverb

had a different occasion; that when Scipio besieged Numantia, and was

careful to inspect not only their horses and arms, but their mules

and carriages too, and see how well equipped and in what readiness

each one's was, Marius brought forth his horse which he had fed

extremely well, and a mule in better case, stronger and gentler than

those of others; that the general was very well pleased, and often

afterwards mentioned Marius's beasts; and that hence the soldiers,

when speaking jestingly in the praise of a drudging, laborious

fellow, called him Marius's mule.

But to proceed; very great good fortune seemed to attend Marius, for

by the enemy in a manner changing their course, and falling first

upon Spain, he had time to exercise his soldiers, and confirm their

courage, and, which was most important, to show them what he himself

was.  For that fierce manner of his in command, and inexorableness in

punishing, when his men became used not to do amiss or disobey, was

felt to be wholesome and advantageous, as well as just, and his

violent spirit, stern voice, and harsh aspect, which in a little

while grew familiar to them, they esteemed terrible not to

themselves, but only to their enemies.  But his uprightness in

judging, more especially pleased the soldiers, one remarkable

instance of which is as follows.  One Caius Lusius, his own nephew,

had a command under him in the army, a man not in other respects of

bad character, but shamefully licentious with young men.  He had one

young man under his command called Trebonius, with whom

notwithstanding many solicitations he could never prevail.  At length

one night, he sent a messenger for him, and Trebonius came, as it was

not lawful for him to refuse when he was sent for, and being brought

into his tent, when Lusius began to use violence with him, he drew

his sword and ran him through.  This was done whilst Marius was

absent.  When he returned, he appointed Trebonius a time for his

trial, where, whilst many accused him, and not any one appeared in

his defense, he himself boldly related the whole matter, and brought

witness of his previous conduct to Lusius, who had frequently offered

him considerable presents.  Marius, admiring his conduct and much

pleased, commanded the garland, the usual Roman reward of valor, to

be brought, and himself crowned Trebonius with it, as having

performed an excellent action, at a time that very much wanted such

good examples.

This being told at Rome, proved no small help to Marius towards his

third consulship; to which also conduced the expectation of the

barbarians at the summer season, the people being unwilling to trust

their fortunes with any other general but him.  However, their

arrival was not so early as was imagined, and the time of Marius's

consulship was again expired.  The election coming on, and his

colleague being dead, he left the command of the army to Manius

Aquilius, and hastened to Rome, where, several eminent persons being

candidates for the consulship, Lucius Saturninus, who more than any

of the other tribunes swayed the populace, and of whom Marius himself

was very observant, exerted his eloquence with the people, advising

them to choose Marius consul.  He playing the modest part, and

professing to decline the office, Saturninus called him traitor to

his country, if, in such apparent danger, he would avoid command.

And though it was not difficult to discover that he was merely

helping Marius in putting this presence upon the people, yet,

considering that the present juncture much required his skill, and

his good fortune too, they voted him the fourth time consul, and made

Catulus Lutatius his colleague, a man very much esteemed by the

nobility, and not unagreeable to the commons.

Marius, having notice of the enemy's approach, with all expedition

passed the Alps, and pitching his camp by the river Rhone, took care

first for plentiful supplies of victuals; lest at any time he should

be forced to fight at a disadvantage for want of necessaries.  The

carriage of provision for the army from the sea, which was formerly

long and expensive, he made speedy and easy.  For the mouth of the

Rhone, by the influx of the sea, being barred and almost filled up

with sand and mud mixed with clay, the passage there became narrow,

difficult, and dangerous for the ships that brought their provisions.

Hither, therefore, bringing his army, then at leisure, he drew a

great trench; and by turning the course of great part of the river,

brought it to a convenient point on the shore where the water was

deep enough to receive ships of considerable burden, and where there

was a calm and easy opening to the sea.  And this still retains the

name it took from him.

The enemy dividing themselves into two parts, the Cimbri arranged to

go against Catulus higher up through the country of the Norici, and

to force that passage; the Teutones and Ambrones to march against

Marius by the sea-side through Liguria.  The Cimbri were a

considerable time in doing their part.  But the Teutones and Ambrones

with all expedition passing over the interjacent country, soon came

in sight, in numbers beyond belief, of a terrible aspect, and

uttering strange cries and shouts.  Taking up a great part of the

plain with their camp, they challenged Marius to battle; he seemed to

take no notice of them, but kept his soldiers within their

fortifications, and sharply reprehended those that were too forward

and eager to show their courage, and who, out of passion, would needs

be fighting, calling them traitors to their country, and telling them

they were not now to think of the glory of triumphs and trophies, but

rather how they might repel such an impetuous tempest of war, and

save Italy.

Thus he discoursed privately with his officers and equals, but placed

the soldiers by turns upon the bulwarks to survey the enemy, and so

made them familiar with their shape and voice, which were indeed

altogether extravagant and barbarous, and he caused them to observe

their arms, and way of using them, so that in a little time what at

first appeared terrible to their apprehensions, by often viewing,

became familiar.  For he very rationally supposed, that the

strangeness of things often makes them seem formidable when they are

not so; and that by our better acquaintance, even things which are

really terrible, lose much of their frightfulness.  This daily

converse not only diminished some of the soldiers' fear, but their

indignation warmed and inflamed their courage, when they heard the

threats and insupportable insolence of their enemies; who not only

plundered and depopulated all the country round, but would even

contemptuously and confidently attack the ramparts.

Complaints of the soldiers now began to come to Marius's ears.  "What

effeminacy does Marius see in us, that he should thus like women lock

us up from encountering our enemies?  Come on, let us show ourselves

men, and ask him if he expects others to fight for Italy; and means

merely to employ us in servile offices, when he would dig trenches,

cleanse places of mud and dirt, and turn the course of rivers?  It

was to do such works as these, it seems, that he gave us all our long

training; he will return home, and boast of these great performances

of his consulships to the people.  Does the defeat of Carbo and

Caepio, who were vanquished by the enemy, affright him?  Surely they

were much inferior to Marius both in glory and valor, and commanded a

much weaker army; at the worst, it is better to be in action, though

we suffer for it like them, than to sit idle spectators of the

destruction of our allies and companions."  Marius, not a little

pleased to hear this, gently appeased them, pretending that he did

not distrust their valor, but that he took his measures as to the

time and place of victory from some certain oracles.

And, in fact, he used solemnly to carry about in a litter, a Syrian

woman, called Martha, a supposed prophetess, and to do sacrifice by

her directions.  She had formerly been driven away by the senate, to

whom she addressed herself, offering to inform them about these

affairs, and to foretell future events; and after this betook herself

to the women, and gave them proofs of her skill, especially Marius's

wife, at whose feet she sat when she was viewing a contest of

gladiators, and correctly foretold which of them should overcome.

She was for this and the like predictings sent by her to Marius and

the army, where she was very much looked up to, and, for the most

part, carried about in a litter.  When she went to sacrifice, she

wore a purple robe lined and buckled up, and had in her hand a little

spear trimmed with ribbons and garlands.  This theatrical show made

many question, whether Marius really gave any credit to her himself,

or only played the counterfeit, when he showed her publicly, to

impose upon the soldiers.

What, however, Alexander the Myndian relates about the vultures, does

really deserve admiration; that always before Marius's victories

there appeared two of them, and accompanied the army, which were

known by their brazen collars, (the soldiers having caught them and

put these about their necks, and so let them go, from which time they

in a manner knew and saluted the soldiers,) and whenever these

appeared in their marches, they used to rejoice at it, and thought

themselves sure of some success.  Of the many other prodigies that

then were taken notice of, the greater part were but of the ordinary

stamp; it was, however, reported that at Ameria and Tuder, two cities

in Italy, there were seen at nights in the sky, flaming darts and

shields, now waved about, and then again clashing against one

another, all in accordance with the postures and motions soldiers use

in fighting; that at length one party retreating, and the other

pursuing, they all disappeared westward.  Much about the same time

came Bataces, one of Cybele's priests, from Pesinus, and reported

how the goddess had declared to him out of her oracle, that the

Romans should obtain the victory.  The senate giving credit to him,

and voting the goddess a temple to be built in hopes of the victory,

Aulus Pompeius, a tribune, prevented Bataces, when he would have gone

and told the people this same story, calling him impostor, and

ignominiously pulling him off the hustings; which action in the end

was the main thing that gained credit for the man's story, for Aulus

had scarce dissolved the assembly, and returned home, when a violent

fever seized him, and it was matter of universal remark, and in

everybody's mouth, that he died within a week after.

Now the Teutones, whilst Marius lay quiet, ventured to attack his

camp; from whence, however, being encountered with showers of darts,

and losing several of their men, they determined to march forward,

hoping to reach the other side of the Alps without opposition, and,

packing up their baggage, passed securely by the Roman camp, where

the greatness of their number was especially made evident by the long

time they took in their march, for they were said to be six days

continually going on in passing Marius's fortifications; they marched

pretty near, and revilingly asked the Romans if they would send any

commands by them to their wives, for they would shortly be with them.

As soon as they were passed and had gone on a little distance ahead,

Marius began to move, and follow them at his leisure, always

encamping at some small distance from them; choosing also strong

positions, and carefully fortifying them, that he might quarter with

safety.  Thus they marched till they came to the place called

Sextilius's Waters, from whence it was but a short way before being

amidst the Alps, and here Marius put himself in readiness for the

encounter.

He chose a place for his camp of considerable strength, but where

there was a scarcity of water; designing, it is said, by this means,

also, to put an edge on his soldiers' courage; and when several were

not a little distressed, and complained of thirst, pointing to a

river that ran near the enemy's camp:  "There," said he, "you may

have drink, if you will buy it with your blood."  "Why, then,"

replied they, "do you not lead us to them, before our blood is dried

up in us?"  He answered, in a softer tone, "let us first fortify our

camp," and the soldiers, though not without repining, proceeded to

obey.  Now a great company of their boys and camp-followers, having

neither drink for themselves nor for their horses, went down to that

river; some taking axes and hatchets, and some, too, swords and darts

with their pitchers, resolving to have water though they fought for

it.  These were first encountered by a small party of the enemies;

for most of them had just finished bathing, and were eating and

drinking, and several were still bathing, the country thereabouts

abounding in hot springs; so that the Romans partly fell upon them

whilst they were enjoying themselves, and occupied with the novel

sights and pleasantness of the place.  Upon hearing the shouts,

greater numbers still joining in the fight, it was not a little

difficult for Marius to contain his soldiers, who were afraid of

losing the camp-servants; and the more warlike part of the enemies,

who had overthrown Manlius and Caepio, (they were called Ambrones,

and were in number, one with another, above thirty thousand,) taking

the alarm, leaped up and hurried to arms.

These, though they had just been gorging themselves with food, and

were excited and disordered with drink, nevertheless did not advance

with an unruly step, or in mere senseless fury, nor were their shouts

mere inarticulate cries; but clashing their arms in concert, and

keeping time as they leapt and bounded onward, they continually

repeated their own name, "Ambrones!" either to encourage one another,

or to strike the greater terror into their enemies.  Of all the

Italians in Marius's army, the Ligurians were the first that charged;

and when they caught the word of the enemy's confused shout, they,

too, returned the same, as it was an ancient name also in their

country, the Ligurians always using it when speaking of their

descent.  This acclamation, bandied from one army to the other before

they joined, served to rouse and heighten their fury, while the men

on either side strove, with all possible vehemence, the one to

overshout the other.

The river disordered the Ambrones; before they could draw up all

their army on the other side of it, the Ligurians presently fell upon

the van, and began to charge them hand to hand.  The Romans, too,

coming to their assistance, and from the higher ground pouring upon

the enemy, forcibly repelled them, and the most of them (one

thrusting another into the river) were there slain, and filled it

with their blood and dead bodies.  Those that got safe over, not

daring to make head, were slain by the Romans, as they fled to their

camp and wagons; where the women meeting them with swords and

hatchets, and making a hideous outcry, set upon those that fled as

well as those that pursued, the one as traitors, the other as

enemies; and, mixing themselves with the combatants, with their bare

arms pulling away the Romans' shields, and laying hold on their

swords, endured the wounds and slashing of their bodies to the very

last, with undaunted resolution.  Thus the battle seems to have

happened at that river rather by accident than by the design of the

general.

After the Romans were retired from the great slaughter of the

Ambrones, night came on; but the army was not indulged, as was the

usual custom, with songs of victory, drinking in their tents, and

mutual entertainments, and (what is most welcome to soldiers after

successful fighting) quiet sleep, but they passed that night, above

all others, in fears and alarm.  For their camp was without either

rampart or palisade, and there remained thousands upon thousands of

their enemies yet unconquered; to whom were joined as many of the

Ambrones as escaped.  There were heard from these, all through the

night, wild bewailings, nothing like the sighs and groans of men, but

a sort of wild-beastlike howling and roaring, joined with threats

and lamentations rising from the vast multitude, and echoed among the

neighboring hills and hollow banks of the river.  The whole plain was

filled with hideous noise, insomuch that the Romans were not a little

afraid, and Marius himself was apprehensive of a confused tumultuous

night engagement.  But the enemy did not stir either this night or

the next day, but were employed in disposing and drawing themselves

up to the greatest advantage.

Of this occasion Marius made good use; for there were beyond the

enemies some wooded ascents and deep valleys thickly set with trees,

whither he sent Claudius Marcellus, secretly, with three thousand

regular soldiers, giving him orders to post them in ambush there, and

show themselves at the rear of the enemies, when the fight was begun.

The others, refreshed with victuals and sleep, as soon as it was day

he drew up before the camp, and commanded the horse to sally out into

the plain, at the sight of which the Teutones could not contain

themselves till the Romans should come down and fight them on equal

terms, but hastily arming themselves, charged in their fury up the

hill-side.  Marius, sending officers to all parts, commanded his men

to stand still and keep their ground; when they came within reach, to

throw their javelins, then use their swords, and, joining their

shields, force them back; pointing out to them that the steepness of

the ground would render the enemy's blows inefficient, nor could

their shields be kept close together, the inequality of the ground

hindering the stability of their footing.

This counsel he gave them, and was the first that followed it; for he

was inferior to none in the use of his body, and far excelled all in

resolution.  The Romans accordingly stood for their approach, and,

checking them in their advance upwards, forced them little by little

to give way and yield down the hill, and here, on the level ground no

sooner had the Ambrones begun to restore their van into a posture of

resistance, but they found their rear disordered.  For Marcellus had

not let slip the opportunity; but as soon as the shout was raised

among the Romans on the hills, he, setting his men in motion, fell in

upon the enemy behind, at full speed, and with loud cries, and routed

those nearest him, and they, breaking the ranks of those that were

before them, filled the whole army with confusion.  They made no long

resistance after they were thus broke in upon, but having lost all

order, fled.

The Romans, pursuing them, slew and took prisoners above one hundred

thousand, and possessing themselves of their spoil, tents, and

carriages, voted all that was not purloined to Marius's share, which,

though so magnificent a present, yet was generally thought less than

his conduct deserved in so great a danger.  Other authors give a

different account, both about the division of the plunder and the

number of the slain.  They say, however, that the inhabitants of

Massilia made fences round their vineyards with the bones, and that

the ground, enriched by the moisture of the putrefied bodies, (which

soaked in with the rain of the following winter,) yielded at the

season a prodigious crop, and fully justified Archilochus, who said,

that the fallows thus are fattened.  It is an observation, also, that

extraordinary rains pretty generally fall after great battles;

whether it be that some divine power thus washes and cleanses the

polluted earth with showers from above, or that moist and heavy

evaporations, steaming forth from the blood and corruption, thicken

the air, which naturally is subject to alteration from the smallest

causes.

After the battle, Marius chose out from amongst the barbarians'

spoils and arms, those that were whole and handsome, and that would

make the greatest show in his triumph; the rest he heaped upon a

large pile, and offered a very splendid sacrifice.  Whilst the army

stood round about with their arms and garlands, himself attired

(as the fashion is on such occasions) in the purple-bordered robe,

taking a lighted torch, and with both hands lifting it up towards

heaven, he was then going to put it to the pile, when some friends

were espied with all haste coming towards him on horseback.  Upon

which every one remained in silence and expectation.  They, upon

their coming up, leapt off and saluted Marius, bringing him the news

of his fifth consulship, and delivered him letters to that effect.

This gave the addition of no small joy to the solemnity; and while

the soldiers clashed their arms and shouted, the officers again

crowned Marius with a laurel-wreath, and he thus set fire to the

pile, and finished his sacrifice.

But whatever it be, which interferes to prevent the enjoyment of

prosperity ever being pure and sincere, and still diversifies human

affairs with the mixture of good and bad, whether fortune or divine

displeasure, or the necessity of the nature of things, within a few

days Marius received an account of his colleague, Catulus, which as a

cloud in serenity and calm, terrified Rome with the apprehension of

another imminent storm.  Catulus, who marched against the Cimbri,

despairing of being able to defend the passes of the Alps, lest,

being compelled to divide his forces into several parties, he should

weaken himself, descended again into Italy, and posted his army

behind the river Adige; where he occupied the passages with strong

fortifications on both sides the river, and made a bridge, that so he

might cross to the assistance of his men on the other side, if so be

the enemy, having forced their way through the mountain passes,

should storm the fortresses.  The barbarians, however, came on with

such insolence and contempt of their enemies, that to show their

strength and courage, rather than out of any necessity, they went

naked in the showers of snow, and through the ice and deep snow

climbed up to the tops of the hills, and from thence, placing their

broad shields under their bodies, let themselves slide from the

precipices along their vast slippery descents.

When they had pitched their camp at a little distance from the river,

and surveyed the passage, they began to pile it up, giant-like,

tearing down the neighboring hills; and brought trees pulled up by

the roots, and heaps of earth to the river, damming up its course;

and with great heavy materials which they rolled down the stream and

dashed against the bridge, they forced away the beams which supported

it; in consequence of which the greatest part of the Roman soldiers,

much affrighted, left the large camp and fled.  Here Catulus showed

himself a generous and noble general, in preferring the glory of his

people before his own; for when he could not prevail with his

soldiers to stand to their colors, but saw how they all deserted

them, he commanded his own standard to be taken up, and running to

the foremost of those that fled, he led them forward, choosing rather

that the disgrace should fall upon himself than upon his country, and

that they should not seem to fly, but, following their captain, to

make a retreat.  The barbarians assaulted and took the fortress on

the other side the Adige; where much admiring the few Romans there

left, who had shown extreme courage, and had fought worthily of their

country, they dismissed them upon terms, swearing them upon their

brazen bull, which was afterwards taken in the battle, and carried,

they say, to Catulus's house, as the chief trophy of victory.

Thus falling in upon the country destitute of defense, they wasted it

on all sides.  Marius was presently sent for to the city; where, when

he arrived, every one supposing he would triumph, the senate, too,

unanimously voting it, he himself did not think it convenient;

whether that he were not willing to deprive his soldiers and officers

of their share of the glory, or that to encourage the people in this

juncture, he would leave the honor due to his past victory on trust,

as it were, in the hands of the city and its future fortune;

deferring it now, to receive it afterwards with the greater splendor.

Having left such orders as the occasion required, he hastened to

Catulus, whose drooping spirits he much raised, and sent for his own

army from Gaul:  and as soon as it came, passing the river Po, he

endeavored to keep the barbarians out of that part of Italy which

lies south of it.

They professed they were in expectation of the Teutones, and, saying

they wondered they were so long in coming, deferred the battle;

either that they were really ignorant of their defeat, or were

willing to seem so.  For they certainly much maltreated those that

brought them such news, and, sending to Marius, required some part of

the country for themselves and their brethren, and cities fit for

them to inhabit.  When Marius inquired of the ambassadors who their

brethren were, upon their saying, the Teutones, all that were present

began to laugh; and Marius scoffingly answered them, "Do not trouble

yourselves for your brethren, for we have already provided lands for

them, which they shall possess forever."  The ambassadors,

understanding the mockery, broke into insults, and threatened that

the Cimbri would make him pay for this, and the Teutones, too, when

they came.  "They are not far off," replied Marius, "and it will be

unkindly done of you to go away before greeting your brethren."

Saying so, he commanded the kings of the Teutones to be brought out.

as they were, in chains; for they were taken by the Sequani among the

Alps, before they could make their escape.  This was no sooner made

known to the Cimbri, but they with all expedition came against

Marius, who then lay still and guarded his camp.

It is said, that against this battle, Marius first altered the

construction of the Roman javelins.  For before, at the place where

the wood was joined to the iron, it was made fast with two iron pins;

but now Marius let one of them alone as it was, and pulling out the

other, put a weak wooden peg in its place, thus contriving, that when

it was driven into the enemy's shield, it should not stand right out,

but the wooden peg breaking, the iron should bend, and so the javelin

should hold fast by its crooked point, and drag.  Boeorix, king of

the Cimbri, came with a small party of horse to the Roman camp, and

challenged Marius to appoint the time and place, where they might

meet and fight for the country.  Marius answered, that the Romans

never consulted their enemies when to fight; however, he would

gratify the Cimbri so far; and so they fixed upon the third day

after, and for the place, the plain near Vercellae, which was

convenient enough for the Roman horse, and afforded room for the

enemy to display their numbers.

They observed the time appointed, and drew out their forces against

each other.  Catulus commanded twenty thousand three hundred, and

Marius thirty-two thousand, who were placed in the two wings, leaving

Catulus the center.  Sylla, who was present at the fight, gives this

account; saying, also, that Marius drew up his army in this order,

because he expected that the armies would meet on the wings, since it

generally happens that in such extensive fronts the center falls

back, and thus he would have the whole victory to himself and his

soldiers, and Catulus would not be even engaged.  They tell us, also,

that Catulus himself alleged this in vindication of his honor,

accusing, in various ways, the enviousness of Marius.  The infantry

of the Cimbri marched quietly out of their fortifications, having

their flanks equal to their front; every side of the army taking up

thirty furlongs.  Their horse, that were in number fifteen thousand,

made a very splendid appearance.  They wore helmets, made to resemble

the heads and jaws of wild beasts, and other strange shapes, and

heightening these with plumes of feathers, they made themselves

appear taller than they were.  They had breastplates of iron, and

white glittering shields; and for their offensive arms, every one had

two darts, and when they came hand to hand, they used large and heavy

swords.

The cavalry did not fall directly upon the front of the Romans, but,

turning to the right, they endeavored to draw them on in that

direction by little and little, so as to get them between themselves

and their infantry, who were placed in the left wing.  The Roman

commanders soon perceived the design, but could not contain the

soldiers; for one happening to shout out that the enemy fled, they

all rushed to pursue them, while the whole barbarian foot came on,

moving like a great ocean.  Here Marius, having washed his hands, and

lifting them up towards heaven, vowed an hecatomb to the gods; and

Catulus, too, in the same posture, solemnly promised to consecrate a

temple to the "Fortune of that day."  They say, too, that Marius,

having the victim showed to him as he was sacrificing, cried out with

a loud voice, "the victory is mine."

However, in the engagement, according to the accounts of Sylla and

his friends, Marius met with what might be called a mark of divine

displeasure.  For a great dust being raised, which (as it might very

probably happen) almost covered both the armies, he, leading on his

forces to the pursuit, missed the enemy, and having passed by their

array, moved, for a good space, up and down the field; meanwhile the

enemy, by chance, engaged with Catulus, and the heat of the battle

was chiefly with him and his men, among whom Sylla says he was;

adding, that the Romans had great advantage of the heat and sun that

shone in the faces of the Cimbri.  For they, well able to endure cold,

and having been bred up, (as we observed before,) in cold and shady

countries, were overcome with the excessive heat; they sweated

extremely, and were much out of breath, being forced to hold their

shields before their faces; for the battle was fought not long after

the summer solstice, or, as the Romans reckon, upon the third day

before the new moon of the month now called August, and then

Sextilis.  The dust, too, gave the Romans no small addition to their

courage, inasmuch as it hid the enemy.  For afar off they could not

discover their number; but every one advancing to encounter those

that were nearest to them, they came to fight hand to hand, before

the sight of so vast a multitude had struck terror into them.  They

were so much used to labor, and so well exercised, that in all the

heat and toil of the encounter, not one of them was observed either

to sweat, or to be out of breath; so much so, that Catulus himself,

they say, recorded it in commendation of his soldiers.

Here the greatest part and most valiant of the enemies were cut in

pieces; for those that fought in the front, that they might not break

their ranks, were fast tied to one another, with long chains put

through their belts.  But as they pursued those that fled to their

camp, they witnessed a most fearful tragedy; the women, standing in

black clothes on their wagons, slew all that fled, some their

husbands, some their brethren, others their fathers; and strangling

their little children with their own hands, threw them under the

wheels, and the feet of the cattle, and then killed themselves.  They

tell of one who hung herself from the end of the pole of a wagon,

with her children tied dangling at her heels.  The men, for want of

trees, tied themselves, some to the horns of the oxen, others by the

neck to their legs, that so pricking them on, by the starting and

springing of the beasts, they might be torn and trodden to pieces.

Yet for all they thus massacred themselves, above sixty thousand were

taken prisoners, and those that were slain were said to be twice as

many.

The ordinary plunder was taken by Marius's soldiers, but the other

spoils, as ensigns, trumpets, and the like, they say, were brought to

Catulus's camp; which he used for the best argument that the victory

was obtained by himself and his army.  Some dissensions arising, as

was natural, among the soldiers, the deputies from Parma being then

present, were made judges of the controversy; whom Catulus's men

carried about among their slain enemies, and manifestly showed them

that they were slain by their javelins, which were known by the

inscriptions, having Catulus's name cut in the wood.  Nevertheless,

the whole glory of the action was ascribed to Marius, on account of

his former victory, and under color of his present authority; the

populace more especially styling him the third founder of their city,

as having diverted a danger no less threatening than was that when

the Gauls sacked Rome; and every one, in their feasts and rejoicings

at home with their wives and children, made offerings and libations

in honor of "The Gods and Marius;" and would have had him solely have

the honor of both the triumphs.  However, he did not do so, but

triumphed together with Catulus, being desirous to show his

moderation even in such great circumstances of good fortune, besides,

he was not a little afraid of the soldiers in Catulus's army, lest,

if he should wholly bereave their general of the honor, they should

endeavor to hinder him of his triumph.

Marius was now in his fifth consulship, and he sued for his sixth in

such a manner as never any man before him, had done, even for his

first; he courted the people's favor and ingratiated himself with the

multitude by every sort of complaisance; not only derogating from the

state and dignity of his office, but also belying his own character,

by attempting to seem popular and obliging, for which nature had

never designed him.  His passion for distinction did, indeed, they

say, make him exceedingly timorous in any political matters, or in

confronting public assemblies; and that undaunted presence of mind he

always showed in battle against the enemy, forsook him when he was to

address the people; he was easily upset by the most ordinary

commendation or dispraise.  It is told of him, that having at one

time given the freedom of the city to one thousand men of Camerinum

who had behaved valiantly in this war, and this seeming to be

illegally done, upon some one or other calling him to an account for

it, he answered, that the law spoke too softly to be heard in such a

noise of war; yet he himself appeared to be more disconcerted and

overcome by the clamor made in the assemblies.  The need they had of

him in time of war procured him power and dignity; but in civil

affairs, when he despaired of getting the first place, he was forced

to betake himself to the favor of the people, never caring to be a

good man, so that he were but a great one.

He thus became very odious to all the nobility; and, above all, he

feared Metellus, who had been so ungratefully used by him, and whose

true virtue made him naturally an enemy to those that sought

influence with the people, not by the honorable course, but by

subservience and complaisance.  Marius, therefore, endeavored to

banish him from the city, and for this purpose he contracted a close

alliance with Glaucia and Saturninus, a couple of daring fellows, who

had the great mass of the indigent and seditious multitude at their

control; and by their assistance he enacted various laws, and

bringing the soldiers, also, to attend the assembly, he was enabled

to overpower Metellus.  And as Rutilius relates, (in all other

respects a fair and faithful authority, but, indeed, privately an

enemy to Marius,) he obtained his sixth consulship by distributing

vast sums of money among the tribes, and by this bribery kept out

Metellus, and had Valerius Flaccus given him as his instrument,

rather than his colleague, in the consulship.  The people had never

before bestowed so many consulships on any one man, except on

Valerius Corvinus only, and he, too, they say, was forty-five years

between his first and last; but Marius, from his first, ran through

five more, with one current of good fortune.

In the last, especially, he contracted a great deal of hatred, by

committing several gross misdemeanors in compliance with the desires

of Saturninus; among which was the murder of Nonius, whom Saturninus

slew, because he stood in competition with him for the tribuneship.

And when, afterwards, Saturninus, on becoming tribune, brought

forward his law for the division of lands, with a clause enacting

that the senate should publicly swear to confirm whatever the people

should vote, and not to oppose them in anything, Marius, in the

senate, cunningly feigned to be against this provision, and said that

he would not take any such oath, nor would any man, he thought, who

was wise; for if there were no ill design in the law, still it would

be an affront to the senate, to be compelled to give their

approbation, and not to do it willingly and upon persuasion.  This he

said, not that it was agreeable to his own sentiments, but that he

might entrap Metellus beyond any possibility of escape.  For Marius,

in whose ideas virtue and capacity consisted largely in deceit, made

very little account of what he had openly professed to the senate;

and knowing that Metellus was one of a fixed resolution, and, as

Pindar has it, esteemed Truth the first principle of heroic virtue;

he hoped to ensnare him into a declaration before the senate, and on

his refusing, as he was sure to do, afterwards to take the oath, he

expected to bring him into such odium with the people, as should

never be wiped off.  The design succeeded to his wish.  As soon as

Metellus had declared that he would not swear to it, the senate

adjourned.  A few days after, on Saturninus citing the senators to

make their appearance, and take the oath before the people, Marius

stepped forth, amidst a profound silence, every one being intent to

hear him, and bidding farewell to those fine speeches he had before

made in the senate, said, that his back was not so broad that he

should think himself bound, once for all, by any opinion once given

on so important a matter; he would willingly swear and submit to the

law, if so be it were one, a proviso which he added as a mere cover

for his effrontery.  The people, in great joy at his taking the oath,

loudly clapped and applauded him, while the nobility stood by ashamed

and vexed at his inconstancy; but they submitted out of fear of the

people, and all in order took the oath, till it came to Metellus's

turn.  But he, though his friends begged and entreated him to take

it, and not to plunge himself irrecoverably into the penalties which

Saturninus had provided for those that should refuse it, would not

flinch from his resolution, nor swear; but, according to his fixed

custom, being ready to suffer anything rather than do a base,

unworthy action, he left the forum, telling those that were with him,

that to do a wrong thing is base, and to do well where there is no

danger, common; the good man's characteristic is to do so, where

there is danger.

Hereupon Saturninus put it to the vote, that the consuls should place

Metellus under their interdict, and forbid him fire, water, and

lodging.  There were enough, too, of the basest of people ready to

kill him.  Nevertheless, when many of the better sort were extremely

concerned, and gathered about Metellus, he would not suffer them to

raise a sedition upon his account, but with this calm reflection left

the city, "Either when the posture of affairs is mended and the

people repent, I shall be recalled, or if things remain in their

present condition, it will be best to be absent."  But what great

favor and honor Metellus received in his banishment, and in what

manner he spent his time at Rhodes, in philosophy, will be more fitly

our subject, when we write his life.

Marius, in return for this piece of service, was forced to connive at

Saturninus, now proceeding to the very height of insolence and

violence, and was, without knowing it, the instrument of mischief

beyond endurance, the only course of which was through outrages and

massacres to tyranny and the subversion of the government.  Standing

in some awe of the nobility, and, at the same time, eager to court

the commonalty, he was guilty of a most mean and dishonest action.

When some of the great men came to him at night to stir him up

against Saturninus, at the other door, unknown to them, he let him

in; then making the same presence of some disorder of body to both,

he ran from one party to the other, and staying at one time with them

and another with him, he instigated and exasperated them one against

another.  At length when the senate and equestrian order concerted

measures together, and openly manifested their resentment, he did

bring his soldiers into the forum, and driving the insurgents into

the capitol, and then cutting off the conduits, forced them to

surrender by want of water.  They, in this distress, addressing

themselves to him, surrendered, as it is termed, on the public faith.

He did his utmost to save their lives, but so wholly in vain, that

when they came down into the forum, they were all basely murdered.

Thus he had made himself equally odious both to the nobility and

commons, and when the time was come to create censors, though he was

the most obvious man, yet he did not petition for it; but fearing the

disgrace of being repulsed, permitted others, his inferiors, to be

elected, though he pleased himself by giving out, that he was not

willing to disoblige too many by undertaking a severe inspection into

their lives and conduct.

There was now an edict preferred to recall Metellus from banishment;

this he vigorously, but in vain, opposed both by word and deed, and

was at length obliged to desist.  The people unanimously voted for

it; and he, not able to endure the sight of Metellus's return, made a

voyage to Cappadocia and Galatia; giving out that he had to perform

the sacrifices, which he had vowed to Cybele; but actuated really by

other less apparent reasons.  For, in fact, being a man altogether

ignorant of civil life and ordinary politics, he received all his

advancement from war; and supposing his power and glory would by

little and little decrease by his lying quietly out of action, he was

eager by every means to excite some new commotions, and hoped that by

setting at variance some of the kings, and by exasperating

Mithridates, especially, who was then apparently making preparations

for war, he himself should be chosen general against him, and so

furnish the city with new matter of triumph, and his own house with

the plunder of Pontus, and the riches of its king.  Therefore, though

Mithridates entertained him with all imaginable attention and

respect, yet he was not at all wrought upon or softened by it, but

said, "O king, either endeavor to be stronger than the Romans, or

else quietly submit to their commands."  With which he left

Mithridates astonished, as he indeed had often heard the fame of the

bold speaking of the Romans, but now for the first time experienced

it.

When Marius returned again to Rome, he built a house close by the

forum, either, as he himself gave out, that he was not willing his

clients should be tired with going far, or that he imagined distance

was the reason why more did not come.  This, however, was not so; the

real reason was, that being inferior to others in agreeableness of

conversation and the arts of political life, like a mere tool and

implement of war, he was thrown aside in time of peace.  Amongst all

those whose brightness eclipsed his glory, he was most incensed

against Sylla, who had owed his rise to the hatred which the nobility

bore Marius; and had made his disagreement with him the one principle

of his political life.  When Bocchus, king of Numidia, who was styled

the associate of the Romans, dedicated some figures of Victory in the

capitol, and with them a representation in gold, of himself

delivering Jugurtha to Sylla, Marius upon this was almost distracted

with rage and ambition, as though Sylla had arrogated this honor to

himself, and endeavored forcibly to pull down these presents; Sylla,

on the other side, as vigorously resisted him; but the Social War

then on a sudden threatening the city, put a stop to this sedition,

when just ready to break out.  For the most warlike and best-peopled

countries of all Italy formed a confederacy together against Rome,

and were within a little of subverting the empire; as they were

indeed strong, not only in their weapons and the valor of their

soldiers, but stood nearly upon equal terms with the Romans, as to

the skill and daring of their commanders.

As much glory and power as this war, so various in its events and so

uncertain as to its success, conferred upon Sylla, so much it took

away from Marius, who was thought tardy, unenterprising, and timid,

whether it were that his age was now quenching his former heat and

vigor, (for he was above sixty-five years old,) or that having, as he

himself said, some distemper that affected his muscles, and his body

being unfit for action, he did service above his strength.  Yet, for

all this, he came off victor in a considerable battle, wherein he

slew six thousand of the enemies, and never once gave them any

advantage over him; and when he was surrounded by the works of the

enemy, he contained himself, and though insulted over, and

challenged, did not yield to the provocation.  The story is told that

when Publius Silo, a man of the greatest repute and authority among

the enemies, said to him, "If you are indeed a great general, Marius,

leave your camp and fight a battle," he replied, "If you are one,

make me do so."  And another time, when the enemy gave them a good

opportunity of a battle, and the Romans through fear durst not

charge, so that both parties retreated, he called an assembly of his

soldiers and said, "It is no small question whether I should call

the enemies, or you, the greater cowards, for neither did they dare

to face your backs, nor you to confront theirs."  At length,

professing to be worn out with the infirmity of his body, he laid

down his command.

Afterwards, when the Italians were worsted, there were several

candidates suing, with the aid of the popular leaders, for the chief

command in the war with Mithridates.  Sulpicius, tribune of the

people, a bold and confident man, contrary to everybody's

expectation, brought forward Marius, and proposed him as proconsul

and general in that war.  The people were divided; some were on

Marius's side, others voted for Sylla, and jeeringly bade Marius go

to his baths at Baiae, to cure his body, worn out, as himself

confessed, with age and catarrhs.  Marius had, indeed, there, about

Misenum, a villa more effeminately and luxuriously furnished than

seemed to become one that had seen service in so many and great wars

and expeditions.  This same house Cornelia bought for seventy-five

thousand drachmas, and not long after Lucius Lucullus, for two

million five hundred thousand; so rapid and so great was the growth

of Roman sumptuosity.  Yet, in spite of all this, out of a mere

boyish passion for distinction, affecting to shake off his age and

weakness, he went down daily to the Campus Martius, and exercising

himself with the youth, showed himself still nimble in his armor,

and expert in riding; though he was undoubtedly grown bulky in his

old age, and inclining to excessive fatness and corpulency.

Some people were pleased with this, and went continually to see him

competing and displaying himself in these exercises; but the better

sort that saw him, pitied the cupidity and ambition that made one who

had risen from utter poverty to extreme wealth, and out of nothing

into greatness, unwilling to admit any limit to his high fortune, or

to be content with being admired, and quietly enjoying what he had

already got:  why, as if he still were indigent, should he at so

great an age leave his glory and his triumphs to go into Cappadocia

and the Euxine Sea, to fight Archelaus and Neoptolemus, Mithridates's

generals?  Marius's pretenses for this action of his seemed very

ridiculous; for he said he wanted to go and teach his son to be a

general.

The condition of the city, which had long been unsound and diseased,

became hopeless now that Marius found so opportune an instrument for

the public destruction as Sulpicius's insolence.  This man professed,

in all other respects, to admire and imitate Saturninus; only he

found fault with him for backwardness and want of spirit in his

designs.  He, therefore, to avoid this fault, got six hundred of the

equestrian order about him as his guard, whom he named anti-senators;

and with these confederates he set upon the consuls, whilst they were

at the assembly, and took the son of one of them, who fled from the

forum, and slew him.  Sylla, being hotly pursued, took refuge in

Marius's house, which none could suspect, by that means escaping

those that sought him, who hastily passed by there, and, it is said,

was safely conveyed by Marius himself out at the other door, and came

to the camp.  Yet Sylla, in his memoirs, positively denies that he

fled to Marius, saying he was carried thither to consult upon the

matters to which Sulpicius would have forced him, against his will,

to consent; that he, surrounding him with drawn swords, hurried him

to Marius, and constrained him thus, till he went thence to the forum

and removed, as they required him to do, the interdict on business.

Sulpicius, having thus obtained the mastery, decreed the command of

the army to Marius, who proceeded to make preparations for his march,

and sent two tribunes to receive the charge of the army from Sylla.

Sylla hereupon exasperating his soldiers, who were about thirty-five

thousand full-armed men, led them towards Rome.  First falling upon

the tribunes Marius had sent, they slew them; Marius having done as

much for several of Sylla's friends in Rome, and now offering their

freedom to the slaves on condition of their assistance in the war; of

whom, however, they say, there were but three who accepted his

proposal.  For some small time he made head against Sylla's assault,

but was soon overpowered and fled; those that were with him, as soon

as he had escaped out of the city, were dispersed, and night coming

on, he hastened to a country-house of his, called Solonium.  Hence he

sent his son to some neighboring farms of his father-in-law, Mucius,

to provide necessaries; he went himself to Ostia, where his friend

Numerius had prepared him a ship, and hence, not staying for his son,

he took with him his son-in-law Granius, and weighed anchor.

Young Marius, coming to Mucius's farms, made his preparations; and

the day breaking, was almost discovered by the enemy.  For there came

thither a party of horse that suspected some such matter; but the

farm steward, foreseeing their approach, hid Marius in a cart full of

beans, then yoking in his team and driving toward the city, met

those that were in search of him.  Marius, thus conveyed home to his

wife, took with him some necessaries, and came at night to the

sea-side; where, going on board a ship that was bound for Africa, he

went away thither.  Marius, the father, when he had put to sea, with

a strong gale passing along the coast of Italy, was in no small

apprehension of one Geminius, a great man at Terracina, and his

enemy; and therefore bade the seamen hold off from that place.  They

were, indeed, willing to gratify him, but the wind now blowing in

from the sea, and making the waves swell to a great height, they were

afraid the ship would not be able to weather out the storm, and

Marius, too, being indisposed and seasick, they made for land, and

not without some difficulty reached the shore near Circeium.

The storm now increasing and their victuals failing, they left their

ship and wandered up and down without any certain purpose, simply as

in great distresses people shun the present as the greatest evil, and

rely upon the hopes of uncertainties.  For the land and sea were both

equally unsafe for them; it was dangerous to meet with people, and it

was no less so to meet with none, on account of their want of

necessaries.  At length, though late, they lighted upon a few poor

shepherds, that had not anything to relieve them; but knowing

Marius, advised him to depart as soon as might be, for they had seen

a little beyond that place a party of horse that were gone in search

of him.  Finding himself in a great straight, especially because

those that attended him were not able to go further, being spent with

their long fasting, for the present he turned aside out of the road,

and hid himself in a thick wood, where he passed the night in great

wretchedness.  The next day, pinched with hunger, and willing to make

use of the little strength he had, before it were all exhausted, he

traveled by the seaside, encouraging his companions not to fall away

from him before the fulfillment of his final hopes, for which, in

reliance on some old predictions, he professed to be sustaining

himself.  For when he was yet but very young, and lived in the

country, he caught in the skirt of his garment an eagle's nest, as it

was falling, in which were seven young ones, which his parents seeing

and much admiring, consulted the augurs about it, who told them that

he should become the greatest man in the world, and that the fates

had decreed he should seven times be possessed of the supreme power

and authority.  Some are of opinion that this really happened to

Marius, as we have related it; others say, that those who then and

through the rest of his exile heard him tell these stories, and

believed him, have merely repeated a story that is altogether

fabulous; for an eagle never hatches more than two; and even Musaeus

was deceived, who, speaking of the eagle, says that, —

"She lays three eggs, hatches two, and rears one."

However this be, it is certain Marius, in his exile and greatest

extremities, would often say, that he should attain a seventh

consulship.

When Marius and his company were now about twenty furlongs distant

from Minturnae, a city in Italy, they espied a troop, of horse making

up toward them with all speed, and by chance, also, at the same time,

two ships under sail.  Accordingly, they ran every one with what

speed and strength they could to the sea, and plunging into it, swam

to the ships.  Those that were with Granius, reaching one of them,

passed over to an island opposite, called Aenaria; Marius himself

whose body was heavy and unwieldy, was with great pains and

difficulty kept above the water by two servants, and put into the

other ship.  The soldiers were by this time come to the seaside, and

from thence called out to the seamen to put to shore, or else to

throw out Marius, and then they might go whither they would.  Marius

besought them with tears to the contrary, and the masters of the

ship, after frequent changes, in a short space of time, of their

purpose, inclining, first to one, then to the other side, resolved at

length to answer the soldiers, that they would not give up Marius.

As soon as they had ridden off in a rage, the seamen, again changing

their resolution, came to land, and casting anchor at the mouth of

the river Liris, where it overflows and makes a great marsh, they

advised him to land, refresh himself on shore, and take some care of

his discomposed body, till the wind came fairer; which, said they,

will happen at such an hour, when the wind from the sea will calm,

and that from the marshes rise.  Marius, following their advice, did

so, and when the sea-men had set him on shore, he laid him down in an

adjacent field, suspecting nothing less than what was to befall him.

They, as soon as they had got into the ship, weighed anchor and

departed, as thinking it neither honorable to deliver Marius into the

hands of those that sought him, nor safe to protect him.

He thus, deserted by all, lay a good while silently on the shore; at

length collecting himself, he advanced with pain and difficulty,

without any path, till, wading through deep bogs and ditches full of

water and mud, he came upon the hut of an old man that worked in the

fens, and falling at his feet besought him to assist and preserve one

who, if he escaped the present danger, would make him returns beyond

his expectation.  The poor man, whether he had formerly known him, or

were then moved with his superior aspect, told him that if he wanted

only rest, his cottage would be convenient; but if he were flying

from anybody's search, he would hide him in a more retired place.

Marius desiring him to do so, he carried him into the fens and bade

him hide himself in an hollow place by the river side, where he laid

upon him a great many reeds, and other things that were light, and

would cover, but not oppress him.  But within a very short time he

was disturbed with a noise and tumult from the cottage, for Geminius

had sent several from Terracina in pursuit of him; some of whom,

happening to come that way, frightened and threatened the old man for

having entertained and hid an enemy of the Romans.  Wherefore Marius,

arising and stripping himself, plunged into a puddle full of thick

muddy water; and even there he could not escape their search, but was

pulled out covered with mire, and carried away naked to Minturnae,

and delivered to the magistrates.  For there had been orders sent

through all the towns, to make public search for Marius, and if they

found him to kill him; however, the magistrates thought convenient to

consider a little better of it first, and sent him prisoner to the

house of one Fannia.

This woman was supposed not very well affected towards him upon an

old account.  One Tinnius had formerly married this Fannia; from whom

she afterwards being divorced, demanded her portion, which was

considerable, but her husband accused her of adultery; so the

controversy was brought before Marius in his sixth consulship.  When

the cause was examined thoroughly, it appeared both that Fannia had

been incontinent, and that her husband knowing her to be so, had

married and lived a considerable time with her.  So that Marius was

severe enough with both, commanding him to restore her portion, and

laying a fine of four copper coins upon her by way of disgrace.  But

Fannia did not then behave like a woman that had been injured, but as

soon as she saw Marius, remembered nothing less than old affronts;

took care of him according to her ability, and comforted him.  He

made her his returns and told her he did not despair, for he had met

with a lucky omen, which was thus.  When he was brought to Fannia's

house, as soon as the gate was opened, an ass came running out to

drink at a spring hard by, and giving a bold and encouraging look,

first stood still before him, then brayed aloud and pranced by him.

From which Marius drew his conclusion, and said, that the fates

designed him safety, rather by sea than land, because the ass

neglected his dry fodder, and turned from it to the water.  Having

told Fannia this story, he bade the chamber door to be shut and went

to rest.

Meanwhile the magistrates and councilors of Minturnae consulted

together, and determined not to delay any longer, but immediately to

kill Marius; and when none of their citizens durst undertake the

business, a certain soldier, a Gaulish or Cimbrian horseman, (the

story is told both ways,) went in with his sword drawn to him.  The

room itself was not very light, that part of it especially where he

then lay was dark, from whence Marius's eyes, they say, seemed to the

fellow to dart out flames at him, and a loud voice to say, out of the

dark, "Fellow, darest thou kill Caius Marius?"  The barbarian

hereupon immediately fled, and leaving his sword in the place rushed

out of doors, crying only this, "I cannot kill Caius Marius."  At

which they were all at first astonished, and presently began to feel

pity, and remorse, and anger at themselves for making so unjust and

ungrateful a decree against one who had preserved Italy, and whom it

was bad enough not to assist.  "Let him go," said they, "where he

please to banishment, and find his fate somewhere else; we only

entreat pardon of the gods for thrusting Marius distressed and

deserted out of our city."

Impelled by thoughts of this kind, they went in a body into the room,

and taking him amongst them, conducted him towards the sea-side; on

his way to which, though everyone was very officious to him, and all

made what haste they could, yet a considerable time was likely to be

lost.  For the grove of Marica, (as she is called,) which the people

hold sacred, and make it a point of religion not to let anything

that is once carried into it be taken out, lay just in their road to

the sea, and if they should go round about, they must needs come very

late thither.  At length one of the old men cried out and said, there

was no place so sacred, but they might pass through it for Marius's

preservation; and thereupon, first of all, he himself, taking up some

of the baggage that was carried for his accommodation to the ship,

passed through the grove, all the rest immediately, with the same

readiness, accompanying him.  And one Belaeus, (who afterwards had a

picture of these things drawn, and put it in a temple at the place of

embarkation,) having by this time provided him a ship, Marius went on

board, and, hoisting sail, was by fortune thrown upon the island

Aenaria, where meeting with Granius, and his other friends, he sailed

with them for Africa.  But their water failing them in the way, they

were forced to put in near Eryx, in Sicily, where was a Roman

quaestor on the watch, who all but captured Marius himself on his

landing, and did kill sixteen of his retinue that went to fetch

water.  Marius, with all expedition loosing thence, crossed the sea

to the isle of Meninx, where he first heard the news of his son's

escape with Cethegus, and of his going to implore the assistance of

Hiempsal, king of Numidia.

With this news, being somewhat comforted, he ventured to pass from

that isle towards Carthage.  Sextilius, a Roman, was then governor in

Africa; one that had never received either any injury or any

kindness from Marius; but who from compassion, it was hoped, might

lend him some help.  But he was scarce got ashore with a small

retinue, when an officer met him, and said, "Sextilius, the governor,

forbids you, Marius, to set foot in Africa; if you do, he says, he

will put the decree of the senate in execution, and treat you as an

enemy to the Romans."  When Marius heard this, he wanted words to

express his grief and resentment, and for a good while held his

peace, looking sternly upon the messenger, who asked him what he

should say, or what answer he should return to the governor?  Marius

answered him with a deep sigh:  "Go tell him that you have seen Caius

Marius sitting in exile among the ruins of Carthage;" appositely

applying the example of the fortune of that city to the change of his

own condition.

In the interim, Hiempsal, king of Numidia, dubious of what he should

determine to do, treated young Marius and those that were with him

very honorably; but when they had a mind to depart, he still had some

presence or other to detain them, and it was manifest he made these

delays upon no good design.  However, there happened an accident that

made well for their preservation.  The hard fortune which attended

young Marius, who was of a comely aspect, touched one of the king's

concubines, and this pity of hers, was the beginning and occasion of

love for him.  At first he declined the woman's solicitations, but

when he perceived that there was no other way of escaping, and that

her offers were more serious than for the gratification of

intemperate passion, he accepted her kindness, and she finding means

to convey them away, he escaped with his friends and fled to his

father.  As soon as they had saluted each other, and were going by

the sea-side, they saw some scorpions fighting, which Marius took

for an ill omen, whereupon they immediately went on board a little

fisher-boat, and made toward Cercina, an island not far distant from

the continent.  They had scarce put off from shore when they espied

some horse, sent after them by the king, with all speed making toward

that very place from which they were just retired.  And Marius thus

escaped a danger, it might be said, as great as any he ever incurred.

At Rome news came that Sylla was engaged with Mithridates's generals

in Boeotia; the consuls, from factious opposition, were fallen to

downright fighting, wherein Octavius prevailing, drove Cinna out of

the city for attempting despotic government, and made Cornelius

Merula consul in his stead; while Cinna, raising forces in other

parts of Italy, carried the war against them.  As soon as Marius

heard of this, he resolved, with all expedition, to put to sea again,

and taking with him from Africa some Mauritanian horse, and a few of

the refugees out of Italy, all together not above one thousand, he,

with this handful, began his voyage.  Arriving at Telamon, in

Etruria, and coming ashore, he proclaimed freedom for the slaves; and

many of the countrymen, also, and shepherds thereabouts, who were

already freemen, at the hearing his name flocked to him to the

sea-side.  He persuaded the youngest and strongest to join him, and

in a small time got together a competent force with which he filled

forty ships.  Knowing Octavius to be a good man and willing to

execute his office with the greatest justice imaginable, and Cinna to

be suspected by Sylla, and in actual warfare against the established

government, he determined to join himself and his forces with the

latter.  He, therefore, sent a message to him, to let him know that

he was ready to obey him as consul.

When Cinna had joyfully received his offer, naming him proconsul, and

sending him the fasces and other ensigns of authority, he said, that

grandeur did not become his present fortune; but wearing an ordinary

habit, and still letting his hair grow as it had done, from that very

day he first went into banishment, and being now above threescore and

ten years old, he came slowly on foot, designing to move people's

compassion; which did not prevent, however, his natural fierceness of

expression from still predominating, and his humiliation still let it

appear that he was not so much dejected as exasperated, by the change

of his condition.  Having saluted Cinna and the soldiers, he

immediately prepared for action, and soon made a considerable

alteration in the posture of affairs.  He first cut off the provision

ships, and plundering all the merchants, made himself master of the

supplies of corn; then bringing his navy to the seaport towns, he

took them, and at last, becoming master of Ostia by treachery, he

pillaged that town, and slew a multitude of the inhabitants, and,

blocking up the river, took from the enemy all hopes of supply by the

sea; then marched with his army toward the city, and posted himself

upon the hill called Janiculum.

The public interest did not receive so great damage from Octavius's

unskillfulness in his management of affairs, as from his omitting

needful measures, through too strict observance of the law.  As when

several advised him to make the slaves free, he said that he would

not give slaves the privilege of the country from which he then, in

defense of the laws, was driving away Marius.  When Metellus, son to

that Metellus who was general in the war in Africa, and afterwards

banished through Marius's means, came to Rome, being thought a much

better commander than Octavius, the soldiers, deserting the consul,

came to him and desired him to take the command of them and preserve

the city; that they, when they had got an experienced valiant

commander, should fight courageously, and come off conquerors.  But

when Metellus, offended at it, commanded them angrily to return to

the consul, they revolted to the enemy.  Metellus, too, seeing the

city in a desperate condition, left it; but a company of Chaldaeans,

sacrificers, and interpreters of the Sibyl's books, persuaded

Octavius that things would turn out happily, and kept him at Rome.

He was, indeed, of all the Romans the most upright and just, and

maintained the honor of the consulate, without cringing or

compliance, as strictly in accordance with ancient laws and usages,

as though they had been immutable mathematical truths; and yet fell,

I know not how, into some weaknesses, giving more observance to

fortune-tellers and diviners, than to men skilled in civil and

military affairs.  He therefore, before Marius entered the city, was

pulled down from the rostra, and murdered by those that were sent

before by Marius; and it is reported there was a Chaldaean writing

found in his gown, when he was slain.  And it seemed a thing very

unaccountable, that of two famous generals, Marius should be often

successful by the observing divinations, and Octavius ruined by the

same means.

When affairs were in this posture, the senate assembled, and sent a

deputation to Cinna and Marius, desiring them to come into the city

peaceably and spare the citizens.  Cinna, as consul, received the

embassy, sitting in the curule chair, and returned a kind answer to

the messengers; Marius stood by him and said nothing, but gave

sufficient testimony by the gloominess of his countenance, and the

sternness of his looks, that he would in a short time fill the city

with blood.  As soon as the council arose, they went toward the city,

where Cinna entered with his guards, but Marius stayed at the gates,

and, dissembling his rage, professed that he was then an exile and

banished his country by course of law; that if his presence were

necessary, they must, by a new decree, repeal the former act by which

he was banished; as though he were, indeed, a religious observer of

the laws, and as if he were returning to a city free from fear or

oppression.  Hereupon the people were assembled, but before three or

four tribes had given their votes, throwing up his pretenses and his

legal scruples about his banishment, he came into the city with a

select guard of the slaves who had joined him, whom he called

Bardyaei.  These proceeded to murder a number of citizens, as he gave

command, partly by word of mouth, partly by the signal of his nod.

At length Ancharius, a senator, and one that had been praetor, coming

to Marius, and not being resaluted by him, they with their drawn

swords slew him before Marius's face; and henceforth this was their

token, immediately to kill all those who met Marius and saluting him

were taken no notice of, nor answered with the like courtesy; so that

his very friends were not without dreadful apprehensions and horror,

whensoever they came to speak with him.

When they had now butchered a great number, Cinna grew more remiss

and cloyed with murders; but Marius's rage continued still fresh and

unsatisfied, and he daily sought for all that were any way suspected

by him.  Now was every road and every town filled with those that

pursued and hunted them that fled and hid themselves; and it was

remarkable that there was no more confidence to be placed, as things

stood, either in hospitality or friendship; for there were found but

a very few that did not betray those that fled to them for shelter.

And thus the servants of Cornutus deserve the greater praise and

admiration, who, having concealed their master in the house, took the

body of one of the slain, cut off the head, put a gold ring on the

finger, and showed it to Marius's guards, and buried it with the same

solemnity as if it had been their own master.  This trick was

perceived by nobody, and so Cornutus escaped, and was conveyed by his

domestics into Gaul.

Marcus Antonius, the orator, though he, too, found a true friend, had

ill-fortune.  The man was but poor and a plebeian, and as he was

entertaining a man of the greatest rank in Rome, trying to provide

for him with the best he could, he sent his servant to get some wine

of neighboring vintner.  The servant carefully tasting it and bidding

him draw better, the fellow asked him what was the matter, that he

did not buy new and ordinary wine as he used to do, but richer and of

a greater price; he, without any design, told him as his old friend

and acquaintance, that his master entertained Marcus Antonius, who

was concealed with him.  The villainous vintner, as soon as the

servant was gone, went himself to Marius, then at supper, and being

brought into his presence, told him, he would deliver Antonius into

his hands.  As soon as he heard it, it is said he gave a great shout,

and clapped his hands for joy, and had very nearly risen up and gone

to the place himself; but being detained by his friends, he sent

Annius, and some soldiers with him, and commanded him to bring

Antonius's head to him with all speed.  When they came to the house,

Annius stayed at the door, and the soldiers went up stairs into the

chamber; where, seeing Antonius, they endeavored to shuffle off the

murder from one to another; for so great it seems were the graces and

charms of his oratory, that as soon as he began to speak and beg his

life, none of them durst touch or so much as look upon him; but

hanging down their heads, every one fell a weeping.  When their stay

seemed something tedious, Annius came up himself and found Antonius

discoursing, and the soldiers astonished and quite softened by it,

and calling them cowards, went himself and cut off his head.

Catulus Lutatius, who was colleague with Marius, and his partner in

the triumph over the Cimbri, when Marius replied to those that

interceded for him and begged his life, merely with the words, "he

must die," shut himself up in a room, and making a great fire,

smothered himself.  When maimed and headless carcasses were now

frequently thrown about and trampled upon in the streets, people were

not so much moved with compassion at the sight, as struck into a kind

of horror and consternation.  The outrages of those that were called

Bardyaei, was the greatest grievance.  These murdered the masters of

families in their own houses, abused their children, and ravished

their wives, and were uncontrollable in their rapine and murders,

till those of Cinna's and Sertorius's party, taking counsel together,

fell upon them in the camp and killed them every man.

In the interim, as if a change of wind was coming on, there came news

from all parts that Sylla, having put an end to the war with

Mithridates, and taken possession of the provinces, was returning

into Italy with a great army.  This gave some small respite and

intermission to these unspeakable calamities.  Marius and his friends

believing war to be close at hand, Marius was chosen consul the

seventh time, and appearing on the very calends of January, the

beginning of the year, threw one Sextus Lucinus, from the Tarpeian

precipice; an omen, as it seemed, portending the renewed misfortunes

both of their party and of the city.  Marius, himself now worn out

with labor and sinking under the burden of anxieties, could not

sustain his spirits, which shook within him with the apprehension of

a new war and fresh encounters and dangers, the formidable character

of which he knew by his own experience.  He was not now to hazard the

war with Octavius or Merula, commanding an inexperienced multitude or

seditious rabble; but Sylla himself was approaching, the same who had

formerly banished him, and since that, had driven Mithridates as far

as the Euxine Sea.

Perplexed with such thoughts as these, and calling to mind his

banishment, and the tedious wanderings and dangers he underwent, both

by sea and land, he fell into despondency, nocturnal frights, and

unquiet sleep, still fancying that he heard some one telling him,

that

— the lion's lair

Is dangerous, though the lion be not there.

Above all things fearing to lie awake, he gave himself up to drinking

deep and besotting himself at night in a way most unsuitable to his

age; by all means provoking sleep, as a diversion to his thoughts.

At length, on the arrival of a messenger from the sea, he was seized

with new alarms, and so what with his fear for the future, and what

with the burden and satiety of the present, on some slight

predisposing cause, he fell into a pleurisy, as Posidonius the

philosopher relates, who says he visited and conversed with him when

he was sick, about some business relating to his embassy.  Caius

Piso, an historian, tells us, that Marius, walking after supper with

his friends, fell into a conversation with them about his past life,

and after reckoning up the several changes of his condition, that

from the beginning had happened to him, said, that it did not become

a prudent man to trust himself any longer with fortune; and,

thereupon, taking leave of those that were with him, he kept his bed

seven days, and then died.

Some say his ambition betrayed itself openly in his sickness.  and

that he ran into an extravagant frenzy, fancying himself to be

general in the war against Mithridates, throwing himself into such

postures and motions of his body as he had formerly used when he was

in battle, with frequent shouts and loud cries.  With so strong and

invincible a desire of being employed in that business had he been

possessed through his pride and emulation.  Though he had now lived

seventy years, and was the first man that ever was chosen seven times

consul, and had an establishment and riches sufficient for many

kings, he yet complained of his ill fortune, that he must now die

before he had attained what he desired.  Plato, when he saw his death

approaching, thanked the guiding providence and fortune of his life,

first, that he was born a man and a Grecian, not a barbarian or a

brute, and next, that he happened to live in Socrates's age.  And so,

indeed, they say Antipater of Tarsus, in like manner, at his death,

calling to mind the happiness that he had enjoyed, did not so much as

omit his prosperous voyage to Athens; thus recognizing every favor of

his indulgent fortune with the greatest acknowledgments, and

carefully saving all to the last in that safest of human treasure

chambers, the memory.  Unmindful and thoughtless persons, on the

contrary, let all that occurs to them slip away from them as time

passes on.  Retaining and preserving nothing, they lose the enjoyment

of their present prosperity by fancying something better to come;

whereas by fortune we may be prevented of this, but that cannot be

taken from us.  Yet they reject their present success, as though it

did not concern them, and do nothing but dream of future

uncertainties; not indeed unnaturally; as till men have by reason and

education laid good foundation for external superstructures, in the

seeking after and gathering them they can never satisfy the unlimited

desires of their mind.

Thus died Marius on the seventeenth day of his seventh consulship, to

the great joy and content of Rome, which thereby was in good hopes to

be delivered from the calamity of a cruel tyranny; but in a small

time they found, that they had only changed their old and worn-out

master for another young and vigorous; so much cruelty and savageness

did his son Marius show in murdering the noblest and most approved

citizens.  At first, being esteemed resolute and daring against his

enemies, he was named the son of Mars, but afterwards, his actions

betraying his contrary disposition, he was called the son of Venus.

At last, besieged by Sylla in Praeneste, where he endeavored in many

ways, but in vain, to save his life, when on the capture of the city

there was no hope of escape, he killed himself with his own hand.

LYSANDER

The treasure-chamber of the Acanthians at Delphi has this

inscription:  "The spoils which Brasidas and the Acanthians took from

the Athenians."  And, accordingly, many take the marble statue, which

stands within the building by the gates, to be Brasidas's; but,

indeed, it is Lysander's, representing him with his hair at full

length, after the old fashion, and with an ample beard.  Neither is

it true, as some give out, that because the Argives, after their

great defeat, shaved themselves for sorrow, that the Spartans

contrariwise triumphing in their achievements, suffered their hair to

grow; neither did the Spartans come to be ambitious of wearing long

hair, because the Bacchiadae, who fled from Corinth to Lacedaemon,

looked mean and unsightly, having their heads all close cut.  But

this, also, is indeed one of the ordinances of Lycurgus, who, as it

is reported, was used to say, that long hair made good-looking men

more beautiful, and ill-looking men more terrible.

Lysander's father is said to have been Aristoclitus, who was not

indeed of the royal family, but yet of the stock of the Heraclidae.

He was brought up in poverty, and showed himself obedient and

conformable, as ever anyone did, to the customs of his country; of a

manly spirit, also, and superior to all pleasures, excepting only

that which their good actions bring to those who are honored and

successful; and it is accounted no base thing in Sparta for their

young men to be overcome with this kind of pleasure.  For they are

desirous, from the very first, to have their youth susceptible to

good and bad repute, to feel pain at disgrace, and exultation at

being commended; and anyone who is insensible and unaffected in

these respects is thought poor spirited and of no capacity for

virtue.  Ambition and the passion for distinction were thus implanted

in his character by his Laconian education, nor, if they continued

there, must we blame his natural disposition much for this.  But he

was submissive to great men, beyond what seems agreeable to the

Spartan temper, and could easily bear the haughtiness of those who

were in power, when it was any way for his advantage, which some are

of opinion is no small part of political discretion.  Aristotle, who

says all great characters are more or less atrabilious, as Socrates

and Plato and Hercules were, writes, that Lysander, not indeed early

in life, but when he was old, became thus affected.  What is singular

in his character is that he endured poverty very well, and that he

was not at all enslaved or corrupted by wealth, and yet he filled his

country with riches and the love of them, and took away from them the

glory of not admiring money; importing amongst them an abundance of

gold and silver after the Athenian war, though keeping not one

drachma for himself.  When Dionysius, the tyrant, sent his daughters

some costly gowns of Sicilian manufacture, he would not receive them,

saying he was afraid they would make them look more unhandsome.  But

a while after, being sent ambassador from the same city to the same

tyrant, when he had sent him a couple of robes, and bade him choose

which of them he would, and carry to his daughter:  "She," said he,

"will be able to choose best for herself," and taking both of them,

went his way.

The Peloponnesian war having now been carried on a long time, and it

being expected, after the disaster of the Athenians in Sicily, that

they would at once lose the mastery of the sea, and erelong be routed

everywhere, Alcibiades, returning from banishment, and taking the

command, produced a great change, and made the Athenians again a

match for their opponents by sea; and the Lacedaemonians, in great

alarm at this, and calling up fresh courage and zeal for the

conflict, feeling the want of an able commander and of a powerful

armament, sent out Lysander to be admiral of the seas.  Being at

Ephesus, and finding the city well affected towards him, and

favorable to the Lacedaemonian party, but in ill condition, and in

danger to become barbarized by adopting the manners of the Persians,

who were much mingled among them, the country of Lydia bordering upon

them, and the king's generals being quartered there a long time, he

pitched his camp there, and commanded the merchant ships all about to

put in thither, and proceeded to build ships of war there; and thus

restored their ports by the traffic he created, and their market by

the employment he gave, and filled their private houses and their

workshops with wealth, so that from that time, the city began, first

of all, by Lysander's means, to have some hopes of growing to that

stateliness and grandeur which now it is at.

Understanding that Cyrus, the king's son, was come to Sardis, he went

up to talk with him, and to accuse Tisaphernes, who, receiving a

command to help the Lacedaemonians, and to drive the Athenians from

the sea, was thought, on account of Alcibiades, to have become remiss

and unwilling, and by paying the seamen slenderly to be ruining the

fleet.  Now Cyrus was willing that Tisaphernes might be found in

blame, and be ill reported of, as being, indeed, a dishonest man, and

privately at feud with himself.  By these means, and by their daily

intercourse together, Lysander, especially by the submissiveness

of his conversation, won the affections of the young prince, and

greatly roused him to carry on the war; and when he would depart,

Cyrus gave him a banquet, and desired him not to refuse his

good-will, but to speak and ask whatever he had a mind to, and that

he should not be refused anything whatsoever:  "Since you are so

very kind," replied Lysander, "I earnestly request you to add one

penny to the seamen's pay, that instead of three pence, they may now

receive four pence."  Cyrus, delighted with his public spirit, gave

him ten thousand darics, out of which he added the penny to the

seamen's pay, and by the renown of this in a short time emptied the

ships of the enemies, as many would come over to that side which gave

the most pay, and those who remained, being disheartened and

mutinous, daily created trouble to the captains.  Yet for all

Lysander had so distracted and weakened his enemies, he was afraid to

engage by sea, Alcibiades being an energetic commander, and having

the superior number of ships, and having been hitherto, in all

battles, unconquered both by sea and land.

But afterwards, when Alcibiades sailed from Samos to Phocaea, leaving

Antiochus, the pilot, in command of all his forces, this Antiochus,

to insult Lysander, sailed with two galleys into the port of the

Ephesians, and with mocking and laughter proudly rowed along before

the place where the ships lay drawn up.  Lysander, in indignation,

launched at first a few ships only and pursued him, but as soon as he

saw the Athenians come to his help, he added some other ships, and,

at last, they fell to a set battle together; and Lysander won the

victory, and taking fifteen of their ships, erected a trophy.  For

this, the people in the city being angry, put Alcibiades out of

command, and finding himself despised by the soldiers in Samos, and

ill spoken of, he sailed from the army into the Chersonese.  And this

battle, although not important in itself, was made remarkable by its

consequences to Alcibiades.

Lysander, meanwhile, inviting to Ephesus such persons in the various

cities as he saw to be bolder and haughtier-spirited than the rest,

proceeded to lay the foundations of that government by bodies of ten,

and those revolutions which afterwards came to pass, stirring up and

urging them to unite in clubs, and apply themselves to public

affairs, since as soon as ever the Athenians should be put down, the

popular governments, he said, should be suppressed, and they should

become supreme in their several countries.  And he made them believe

these things by present deeds, promoting those who were his friends

already to great employments, honors, and offices, and, to gratify

their covetousness, making himself a partner in injustice and

wickedness.  So much so, that all flocked to him, and courted and

desired him, hoping, if he remained in power, that the highest wishes

they could form would all be gratified.  And therefore, from the very

beginning, they could not look pleasantly upon Callicratidas, when he

came to succeed Lysander as admiral; nor, afterwards, when he had

given them experience that he was a most noble and just person, were

they pleased with the manner of his government, and its

straightforward, Dorian, honest character.  They did, indeed, admire

his virtue, as they might the beauty of some hero's image; but their

wishes were for Lysander's zealous and profitable support of the

interests of his friends and partisans, and they shed tears, and were

much disheartened when he sailed from them.  He himself made them yet

more disaffected to Callicratidas; for what remained of the money

which had been given him to pay the navy, he sent back again to

Sardis, bidding them, if they would, apply to Callicratidas himself,

and see how he was able to maintain the soldiers.  And, at the last,

sailing away, he declared to him that he delivered up the fleet in

possession and command of the sea.  But Callicratidas, to expose the

emptiness of these high pretensions, said, "In that case, leave Samos

on the left hand, and, sailing to Miletus, there deliver up the ships

to me; for if we are masters of the sea, we need not fear sailing by

our enemies in Samos."  To which Lysander answering, that not

himself, but he, commanded the ships, sailed to Peloponnesus, leaving

Callicratidas in great perplexity.  For neither had he brought any

money from home with him, nor could he endure to tax the towns or

force them, being in hardship enough.  Therefore, the only course

that was to be taken was to go and beg at the doors of the king's

commanders, as Lysander had done; for which he was most unfit of any

man, being of a generous and great spirit, and one who thought it

more becoming for the Greeks to suffer any damage from one another,

than to flatter and wait at the gates of barbarians, who, indeed, had

gold enough, but nothing else that was commendable.  But being

compelled by necessity, he proceeded to Lydia, and went at once to

Cyrus's house, and sent in word, that Callicratidas, the admiral, was

there to speak with him; one of those who kept the gates replied,

"Cyrus, O stranger, is not now at leisure, for he is drinking."  To

which Callicratidas answered, most innocently, "Very well, I will

wait till he has done his draught."  This time, therefore, they took

him for some clownish fellow, and he withdrew, merely laughed at by

the barbarians; but when, afterwards, he came a second time to the

gate, and was not admitted, he took it hardly and set off for

Ephesus, wishing a great many evils to those who first let themselves

be insulted over by these barbarians, and taught them to be insolent

because of their riches; and added vows to those who were present,

that as soon as ever he came back to Sparta, he would do all he could

to reconcile the Greeks, that they might be formidable to barbarians,

and that they should cease henceforth to need their aid against one

another.  But Callicratidas, who entertained purposes worthy a

Lacedaemonian, and showed himself worthy to compete with the very

best of Greece, for his justice, his greatness of mind and courage,

not long after, having been beaten in a sea-fight at Arginusae, died.

And now affairs going backwards, the associates in the war sent an

embassy to Sparta, requiring Lysander to be their admiral, professing

themselves ready to undertake the business much more zealously, if he

was commander; and Cyrus, also, sent to request the same thing.  But

because they had a law which would not suffer any one to be admiral

twice, and wished, nevertheless, to gratify their allies, they gave

the title of admiral to one Aracus, and sent Lysander nominally as

vice-admiral, but, indeed, with full powers.  So he came out, long

wished for by the greatest part of the chief persons and leaders in

the towns, who hoped to grow to greater power still by his means,

when the popular governments should be everywhere destroyed.

But to those who loved honest and noble behavior in their commanders,

Lysander, compared with Callicratidas, seemed cunning and subtle,

managing most things in the war by deceit, extolling what was just

when it was profitable, and when it was not, using that which was

convenient, instead of that which was good; and not judging truth to

be in nature better than falsehood, but setting a value upon both

according to interest.  He would laugh at those who thought that

Hercules's posterity ought not to use deceit in war:  "For where the

lion's skin will not reach, you must patch it out with the fox's."

Such is the conduct recorded of him in the business about Miletus;

for when his friends and connections, whom he had promised to assist

in suppressing popular government and expelling their political

opponents, had altered their minds, and were reconciled to their

enemies, he pretended openly as if he was pleased with it, and was

desirous to further the reconciliation, but privately he railed at

and abused them, and provoked them to set upon the multitude.  And as

soon as ever he perceived a new attempt to be commencing, he at once

came up and entered into the city, and the first of the conspirators

he lit upon, he pretended to rebuke, and spoke roughly, as if he

would punish them; but the others, meantime, he bade be courageous,

and to fear nothing now he was with them.  And all this acting and

dissembling was with the object that the most considerable men of the

popular party might not fly away, but might stay in the city and be

killed; which so fell out, for all who believed him were put to

death.

There is a saying, also, recorded by Androclides, which makes him

guilty of great indifference to the obligations of an oath.  His

recommendation, according to this account, was to "cheat boys with

dice, and men with oaths," an imitation of Polycrates of Samos, not

very honorable to a lawful commander, to take example, namely, from a

tyrant; nor in character with Laconian usages, to treat gods as ill

as enemies, or, indeed, even more injuriously; since he who

overreaches by an oath admits that he fears his enemy, while he

despises his God.

Cyrus now sent for Lysander to Sardis, and gave him some money, and

promised him some more, youthfully protesting in favor to him, that

if his father gave him nothing, he would supply him of his own; and

if he himself should be destitute of all, he would cut up, he said,

to make money, the very throne upon which he sat to do justice, it

being made of gold and silver; and, at last, on going up into Media

to his father, he ordered that he should receive the tribute of the

towns, and committed his government to him, and so taking his leave,

and desiring him not to fight by sea before he returned, for he would

come back with a great many ships out of Phoenicia and Cilicia,

departed to visit the king.

Lysander's ships were too few for him to venture to fight, and yet

too many to allow of his remaining idle; he set out, therefore, and

reduced some of the islands, and wasted Aegina and Salamis; and from

thence landing in Attica, and saluting Agis, who came from Decelea to

meet him, he made a display to the land-forces of the strength of the

fleet, as though he could sail where he pleased, and were absolute

master by sea.  But hearing the Athenians pursued him, he fled

another way through the islands into Asia.  And finding the

Hellespont without any defense, he attacked Lampsacus with his ships

by sea; while Thorax, acting in concert with him with the land army,

made an assault on the walls; and so, having taken the city by storm,

he gave it up to his soldiers to plunder.  The fleet of the

Athenians, a hundred and eighty ships, had just arrived at Elaeus in

the Chersonese; and hearing the news, that Lampsacus was destroyed,

they presently sailed to Sestos; where, taking in victuals, they

advanced to Aegos Potami, over against their enemies, who were still

stationed about Lampsacus.  Amongst other Athenian captains who were

now in command was Philocles, he who persuaded the people to pass a

decree to cut off the right thumb of the captives in the war, that

they should not be able to hold the spear, though they might the oar.

Then they all rested themselves, hoping they should have battle the

next morning.  But Lysander had other things in his head; he

commanded the mariners and pilots to go on board at dawn, as if there

should be a battle as soon as it was day, and to sit there in order,

and without any noise, expecting what should be commanded, and in

like manner that the land army should remain quietly in their ranks

by the sea.  But the sun rising, and the Athenians sailing up with

their whole fleet in line, and challenging them to battle, he, though

he had had his ships all drawn up and manned before daybreak,

nevertheless did not stir.  He merely sent some small boats to those

who lay foremost, and bade them keep still and stay in their order;

not to be disturbed, and none of them to sail out and offer battle.

So about evening, the Athenians sailing back, he would not let the

seamen go out of the ships before two or three, which he had sent to

espy, were returned, after seeing the enemies disembark.  And thus

they did the next day, and the third, and so to the fourth.  So that

the Athenians grew extremely confident, and disdained their enemies,

as if they had been afraid and daunted.  At this time, Alcibiades,

who was in his castle in the Chersonese, came on horseback to the

Athenian army, and found fault with their captains, first of all that

they had pitched their camp neither well nor safely, on an exposed

and open beach, a very bad landing for the ships, and, secondly, that

where they were, they had to fetch all they wanted from Sestos, some

considerable way off; whereas if they sailed round a little way to

the town and harbor of Sestos, they would be at a safer distance from

an enemy, who lay watching their movements, at the command of a

single general, terror of whom made every order rapidly executed.

This advice, however, they would not listen to; and Tydeus angered

disdainfully, that not he, but others, were in office now.  So

Alcibiades, who even suspected there must be treachery, departed.

But on the fifth day, the Athenians having sailed towards them, and

gone back again as they were used to do, very proudly and full of

contempt, Lysander sending some ships, as usual, to look out,

commanded the masters of them that when they saw the Athenians go to

land, they should row back again with all their speed, and that when

they were about half-way across, they should lift up a brazen shield

from the foredeck, as the sign of battle.  And he himself sailing

round, encouraged the pilots and masters of the ships, and exhorted

them to keep all their men to their places, seamen and soldiers

alike, and as soon as ever the sign should be given, to row up boldly

to their enemies.  Accordingly when the shield had been lifted up

from the ships, and the trumpet from the admiral's vessel had sounded

for battle, the ships rowed up, and the foot soldiers strove to get

along by the shore to the promontory.  The distance there between the

two continents is fifteen furlongs, which, by the zeal and eagerness

of the rowers, was quickly traversed.  Conon, one of the Athenian

commanders, was the first who saw from the land the fleet advancing,

and shouted out to embark, and in the greatest distress bade some and

entreated others, and some he forced to man the ships.  But all his

diligence signified nothing, because the men were scattered about;

for as soon as they came out of the ships, expecting no such matter,

some went to market, others walked about the country, or went to

sleep in their tents, or got their dinners ready, being, through

their commanders' want of skill, as far as possible from any thought

of what was to happen; and the enemy now coming up with shouts and

noise, Conon, with eight ships, sailed out, and making his escape,

passed from thence to Cyprus, to Evagores.  The Peloponnesians

falling upon the rest, some they took quite empty, and some they

destroyed while they were filling; the men, meantime, coming unarmed

and scattered to help, died at their ships, or, flying by land, were

slain, their enemies disembarking and pursuing them.  Lysander took

three thousand prisoners, with the generals, and the whole fleet,

excepting the sacred ship Paralus, and those which fled with Conon.

So taking their ships in tow, and having plundered their tents, with

pipe and songs of victory, he sailed back to Lampsacus, having

accomplished a great work with small pains, and having finished in

one hour, a war which had been protracted in its continuance, and

diversified in its incidents and its fortunes to a degree exceeding

belief, compared with all before it.  After altering its shape and

character a thousand times, and after having been the destruction of

more commanders than all the previous wars of Greece put together, it

was now put an end to by the good counsel and ready conduct of one

man.

Some, therefore, looked upon the result as a divine intervention, and

there were certain who affirmed that the stars of Castor and Pollux

were seen on each side of Lysander's ship, when he first set sail

from the haven toward his enemies, shining about the helm; and some

say the stone which fell down was a sign of this slaughter.  For a

stone of a great size did fall, according to the common belief, from

heaven, at Aegos Potami, which is shown to this day, and had in great

esteem by the Chersonites.  And it is said that Anaxagoras foretold,

that the occurrence of a slip or shake among the bodies fixed in the

heavens, dislodging any one of them, would be followed by the fall of

the whole of them.  For no one of the stars is now in the same place

in which it was at first; for they, being, according to him, like

stones and heavy, shine by the refraction of the upper air round

about them, and are carried along forcibly by the violence of the

circular motion by which they were originally withheld from

falling, when cold and heavy bodies were first separated from the

general universe.  But there is a more probable opinion than this

maintained by some, who say that falling stars are no effluxes, nor

discharges of ethereal fire, extinguished almost at the instant of

its igniting by the lower air; neither are they the sudden combustion

and blazing up of a quantity of the lower air let loose in great

abundance into the upper region; but the heavenly bodies, by a

relaxation of the force of their circular movement, are carried by an

irregular course, not in general into the inhabited part of the

earth, but for the most part into the wide sea; which is the cause of

their not being observed.  Daimachus, in his treatise on Religion.

supports the view of Anaxagoras.  He says, that before this stone

fell, for seventy-five days continually, there was seen in the

heavens a vast fiery body, as if it had been a flaming cloud, not

resting, but carried about with several intricate and broken

movements, so that the flaming pieces, which were broken off by this

commotion and running about, were carried in all directions, shining

as falling stars do.  But when it afterwards came down to the ground

in this district, and the people of the place recovering from their

fear and astonishment came together, there was no fire to be seen,

neither any sign of it; there was only a stone lying, big indeed, but

which bore no proportion, to speak of, to that fiery compass.  It is

manifest that Daimachus needs to have indulgent hearers; but if what

he says be true, he altogether proves those to be wrong who say that

a rock broken off from the top of some mountain, by winds and

tempests, and caught and whirled about like a top, as soon as this

impetus began to slacken and cease, was precipitated and fell to the

ground.  Unless, indeed, we choose to say that the phenomenon which

was observed for so many days was really fire, and that the change in

the atmosphere ensuing on its extinction was attended with violent

winds and agitations, which might be the cause of this stone being

carried off.  The exacter treatment of this subject belongs, however,

to a different kind of writing.

Lysander, after the three thousand Athenians whom he had taken

prisoners were condemned by the commissioners to die, called

Philocles the general, and asked him what punishment he considered

himself to deserve, for having advised the citizens as he had done,

against the Greeks; but he, being nothing cast down at his calamity,

bade him not accuse him of matters of which nobody was a judge, but

to do to him, now he was a conqueror, as he would have suffered, had

he been overcome.  Then washing himself, and putting on a fine cloak,

he led the citizens the way to the slaughter, as Theophrastus writes

in his history.  After this Lysander, sailing about to the various

cities, bade all the Athenians he met go into Athens, declaring that

he would spare none, but kill every man whom he found out of the

city, intending thus to cause immediate famine and scarcity there,

that they might not make the siege laborious to him, having

provisions sufficient to endure it.  And suppressing the popular

governments and all other constitutions, he left one Lacedaemonian

chief officer in every city, with ten rulers to act with him,

selected out of the societies which he had previously formed in the

different towns.  And doing thus as well in the cities of his

enemies, as of his associates, he sailed leisurely on, establishing,

in a manner, for himself supremacy over the whole of Greece.  Neither

did he make choice of rulers by birth or by wealth, but bestowed the

offices on his own friends and partisans, doing everything to please

them, and putting absolute power of reward and punishment into their

hands.  And thus, personally appearing on many occasions of bloodshed

and massacre, and aiding his friends to expel their opponents, he did

not give the Greeks a favorable specimen of the Lacedaemonian

government; and the expression of Theopompus, the comic poet, seemed

but poor, when he compared the Lacedaemonians to tavern women,

because when the Greeks had first tasted the sweet wine of liberty,

they then poured vinegar into the cup; for from the very first it had

a rough and bitter taste, all government by the people being

suppressed by Lysander, and the boldest and least scrupulous of the

oligarchical party selected to rule the cities.

Having spent some little time about these things, and sent some

before to Lacedaemon to tell them he was arriving with two hundred

ships, he united his forces in Attica with those of the two kings

Agis and Pausanias, hoping to take the city without delay.  But when

the Athenians defended themselves, he with his fleet passed again to

Asia, and in like manner destroyed the forms of government in all the

other cities, and placed them under the rule of ten chief persons,

many in every one being killed, and many driven into exile; and in

Samos, he expelled the whole people, and gave their cities to the

exiles whom he brought back.  And the Athenians still possessing

Sestos, he took it from them, and suffered not the Sestians

themselves to dwell in it, but gave the city and country to be

divided out among the pilots and masters of the ships under him;

which was his first act that was disallowed by the Lacedaemonians,

who brought the Sestians back again into their country.  All Greece,

however, rejoiced to see the Aeginetans, by Lysander's aid, now

again, after a long time, receiving back their cities, and the

Melians and Scionaeans restored, while the Athenians were driven out,

and delivered up the cities.

But when he now understood they were in a bad case in the city

because of the famine, he sailed to Piraeus, and reduced the city,

which was compelled to surrender on what conditions he demanded.  One

hears it said by Lacedaemonians that Lysander wrote to the Ephors

thus:  "Athens is taken;" and that these magistrates wrote back to

Lysander, "Taken is enough."  But this saying was invented for its

neatness' sake; for the true decree of the magistrates was on this

manner:  "The government of the Lacedaemonians has made these orders;

pull down the Piraeus and the long walls; quit all the towns, and

keep to your own land; if you do these things, you shall have peace,

if you wish it, restoring also your exiles.  As concerning the number

of the ships, whatsoever there be judged necessary to appoint, that

do."  This scroll of conditions the Athenians accepted, Theramenes,

son of Hagnon, supporting it.  At which time, too, they say that when

Cleomenes, one of the young orators, asked him how he durst act and

speak contrary to Themistocles, delivering up the walls to the

Lacedaemonians, which he had built against the will of the

Lacedaemonians, he said, "O young man, I do nothing contrary to

Themistocles; for he raised these walls for the safety of the

citizens, and we pull them down for their safety; and if walls make a

city happy, then Sparta must be the most wretched of all, as it has

none."

Lysander, as soon as he had taken all the ships except twelve, and

the walls of the Athenians, on the sixteenth day of the month

Munychion, the same on which they had overcome the barbarians at

Salamis, then proceeded to take measures for altering the government.

But the Athenians taking that very unwillingly, and resisting, he

sent to the people and informed them, that he found that the city had

broken the terms, for the walls were standing when the days were past

within which they should have been pulled down.  He should,

therefore, consider their case anew, they having broken their first

articles.  And some state, in fact, the proposal was made in the

congress of the allies, that the Athenians should all be sold as

slaves; on which occasion, Erianthus, the Theban, gave his vote to

pull down the city, and turn the country into sheep-pasture; yet

afterwards, when there was a meeting of the captains together, a man

of Phocis, singing the first chorus in Euripides's Electra, which

begins,

Electra, Agamemnon's child, I come

Unto thy desert home,

they were all melted with compassion, and it seemed to be a cruel

deed to destroy and pull down a city which had been so famous, and

produced such men.

Accordingly Lysander, the Athenians yielding up everything, sent for

a number of flute-women out of the city, and collected together all

that were in the camp, and pulled down the walls, and burnt the ships

to the sound of the flute, the allies being crowned with garlands,

and making merry together, as counting that day the beginning of

their liberty.  He proceeded also at once to alter the government,

placing thirty rulers in the city, and ten in the Piraeus:  he put,

also, a garrison into the Acropolis, and made Callibius, a Spartan,

the governor of it; who afterwards taking up his staff to strike

Autolycus, the athlete, about whom Xenophon wrote his "Banquet," on

his tripping up his heels and throwing him to the ground, Lysander

was not vexed at it, but chid Callibius, telling him he did not know

how to govern freemen.  The thirty rulers, however, to gain

Callibius's favor, a little after killed Autolycus.

Lysander, after this, sails out to Thrace, and what remained of the

public money, and the gifts and crowns which he had himself received,

numbers of people, as might be expected, being anxious to make

presents to a man of such great power, who was, in a manner, the lord

of Greece, he sends to Lacedaemon by Gylippus, who had commanded

formerly in Sicily.  But he, it is reported, unsewed the sacks at the

bottom, took a considerable amount of silver out of every one of

them, and sewed them up again, not knowing there was a writing in

every one stating how much there was.  And coming into Sparta, what

he had thus stolen away he hid under the tiles of his house, and

delivered up the sacks to the magistrates, and showed the seals were

upon them.  But afterwards, on their opening the sacks and counting

it, the quantity of the silver differed from what the writing

expressed; and the matter causing some perplexity to the magistrates,

Gylippus's servant tells them in a riddle, that under the tiles lay

many owls; for, as it seems, the greatest part of the money then

current, bore the Athenian stamp of the owl.  Gylippus having

committed so foul and base a deed, after such great and distinguished

exploits before, removed himself from Lacedaemon.

But the wisest of the Spartans, very much on account of this

occurrence, dreading the influence of money, as being what had

corrupted the greatest citizens, exclaimed against Lysander's

conduct, and declared to the Ephors, that all the silver and gold

should be sent away, as mere "alien mischiefs."  These consulted

about it; and Theopompus says, it was Sciraphidas, but Ephorus, that

it was Phlogidas, who declared they ought not to receive any gold or

silver into the city; but to use their own country coin which was

iron, and was first of all dipped in vinegar when it was red hot,

that it might not be worked up anew, but because of the dipping might

be hard and unpliable.  It was also, of course, very heavy and

troublesome to carry, and a great deal of it in quantity and

weight was but a little in value.  And perhaps all the old money was

so, coin consisting of iron, or in some countries, copper skewers,

whence it comes that we still find a great number of small pieces of

money retain the name of obolus, and the drachma is six of these,

because so much may be grasped in one's hand.  But Lysander's friends

being against it, and endeavoring to keep the money in the city, it

was resolved to bring in this sort of money to be used publicly,

enacting, at the same time, that if anyone was found in possession

of any privately, he should be put to death, as if Lycurgus had

feared the coin, and not the covetousness resulting from it, which

they did not repress by letting no private man keep any, so much as

they encouraged it, by allowing the state to possess it; attaching

thereby a sort of dignity to it, over and above its ordinary utility.

Neither was it possible, that what they saw was so much esteemed

publicly, they should privately despise as unprofitable; and that

everyone should think that thing could be nothing worth for his own

personal use, which was so extremely valued and desired for the use

of the state.  And moral habits, induced by public practices, are far

quicker in making their way into men's private lives, than the

failings and faults of individuals are in infecting the city at

large.  For it is probable that the parts will be rather corrupted by

the whole if that grows bad; while the vices which flow from a part

into the whole, find many correctives and remedies from that which

remains sound.  Terror and the law were now to keep guard over the

citizens' houses, to prevent any money entering into them; but their

minds could no longer be expected to remain superior to the desire of

it, when wealth in general was thus set up to be striven after, as a

high and noble object.  On this point, however, we have given our

censure of the Lacedaemonians in one of our other writings.

Lysander erected out of the spoils brazen statues at Delphi of

himself, and of every one of the masters of the ships, as also

figures of the golden stars of Castor and Pollux, which vanished

before the battle at Leuctra.  In the treasury of Brasidas and the

Acanthians, there was a trireme made of gold and ivory, of two

cubits, which Cyrus sent Lysander in honor of his victory.  But

Alexandrides of Delphi writes in his history, that there was also a

deposit of Lysander's, a talent of silver, and fifty-two minas,

besides eleven staters; a statement not consistent with the generally

received account of his poverty.  And at that time, Lysander, being

in fact of greater power than any Greek before, was yet thought to

show a pride, and to affect a superiority greater even than his power

warranted.  He was the first, as Duris says in his history, among the

Greeks, to whom the cities reared altars as to a god, and sacrificed;

to him were songs of triumph first sung, the beginning of one of

which still remains recorded: —

Great Greece's general from spacious Sparta we

Will celebrate with songs of victory.

And the Samians decreed that their solemnities of Juno should be

called the Lysandria; and out of the poets he had Choerilus always

with him, to extol his achievements in verse; and to Antilochus, who

had made some verses in his commendation, being pleased with them, he

gave a hat full of silver; and when Antimachus of Colophon, and one

Niceratus of Heraclea, competed with each other in a poem on the

deeds of Lysander, he gave the garland to Niceratus; at which

Antimachus, in vexation, suppressed his poem; but Plato, being then a

young man, and admiring Antimachus for his poetry, consoled him for

his defeat by telling him that it is the ignorant who are the

sufferers by ignorance, as truly as the blind by want of sight.

Afterwards, when Aristonus, the musician, who had been a conqueror

six times at the Pythian games, told him as a piece of flattery, that

if he were successful again, he would proclaim himself in the name of

Lysander, "that is," he answered, "as his slave?"

This ambitious temper was indeed only burdensome to the highest

personages and to his equals, but through having so many people

devoted to serve him, an extreme haughtiness and contemptuousness

grew up, together with ambition, in his character.  He observed no

sort of moderation, such as befitted a private man, either in

rewarding or in punishing; the recompense of his friends and guests

was absolute power over cities, and irresponsible authority, and the

only satisfaction of his wrath was the destruction of his enemy;

banishment would not suffice.  As for example, at a later period,

fearing lest the popular leaders of the Milesians should fly, and

desiring also to discover those who lay hid, he swore he would do

them no harm, and on their believing him and coming forth, he

delivered them up to the oligarchical leaders to be slain, being in

all no less than eight hundred.  And, indeed, the slaughter in

general of those of the popular party in the towns exceeded all

computation; as he did not kill only for offenses against himself,

but granted these favors without sparing, and joined in the execution

of them, to gratify the many hatreds, and the much cupidity of his

friends everywhere round about him.  From whence the saying of

Eteocles, the Lacedaemonian, came to be famous, that "Greece could

not have borne two Lysanders."  Theophrastus says, that Archestratus

said the same thing concerning Alcibiades.  But in his case what had

given most offense was a certain licentious and wanton self-will;

Lysander's power was feared and hated because of his unmerciful

disposition.  The Lacedaemonians did not at all concern themselves

for any other accusers; but afterwards, when Pharnabazus, having been

injured by him, he having pillaged and wasted his country, sent some

to Sparta to inform against him, the Ephors taking it very ill, put

one of his friends and fellow-captains, Thorax, to death, taking him

with some silver privately in his possession; and they sent him a

scroll, commanding him to return home.  This scroll is made up thus;

when the Ephors send an admiral or general on his way, they take two

round pieces of wood, both exactly of a length and thickness, and cut

even to one another; they keep one themselves, and the other they

give to the person they send forth; and these pieces of wood they

call Scytales.  When, therefore, they have occasion to communicate

any secret or important matter, making a scroll of parchment long and

narrow like a leathern thong, they roll it about their own staff of

wood, leaving no space void between, but covering the surface of the

staff with the scroll all over.  When they have done this, they write

what they please on the scroll, as it is wrapped about the staff; and

when they have written, they take off the scroll, and send it to the

general without the wood.  He, when he has received it, can read

nothing of the writing, because the words and letters are not

connected, but all broken up; but taking his own staff, he winds the

slip of the scroll about it, so that this folding, restoring all the

parts into the same order that they were in before, and putting what

comes first into connection with what follows, brings the whole

consecutive contents to view round the outside.  And this scroll is

called a staff, after the name of the wood, as a thing measured is by

the name of the measure.

But Lysander, when the staff came to him to the Hellespont, was

troubled, and fearing Pharnabazus's accusations most, made haste to

confer with him, hoping to end the difference by a meeting together.

When they met, he desired him to write another letter to the

magistrates, stating that he had not been wronged, and had no

complaint to prefer.  But he was ignorant that Pharnabazus, as it is

in the proverb, played Cretan against Cretan; for pretending to do

all that was desired, openly he wrote such a letter as Lysander

wanted, but kept by him another, written privately; and when they

came to put on the seals, changed the tablets, which differed not at

all to look upon, and gave him the letter which had been written

privately.  Lysander, accordingly, coming to Lacedaemon, and going,

as the custom is, to the magistrates' office, gave Pharnabazus's

letter to the Ephors, being persuaded that the greatest accusation

against him was now withdrawn; for Pharnabazus was beloved by the

Lacedaemonians, having been the most zealous on their side in the war

of all the king's captains.  But after the magistrates had read the

letter they showed it him, and he understanding now that

Others beside Ulysses deep can be,

Not the one wise man of the world is he,

in extreme confusion, left them at the time.  But a few days after,

meeting the Ephors, he said he must go to the temple of Ammon, and

offer the god the sacrifices which he had vowed in war.  For some

state it as a truth, that when he was besieging the city of Aphytae

in Thrace, Ammon stood by him in his sleep; whereupon raising the

siege, supposing the god had commanded it, he bade the Aphytaeans

sacrifice to Ammon, and resolved to make a journey into Libya to

propitiate the god.  But most were of opinion that the god was but

the presence, and that in reality he was afraid of the Ephors, and

that impatience of the yoke at home, and dislike of living under

authority, made him long for some travel and wandering, like a horse

just brought in from open feeding and pasture to the stable, and put

again to his ordinary work.  For that which Ephorus states to have

been the cause of this traveling about, I shall relate by and by.

And having hardly and with difficulty obtained leave of the

magistrates to depart, he set sail.  But the kings, while he was on

his voyage, considering that keeping, as he did, the cities in

possession by his own friends and partisans, he was in fact their

sovereign and the lord of Greece, took measures for restoring the

power to the people, and for throwing his friends out.  Disturbances

commencing again about these things, and, first of all, the Athenians

from Phyle setting upon their thirty rulers and overpowering them,

Lysander, coming home in haste, persuaded the Lacedaemonians to

support the oligarchies and to put down the popular governments, and

to the thirty in Athens, first of all, they sent a hundred talents

for the war, and Lysander himself, as general, to assist them.  But

the kings envying him, and fearing lest he should take Athens again,

resolved that one of themselves should take the command.  Accordingly

Pausanias went, and in words, indeed, professed as if he had been for

the tyrants against the people, but in reality exerted himself for

peace, that Lysander might not by the means of his friends become

lord of Athens again.  This he brought easily to pass; for,

reconciling the Athenians, and quieting the tumults, he defeated the

ambitious hopes of Lysander, though shortly after, on the Athenians

rebelling again, he was censured for having thus taken, as it were,

the bit out of the mouth of the people, which, being freed from the

oligarchy, would now break out again into affronts and insolence; and

Lysander regained the reputation of a person who employed his command

not in gratification of others, nor for applause, but strictly for

the good of Sparta.

His speech, also, was bold and daunting to such as opposed him.  The

Argives, for example, contended about the bounds of their land, and

thought they brought juster pleas than the Lacedaemonians; holding

out his sword, "He," said Lysander, "that is master of this, brings

the best argument about the bounds of territory."  A man of Megara,

at some conference, taking freedom with him, "This language, my

friend," said he, "should come from a city."  To the Boeotians, who

were acting a doubtful part, he put the question, whether he should

pass through their country with spears upright, or leveled.  After

the revolt of the Corinthians, when, on coming to their walls, he

perceived the Lacedaemonians hesitating to make the assault, and a

hare was seen to leap through the ditch:  "Are you not ashamed," he

said, "to fear an enemy, for whose laziness, the very hares sleep

upon their walls?"

When king Agis died, leaving a brother Agesilaus, and Leotychides,

who was supposed his son, Lysander, being attached to Agesilaus,

persuaded him to lay claim to the kingdom, as being a true descendant

of Hercules; Leotychides lying under the suspicion of being the son

of Alcibiades, who lived privately in familiarity with Timaea, the

wife of Agis, at the time he was a fugitive in Sparta.  Agis, they

say, computing the time, satisfied himself that she could not have

conceived by him, and had hitherto always neglected and manifestly

disowned Leotychides; but now when he was carried sick to Heraea,

being ready to die, what by the importunities of the young man

himself, and of his friends, in the presence of many he declared

Leotychides to be his; and desiring those who were present to bear

witness of this to the Lacedaemonians, died.  They accordingly did so

testify in favor of Leotychides.  And Agesilaus, being otherwise

highly reputed of, and strong in the support of Lysander, was, on the

other hand, prejudiced by Diopithes, a man famous for his knowledge

of oracles, who adduced this prophecy in reference to Agesilaus's

lameness:

Beware, great Sparta, lest there come of thee,

Though sound thyself, an halting sovereignty;

Troubles, both long and unexpected too,

And storms of deadly warfare shall ensue.

When many, therefore, yielded to the oracle, and inclined to

Leotychides, Lysander said that Diopithes did not take the prophecy

rightly; for it was not that the god would be offended if any lame

person ruled over the Lacedaemonians, but that the kingdom would be a

lame one, if bastards and false-born should govern with the posterity

of Hercules.  By this argument, and by his great influence among

them, he prevailed, and Agesilaus was made king.

Immediately, therefore, Lysander spurred him on to make an expedition

into Asia, putting him in hopes that he might destroy the Persians,

and attain the height of greatness.  And he wrote to his friends in

Asia, bidding them request to have Agesilaus appointed to command

them in the war against the barbarians; which they were persuaded to,

and sent ambassadors to Lacedaemon to entreat it.  And this would

seem to be a second favor done Agesilaus by Lysander, not inferior to

his first in obtaining him the kingdom.  But with ambitious natures,

otherwise not ill qualified for command, the feeling of jealousy of

those near them in reputation continually stands in the way of the

performance of noble actions; they make those their rivals in virtue,

whom they ought to use as their helpers to it.  Agesilaus took

Lysander, among the thirty counselors that accompanied him, with

intentions of using him as his especial friend; but when they were

come into Asia, the inhabitants there, to whom he was but little

known, addressed themselves to him but little and seldom; whereas

Lysander, because of their frequent previous intercourse, was visited

and attended by large numbers, by his friends out of observance, and

by others out of fear; and just as in tragedies it not uncommonly is

the case with the actors, the person who represents a messenger or

servant is much taken notice of, and plays the chief part, while he

who wears the crown and scepter is hardly heard to speak, even so was

it about the counselor, he had all the real honors of the government,

and to the king was left the empty name of power.  This

disproportionate ambition ought very likely to have been in some way

softened down, and Lysander should have been reduced to his proper

second place, but wholly to cast off and to insult and affront for

glory's sake, one who was his benefactor and friend, was not worthy

Agesilaus to allow in himself.  For, first of all, he gave him no

opportunity for any action, and never set him in any place of

command; then, for whomsoever he perceived him exerting his interest,

these persons he always sent away with a refusal, and with less

attention than any ordinary suitors, thus silently undoing and

weakening his influence.

Lysander, miscarrying in everything, and perceiving that his

diligence for his friends was but a hindrance to them, forbore to

help them, entreating them that they would not address themselves to,

nor observe him, but that they would speak to the king, and to those

who could be of more service to friends than at present he could

most, on hearing this, forbore to trouble him about their concerns;

but continued their observances to him, waiting upon him in the walks

and places of exercise; at which Agesilaus was more annoyed than

ever, envying him the honor; and, finally, when he gave many of the

officers places of command and the governments of cities, he

appointed Lysander carver at his table, adding, by way of insult to

the Ionians, "Let them go now, and pay their court to my carver."

Upon this, Lysander thought fit to come and speak with him; and a

brief laconic dialogue passed between them as follows:  "Truly, you

know very well, O Agesilaus, how to depress your friends;" "Those

friends," replied he, "who would be greater than myself; but those

who increase my power, it is just should share in it."  "Possibly, O

Agesilaus," answered Lysander, "in all this there may be more said on

your part than done on mine, but I request you, for the sake of

observers from without, to place me in any command under you where

you may judge I shall be the least offensive, and most useful."

Upon this he was sent ambassador to the Hellespont; and though angry

with Agesilaus, yet did not neglect to perform his duty, and having

induced Spithridates the Persian, being offended with Pharnabazus, a

gallant man, and in command of some forces, to revolt, he brought him

to Agesilaus.  He was not, however, employed in any other service,

but having completed his time, returned to Sparta, without honor,

angry with Agesilaus, and hating more than ever the whole Spartan

government, and resolved to delay no longer, but while there was yet

time, to put into execution the plans which he appears some time

before to have concerted for a revolution and change in the

constitution.  These were as follows.  The Heraclidae who joined with

the Dorians, and came into Peloponnesus, became a numerous and

glorious race in Sparta, but not every family belonging to it had the

right of succession in the kingdom, but the kings were chosen out of

two only, called the Eurypontidae and the Agiadae; the rest had no

privilege in the government by their nobility of birth, and the

honors which followed from merit lay open to all who could obtain

them.  Lysander, who was born of one of these families, when he had

risen into great renown for his exploits, and had gained great

friends and power, was vexed to see the city which had increased to

what it was by him, ruled by others not at all better descended than

himself, and formed a design to remove the government from the two

families, and to give it in common to all the Heraclidae; or as some

say, not to the Heraclidae only, but to all the Spartans; that the

reward might not belong to the posterity of Hercules, but to those

who were like Hercules, judging by that personal merit which raised

even him to the honor of the Godhead; and he hoped that when the

kingdom was thus to be competed for, no Spartan would be chosen

before himself.

Accordingly he first attempted and prepared to persuade the citizens

privately, and studied an oration composed to this purpose by Cleon,

the Halicarnassian.  Afterwards perceiving so unexpected and great an

innovation required bolder means of support, he proceeded as it might

be on the stage, to avail himself of machinery, and to try the

effects of divine agency upon his countrymen.  He collected and

arranged for his purpose, answers and oracles from Apollo, not

expecting to get any benefit from Cleon's rhetoric, unless he should

first alarm and overpower the minds of his fellow-citizens by

religious and superstitious terrors, before bringing them to the

consideration of his arguments.  Ephorus relates, after he had

endeavored to corrupt the oracle of Apollo, and had again failed to

persuade the priestesses of Dodona by means of Pherecles, that he

went to Ammon, and discoursed with the guardians of the oracle there,

proffering them a great deal of gold, and that they, taking this ill,

sent some to Sparta to accuse Lysander; and on his acquittal the

Libyans, going away, said, "You will find us, O Spartans, better

judges, when you come to dwell with us in Libya," there being a

certain ancient oracle, that the Lacedaemonians should dwell in

Libya.  But as the whole intrigue and the course of the contrivance

was no ordinary one, nor lightly- undertaken, but depended as it went

on, like some mathematical proposition, on a variety of important

admissions, and proceeded through a series of intricate and difficult

steps to its conclusion, we will go into it at length, following the

account of one who was at once an historian and a philosopher.

There was a woman in Pontus, who professed to be pregnant by Apollo,

which many, as was natural, disbelieved, and many also gave credit

to, and when she had brought forth a man-child, several, not

unimportant persons, took an interest in its rearing and bringing up.

The name given the boy was Silenus, for some reason or other.

Lysander, taking this for the groundwork, frames and devises the rest

himself, making use of not a few, nor these insignificant champions

of his story, who brought the report of the child's birth into credit

without any suspicion.  Another report, also, was procured from

Delphi and circulated in Sparta, that there were some very old

oracles which were kept by the priests in private writings; and they

were not to be meddled with neither was it lawful to read them, till

one in after times should come, descended from Apollo, and, on giving

some known token to the keepers, should take the books in which the

oracles were.  Things being thus ordered beforehand, Silenus, it was

intended, should come and ask for the oracles, as being the child of

Apollo and those priests who were privy to the design, were to

profess to search narrowly into all particulars, and to question him

concerning his birth; and, finally, were to be convinced, and, as to

Apollo's son, to deliver up to him the writings.  Then he, in the

presence of many witnesses, should read amongst other prophecies,

that which was the object of the whole contrivance, relating to the

office of the kings, that it would be better and more desirable to

the Spartans to choose their kings out of the best citizens.  And

now, Silenus being grown up to a youth, and being ready for the

action, Lysander miscarried in his drama through the timidity of one

of his actors, or assistants, who just as he came to the point lost

heart and drew back.  Yet nothing was found out while Lysander lived,

but only after his death.

He died before Agesilaus came back from Asia, being involved, or

perhaps more truly having himself involved Greece, in the Boeotian

war.  For it is stated both ways; and the cause of it some make to be

himself, others the Thebans, and some both together; the Thebans, on

the one hand, being charged with casting away the sacrifices at

Aulis, and that being bribed with the king's money brought by

Androclides and Amphitheus, they had with the object of entangling

the Lacedaemonians in a Grecian war, set upon the Phocians, and

wasted their country; it being said, on the other hand, that Lysander

was angry that the Thebans had preferred a claim to the tenth part of

the spoils of the war, while the rest of the confederates submitted

without complaint; and because they expressed indignation about the

money which Lysander sent to Sparta, but most especially, because

from them the Athenians had obtained the first opportunity of freeing

themselves from the thirty tyrants, whom Lysander had made, and to

support whom the Lacedaemonians issued a decree that political

refugees from Athens might be arrested in whatever country they were

found, and that those who impeded their arrest should be excluded

from the confederacy.  In reply to this the Thebans issued counter

decrees of their own, truly in the spirit and temper of the actions

of Hercules and Bacchus, that every house and city in Boeotia should

be opened to the Athenians who required it, and that he who did not

help a fugitive who was seized, should be fined a talent for damages,

and if any one should bear arms through Boeotia to Attica against the

tyrants, that none of the Thebans should either see or hear of it.

Nor did they pass these humane and truly Greek decrees, without at

the same time making their acts conformable to their words.  For

Thrasybulus and those who with him occupied Phyle, set out upon that

enterprise from Thebes, with arms and money, and secrecy and a point

to start from, provided for them by the Thebans.  Such were the

causes of complaint Lysander had against Thebes.  And being now grown

violent in his temper through the atrabilious tendency which

increased upon him in his old age, he urged the Ephors and persuaded

them to place a garrison in Thebes, and taking the commander's place,

he marched forth with a body of troops.  Pausanias, also, the king,

was sent shortly after with an army.  Now Pausanias, going round by

Cithaeron, was to invade Boeotia; Lysander, meantime, advanced

through Phocis to meet him,

with a numerous body of soldiers.  He took the city of the

Orchomenians, who came over to him of their own accord, and plundered

Lebadea.  He dispatched also letters to Pausanias, ordering him to

move from Plataea to meet him at Haliartus, and that himself would be

at the walls of Haliartus by break of day.  These letters were

brought to the Thebans, the carrier of them falling into the hands of

some Theban scouts.  They, having received aid from Athens, committed

their city to the charge of the Athenian troops, and sallying out

about the first sleep, succeeded in reaching Haliartus a little before

Lysander, and part of them entered into the city.  He, upon this,

first of all resolved, posting his army upon a hill, to stay for

Pausanias; then as the day advanced, not being able to rest, he bade

his men take up their arms, and encouraging the allies, led them in a

column along the road to the walls.  but those Thebans who had

remained outside, taking the city on the left hand, advanced against

the rear of their enemies, by the fountain which is called Cissusa;

here they tell the story that the nurses washed the infant Bacchus

after his birth; the water of it is of a bright wine color, clear,

and most pleasant to drink; and not far off the Cretan storax grows

all about, which the Haliartians adduce in token of Rhadamanthus

having dwelt there, and they show his sepulchre, calling it Alea.

And the monument also of Alcmena is hard by; for there, as they say,

she was buried, having married Rhadamanthus after Amphitryon's death.

But the Thebans inside the city forming in order of battle with the

Haliartians stood still for some time, but on seeing Lysander with a

party of those who were foremost approaching, on a sudden opening the

gates and falling on, they killed him with the soothsayer at his

side, and a few others; for the greater part immediately fled back to

the main force.  But the Thebans not slackening, but closely pursuing

them, the whole body turned to fly towards the hills.  There were one

thousand of them slain; there died, also, of the Thebans three

hundred, who were killed with their enemies, while chasing them into

craggy and difficult places.  These had been under suspicion of

favoring the Lacedaemonians, and in their eagerness to clear

themselves in the eyes of their fellow-citizens, exposed themselves

in the pursuit, and so met their death.  News of the disaster reached

Pausanias as he was on the way from Plataea to Thespiae, and having

set his army in order he came to Haliartus; Thrasybulus, also, came

from Thebes, leading the Athenians.

Pausanias proposing to request the bodies of the dead under truce,

the elders of the Spartans took it ill, and were angry among

themselves, and coming to the king, declared that Lysander should not

be taken away upon any conditions; if they fought it out by arms

about his body, and conquered, then they might bury him; if they were

overcome, it was glorious to die upon the spot with their commander.

When the elders had spoken these things, Pausanias saw it would be a

difficult business to vanquish the Thebans, who had but just been

conquerors; that Lysander's body also lay near the walls, so that it

would be hard for them, though they overcame, to take it away without

a truce; he therefore sent a herald, obtained a truce, and withdrew

his forces, and carrying away the body of Lysander, they buried it in

the first friendly soil they reached on crossing the Boeotian

frontier, in the country of the Panopaeans; where the monument still

stands as you go on the road from Delphi to Chaeronea.  Now the army

quartering there, it is said that a person of Phocis, relating the

battle to one who was not in it, said, the enemies fell upon them

just after Lysander had passed over the Hoplites; surprised at which

a Spartan, a friend of Lysander, asked what Hoplites he meant, for he

did not know the name.  "It was there," answered the Phocian, "that

the enemy killed the first of us; the rivulet by the city is called

Hoplites."  On hearing which the Spartan shed tears and observed, how

impossible it is for any man to avoid his appointed lot; Lysander, it

appears, having received an oracle, as follows: —

Sounding Hoplites see thou bear in mind,

And the earthborn dragon following behind.

Some, however, say that Hoplites does not run by Haliartus, but is a

watercourse near Coronea, falling into the river Philarus, not far

from the town in former times called Hoplias, and now Isomantus.

The man of Haliartus who killed Lysander, by name Neochorus, bore on

his shield the device of a dragon; and this, it was supposed, the

oracle signified.  It is said, also, that at the time of the

Peloponnesian war, the Thebans received an oracle from the sanctuary

of Ismenus, referring at once to the battle at Delium, and to this

which thirty years after took place at Haliartus.  It ran thus: —

Hunting the wolf, observe the utmost bound,

And the hill Orchalides where foxes most are found.

By the words, "the utmost bound," Delium being intended, where

Boeotia touches Attica, and by Orchalides, the hill now called

Alopecus, which lies in the parts of Haliartus towards Helicon.

But such a death befalling Lysander, the Spartans took it so

grievously at the time, that they put the king to a trial for his

life, which he not daring to await, fled to Tegea, and there lived

out his life in the sanctuary of Minerva.  The poverty also of

Lysander being discovered by his death, made his merit more manifest,

since from so much wealth and power, from all the homage of the

cities, and of the Persian kingdom, he had not in the least degree,

so far as money goes, sought any private aggrandizement, as

Theopompus in his history relates, whom anyone may rather give

credit to when he commends, than when he finds fault, as it is more

agreeable to him to blame than to praise.  But subsequently, Ephorus

says, some controversy arising among the allies at Sparta, which made

it necessary to consult the writings which Lysander had kept by him,

Agesilaus came to his house, and finding the book in which the

oration on the Spartan constitution was written at length, to the

effect that the kingdom ought to be taken from the Eurypontidae and

Agiadae, and to be offered in common, and a choice made out of the

best citizens, at first he was eager to make it public, and to show

his countrymen the real character of Lysander.  But Lacratidas, a

wise man, and at that time chief of the Ephors, hindered Agesilaus,

and said, they ought not to dig up Lysander again, but rather to bury

with him a discourse, composed so plausibly and subtlety.  Other

honors, also, were paid him after his death; and amongst these they

imposed a fine upon those who had engaged themselves to marry his

daughters, and then when Lysander was found to be poor, after his

decease, refused them; because when they thought him rich they had

been observant of him, but now his poverty had proved him just and

good, they forsook him.  For there was, it seems, in Sparta, a

punishment for not marrying, for a late, and for a bad marriage; and

to the last penalty those were most especially liable, who sought

alliances with the rich instead of with the good and with their

friends.  Such is the account we have found given of Lysander.

SYLLA

Lucius Cornelius Sylla was descended of a patrician or noble family.

Of his ancestors, Rufinus, it is said, had been consul, and incurred

a disgrace more signal than his distinction.  For being found

possessed of more than ten pounds of silver plate, contrary to the

law, he was for this reason put out of the senate.  His posterity

continued ever after in obscurity, nor had Sylla himself any opulent

parentage.  In his younger days he lived in hired lodgings, at a low

rate, which in after-times was adduced against him as proof that he

had been fortunate above his quality.  When he was boasting and

magnifying himself for his exploits in Libya, a person of noble

station made answer, "And how can you be an honest man, who, since

the death of a father who left you nothing, have become so rich?"

The time in which he lived was no longer an age of pure and upright

manners, but had already declined, and yielded to the appetite for

riches and luxury; yet still, in the general opinion, they who

deserted the hereditary poverty of their family, were as much blamed

as those who had run out a fair patrimonial estate.  And afterwards,

when he had seized the power into his hands, and was putting many to

death, a freedman suspected of having concealed one of the

proscribed, and for that reason sentenced to be thrown down the

Tarpeian rock, in a reproachful way recounted, how they had lived

long together under the same roof, himself for the upper rooms paying

two thousand sesterces, and Sylla for the lower three thousand; so

that the difference between their fortunes then was no more than one

thousand sesterces, equivalent in Attic coin to two hundred and fifty

drachmas.  And thus much of his early fortune.

His general personal appearance may be known by his statues; only his

blue eyes, of themselves extremely keen and glaring, were rendered

all the more forbidding and terrible by the complexion of his face,

in which white was mixed with rough blotches of fiery red.  Hence, it

is said, he was surnamed Sylla, and in allusion to it one of the

scurrilous jesters at Athens made the verse upon him,

Sylla is a mulberry sprinkled o'er with meal.

Nor is it out of place to make use of marks of character like these,

in the case of one who was by nature so addicted to raillery, that in

his youthful obscurer years he would converse freely with players and

professed jesters, and join them in all their low pleasures.  And

when supreme master of all, he was often wont to muster together the

most impudent players and stage-followers of the town, and to drink

and bandy jests with them without regard to his age or the dignity of

his place, and to the prejudice of important affairs that required

his attention.  When he was once at table, it was not in Sylla's

nature to admit of anything that was serious, and whereas at other

times he was a man of business, and austere of countenance, he

underwent all of a sudden, at his first entrance upon wine and

good-fellowship, a total revolution, and was gentle and tractable

with common singers and dancers, and ready to oblige anyone that

spoke with him.  It seems to have been a sort of diseased result of

this laxity, that he was so prone to amorous pleasures, and yielded

without resistance to any temptations of voluptuousness, from which

even ill his old age he could not refrain.  He had a long attachment

for Metrobius, a player.  In his first amours it happened, that he

made court to a common but rich lady, Nicopolis by name, and, what by

the air of his youth, and what by long intimacy, won so far on her

affections, that she rather than he was the lover, and at her death

she bequeathed him her whole property.  He likewise inherited the

estate of a step-mother who loved him as her own son.  By these means

he had pretty well advanced his fortunes.

He was chosen quaestor to Marius in his first consulship, and set

sail with him for Libya, to war upon Jugurtha.  Here, in general, he

gained approbation; and more especially, by closing in dexterously

with an accidental occasion, made a friend of Bocchus, king of

Numidia.  He hospitably entertained the king's ambassadors, on their

escape from some Numidian robbers, and after showing them much

kindness, sent them on their journey with presents, and an escort to

protect them.  Bocchus had long hated and dreaded his son-in-law,

Jugurtha, who had now been worsted in the field and had fled to him

for shelter; and it so happened, he was at this time entertaining a

design to betray him.  He accordingly invited Sylla to come to him,

wishing the seizure and surrender of Jugurtha to be effected rather

through him, than directly by himself.  Sylla, when he had

communicated the business to Marius, and received from him a small

detachment, voluntarily put himself into this imminent danger; and

confiding in a barbarian, who had been unfaithful to his own

relations, to apprehend another man's person, made surrender of his

own.  Bocchus, having both of them now in his power, was necessitated

to betray one or other, and after long debate with himself, at last

resolved on his first design, and gave up Jugurtha into the hands of

Sylla.

For this Marius triumphed, but the glory of the enterprise, which

through people's envy of Marius was ascribed to Sylla, secretly

grieved him.  And the truth is, Sylla himself was by nature

vainglorious, and this being the first time that from a low and

private condition he had risen to esteem amongst the citizens and

tasted of honor, his appetite for distinction carried him to such a

pitch of ostentation, that he had a representation of this action

engraved on a signet ring; which he carried about with him, and made

use of ever after.  The impress was, Bocchus delivering, and Sylla

receiving, Jugurtha.  This touched Marius to the quick; however,

judging Sylla to be beneath his rivalry, he made use of him as

lieutenant, in his second consulship, and in his third, as tribune;

and many considerable services were effected by his means.  When

acting as lieutenant he took Copillus, chief of the Tectosages,

prisoner, and compelled the Marsians, a great and populous nation,

to become friends and confederates of the Romans.

Henceforward, however, Sylla perceiving that Marius bore a jealous

eye over him, and would no longer afford him opportunities of action,

but rather opposed his advance, attached himself to Catulus, Marius's

colleague, a worthy man, but not energetic enough as a general.  And

under this commander, who entrusted him with the highest and most

important commissions, he rose at once to reputation and to power.

He subdued by arms most part of the Alpine barbarians; and when there

was a scarcity in the armies, he took that care upon himself, and

brought in such a store of provisions, as not only to furnish the

soldiers of Catulus with abundance, but likewise to supply Marius.

This, as he writes himself, wounded Marius to the very heart.  So

slight and childish were the first occasions and motives of that

enmity between them, which, passing afterwards through a long course

of civil bloodshed and incurable divisions to find its end in

tyranny, and the confusion of the whole State proved Euripides to

have been truly wise and thoroughly acquainted with the causes of

disorders in the body politic, when he forewarned all men to beware

of Ambition, as of all the higher Powers, the most destructive and

pernicious to her votaries.

Sylla, by this time thinking that the reputation of his arms abroad

was sufficient to entitle him to a part in the civil administration,

he took himself immediately from the camp to the assembly, and

offered himself as a candidate for a praetorship, but failed.  The

fault of this disappointment he wholly ascribes to the populace, who,

knowing his intimacy with king Bocchus, and for that reason

expecting, that if he was made aedile before his praetorship, he

would then show them magnificent hunting-shows and combats between

Libyan wild beasts, chose other praetors, on purpose to force him

into the aedileship.  The vanity of this pretext is sufficiently

disproved by matter-of-fact.  For the year following, partly by

flatteries to the people, and partly by money, he got himself elected

praetor.  Accordingly, once while he was in office, on his angrily

telling Caesar that he should make use of his authority against him,

Caesar answered him with a smile, "You do well to call it your own,

as you bought it."  At the end of his praetorship he was sent over

into Cappadocia, under the presence of reestablishing Ariobarzanes in

his kingdom, but in reality to keep in check the restless movements

of Mithridates, who was gradually procuring himself as vast a new

acquired power and dominion, as was that of his ancient inheritance.

He carried over with him no great forces of his own, but making use

of the cheerful aid of the confederates, succeeded, with considerable

slaughter of the Cappadocians, and yet greater of the Armenian

succors, in expelling Gordius and establishing Ariobarzanes as king.

During his stay on the banks of the Euphrates, there came to him

Orobazus, a Parthian, ambassador from king Arsaces, as yet there

having been no correspondence between the two nations.  And this also

we may lay to the account of Sylla's felicity, that he should be the

first Roman, to whom the Parthians made address for alliance and

friendship.  At the time of which reception, the story is, that

having ordered three chairs of state to be set, one for Ariobarzanes,

one for Orobazus, and a third for himself, he placed himself in the

middle, and so gave audience.  For this the king of Parthia

afterwards put Orobazus to death.  Some people commended Sylla for

his lofty carriage towards the barbarians; others again accused him

of arrogance and unseasonable display.  It is reported, that a

certain Chaldaean, of Orobazus's retinue, looking Sylla wistfully in

the face, and observing carefully the motions of his mind and body,

and forming a judgment of his nature, according to the rules of his

art, said that it was impossible for him not to become the greatest

of men; it was rather a wonder how he could even then abstain from

being head of all.

At his return, Censorinus impeached him of extortion, for having

exacted a vast sum of money from a well-affected and associate

kingdom.  However, Censorinus did not appear at the trial, but

dropped his accusation.  His quarrel, meantime, with Marius began to

break out afresh, receiving new material from the ambition of

Bocchus, who, to please the people of Rome, and gratify Sylla, set up

in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus images bearing trophies, and a

representation in gold of the surrender of Jugurtha to Sylla.  When

Marius, in great anger, attempted to pull them down, and others aided

Sylla, the whole city would have been in tumult and commotion with

this dispute, had not the Social War, which had long lain smoldering

blazed forth at last, and for the present put an end to the quarrel.

In the course of this war, which had many great changes of fortune,

and which, more than any, afflicted the Romans, and, indeed,

endangered the very being of the Commonwealth, Marius was not able to

signalize his valor in any action, but left behind him a clear proof,

that warlike excellence requires a strong and still vigorous body.

Sylla, on the other hand, by his many achievements, gained himself,

with his fellow-citizens, the name of a great commander, while his

friends thought him the greatest of all commanders, and his enemies

called him the most fortunate.  Nor did this make the same sort of

impression on him, as it made on Timotheus the son of Conon, the

Athenian; who, when his adversaries ascribed his successes to his

good luck, and had a painting made, representing him asleep, and

Fortune by his side, casting her nets over the cities, was rough and

violent in his indignation at those who did it, as if by attributing

all to Fortune, they had robbed him of his just honors; and said to

the people on one occasion at his return from war, "In this, ye men

of Athens, Fortune had no part."  A piece of boyish petulance, which

the deity, we are told, played back upon Timotheus; who from that

time was never able to achieve anything that was great, but proving

altogether unfortunate in his attempts, and falling into discredit

with the people, was at last banished the city.  Sylla, on the

contrary, not only accepted with pleasure the credit of such divine

felicities and favors, but joining himself in extolling and

glorifying what was done, gave the honor of all to Fortune, whether

it were out of boastfulness, or a real feeling of divine agency.  He

remarks, in his Memoirs, that of all his well advised actions, none

proved so lucky in the execution, as what he had boldly enterprised,

not by calculation, but upon the moment.  And in the character which

he gives of himself, that he was born for fortune rather than war, he

seems to give Fortune a higher place than merit, and in short, makes

himself entirely the creature of a superior power, accounting even

his concord with Metellus, his equal in office, and his connection by

marriage, a piece of preternatural felicity.  For expecting to have

met in him a most troublesome, he found him a most accommodating

colleague.  Moreover, in the Memoirs which he dedicated to Lucullus,

he admonishes him to esteem nothing more trustworthy, than what the

divine powers advise him by night.  And when he was leaving the city

with an army, to fight in the Social War, he relates, that the earth

near the Laverna opened, and a quantity of fire came rushing out of

it, shooting up with a bright flame into the heavens.  The

soothsayers upon this foretold, that a person of great qualities, and

of a rare and singular aspect, should take the government in hand,

and quiet the present troubles of the city.  Sylla affirms he was the

man, for his golden head of hair made him an extraordinary-looking

man, nor had he any shame, after the great actions he had done, in

testifying to his own great qualities.  And thus much of his opinion

as to divine agency.

In general he would seem to have been of a very irregular character,

full of inconsistencies with himself; much given to rapine, to

prodigality yet more; in promoting or disgracing whom he pleased,

alike unaccountable; cringing to those he stood in need of, and

domineering over others who stood in need of him, so that it was hard

to tell, whether his nature had more in it of pride or of servility.

As to his unequal distribution of punishments, as, for example, that

upon slight grounds he would put to the torture, and again would bear

patiently with the greatest wrongs; would readily forgive and be

reconciled after the most heinous acts of enmity, and yet would visit

small and inconsiderable offenses with death, and confiscation of

goods; one might judge, that in himself he was really of a violent

and revengeful nature, which however he could qualify, upon

reflection, for his interest.  In this very Social War, when the

soldiers with stones and clubs had killed an officer of praetorian

rank, his own lieutenant, Albinus by name, he passed by this flagrant

crime without any inquiry, giving it out moreover in a boast, that

the soldiers would behave all the better now, to make amends, by some

special bravery, for their breach of discipline.  He took no notice

of the clamors of those that cried for justice, but designing already

to supplant Marius, now that he saw the Social War near its end, he

made much of his army, in hopes to get himself declared general of

the forces against Mithridates.

At his return to Rome, he was chosen Consul with Quintus Pompeius, in

the fiftieth year of his age, and made a most distinguished marriage

with Caecilia, daughter of Metellus, the chief priest.  The common

people made a variety of verses in ridicule of the marriage, and many

of the nobility also were disgusted at it, esteeming him, as Livy

writes, unworthy of this connection, whom before they thought worthy

of a consulship.  This was not his only wife, for first, in his

younger days, he was married to Ilia, by whom he had a daughter;

after her to Aelia; and thirdly to Cloelia, whom he dismissed as

barren, but honorably, and with professions of respect, adding,

moreover, presents.  But the match between him and Metella, falling

out a few days after, occasioned suspicions that he had complained of

Cloelia without due cause.  To Metella he always showed great

deference, so much so that the people, when anxious for the recall of

the exiles of Marius's party, upon his refusal, entreated the

intercession of Metella.  And the Athenians, it is thought, had

harder measure, at the capture of their town, because they used

insulting language to Metella in their jests from the walls during

the siege.  But of this hereafter.

At present esteeming the consulship but a small matter in comparison

of things to come, he was impatiently carried away in thought to the

Mithridatic War.  Here he was withstood by Marius; who out of mad

affectation of glory and thirst for distinction, those never dying

passions, though he were now unwieldy in body, and had given up

service, on account of his age, during the late campaigns, still

coveted after command in a distant war beyond the seas.  And whilst

Sylla was departed for the camp, to order the rest of his affairs

there, he sat brooding at home, and at last hatched that execrable

sedition, which wrought Rome more mischief than all her enemies

together had done, as was indeed foreshown by the gods.  For a flame

broke forth of its own accord, from under the staves of the ensigns,

and was with difficulty extinguished.  Three ravens brought their

young into the open road, and ate them, carrying the relics into the

nest again.  Mice having gnawed the consecrated gold in one of the

temples, the keepers caught one of them, a female, in a trap; and she

bringing forth five young ones in the very trap, devoured three of

them.  But what was greatest of all, in a calm and clear sky there

was heard the sound of a trumpet, with such a loud and dismal blast,

as struck terror and amazement into the hearts of the people.  The

Etruscan sages affirmed, that this prodigy betokened the mutation of

the age, and a general revolution in the world.  For according to

them there are in all eight ages, differing one from another in the

lives and the characters of men, and to each of these God has

allotted a certain measure of time, determined by the circuit of the

great year.  And when one age is run out, at the approach of another,

there appears some wonderful sign from earth or heaven, such as makes

it manifest at once to those who have made it their business to study

such things, that there has succeeded in the world a new race of men,

differing in customs and institutes of life, and more or less

regarded by the gods, than the preceding.  Amongst other great

changes that happen, as they say, at the turn of ages, the art of

divination, also, at one time rises in esteem, and is more successful

in its predictions, clearer and surer tokens being sent from God, and

then again, in another generation declines as low, becoming mere

guesswork for the most part, and discerning future events by dim and

uncertain intimations.  This was the mythology of the wisest of the

Tuscan sages, who were thought to possess a knowledge beyond other

men.  Whilst the Senate sat in consultation with the soothsayers,

concerning these prodigies, in the temple of Bellona, a sparrow came

flying in, before them all, with a grasshopper in its mouth, and

letting fall one part of it, flew away with the remainder.  The

diviners foreboded commotions and dissension between the great landed

proprietors and the common city populace; the latter, like the

grasshopper, being loud and talkative; while the sparrow might

represent the "dwellers in the field."

Marius had taken into alliance Sulpicius, the tribune, a man second

to none in any villanies, so that it was less the question what

others he surpassed, but rather in what respects he most surpassed

himself in wickedness.  He was cruel, bold, rapacious, and in all

these points utterly shameless and unscrupulous; not hesitating to

offer Roman citizenship by public sale to freed slaves and aliens,

and to count out the price on public money-tables in the forum.  He

maintained three thousand swordsmen, and had always about him a

company of young men of the equestrian class ready for all occasions,

whom he styled his Anti-Senate.  Having had a law enacted, that no

senator should contract a debt of above two thousand drachmas, he

himself, after death, was found indebted three millions.  This was

the man whom Marius let in upon the Commonwealth, and who,

confounding all things by force and the sword, made several

ordinances of dangerous consequence, and amongst the rest, one giving

Marius the conduct of the Mithridatic war.  Upon this the consuls

proclaimed a public cessation of business, but as they were holding

an assembly near the temple of Castor and Pollux, he let loose the

rabble upon them, and amongst many others slew the consul Pompeius's

young son in the forum, Pompeius himself hardly escaping in the

crowd.  Sylla being closely pursued into the house of Marius, was

forced to come forth and dissolve the cessation; and for his doing

this, Sulpicius, having deposed Pompeius, allowed Sylla to continue

his consulship, only transferring the Mithridatic expedition to

Marius.

There were immediately dispatched to Nola tribunes, to receive the

army, and bring it to Marius; but Sylla having got first to the camp,

and the soldiers, upon hearing of the news, having stoned the

tribunes, Marius, in requital, proceeded to put the friends of Sylla

in the city to the sword, and rifled their goods.  Every kind of

removal and flight went on, some hastening from the camp to the city,

others from the city to the camp.  The senate, no more in its own

power, but wholly governed by the dictates of Marius and Sulpicius,

alarmed at the report of Sylla's advancing with his troops towards

the city, sent forth two of the praetors, Brutus and Servilius, to

forbid his nearer approach.  The soldiers would have slain these

praetors in a fury, for their bold language to Sylla; contenting

themselves, however, with breaking their rods, and tearing off their

purple-edged robes, after much contumelious usage they sent them

back, to the sad dejection of the citizens, who beheld their

magistrates despoiled of their badges of office, and announcing to

them, that things were now manifestly come to a rupture past all

cure.  Marius put himself in readiness, and Sylla with his colleague

moved from Nola, at the head of six complete legions, all of them

willing to march up directly against the city, though he himself as

yet was doubtful in thought, and apprehensive of the danger.  As he

was sacrificing, Postumius the soothsayer, having inspected the

entrails, stretching forth both hands to Sylla, required to be bound

and kept in custody till the battle was over, as willing, if they had

not speedy and complete success, to suffer the utmost punishment.  It

is said, also, that there appeared to Sylla himself in a dream, a

certain goddess, whom the Romans learnt to worship from the

Cappadocians, whether it be the Moon, or Pallas, or Bellona.  This

same goddess, to his thinking, stood by him, and put into his hand

thunder and lightning, then naming his enemies one by one, bade him

strike them, who, all of them, fell on the discharge and disappeared.

Encouraged by this vision, and relating it to his colleague, next day

he led on towards Rome.  About Picinae being met by a deputation,

beseeching him not to attack at once, in the heat of a march, for

that the senate had decreed to do him all the right imaginable, he

consented to halt on the spot, and sent his officers to measure out

the ground, as is usual, for a camp; so that the deputation,

believing it, returned.  They were no sooner gone, but he sent a

party on under the command of Lucius Basillus and Caius Mummius, to

secure the city gate, and the walls on the side of the Esquiline

hill, and then close at their heels followed himself with all speed.

Basillus made his way successfully into the city, but the unarmed

multitude, pelting him with stones and tiles from off the houses,

stopped his further progress, and beat him back to the wall.  Sylla

by this time was come up, and seeing what was going on, called aloud

to his men to set fire to the houses, and taking a flaming torch, he

himself led the way, and commanded the archers to make use of their

fire-darts, letting fly at the tops of houses; all which he did, not

upon any plan, but simply in his fury, yielding the conduct of that

day's work to passion, and as if all he saw were enemies, without

respect or pity either to friend, relations, or acquaintance, made

his entry by fire, which knows no distinction betwixt friend or foe.

In this conflict, Marius being driven into the temple of

Mother-Earth, thence invited the slaves by proclamation of freedom,

but the enemy coming on he was overpowered and fled the city.

Sylla having called a senate, had sentence of death passed on Marius,

and some few others, amongst whom was Sulpicius, tribune of the

people.  Sulpicius was killed, being betrayed by his servant, whom

Sylla first made free, and then threw him headlong down the Tarpeian

rock.  As for Marius, he set a price on his life, by proclamation,

neither gratefully nor politicly, if we consider into whose house,

not long before he put himself at mercy, and was safely dismissed.

Had Marius at that time not let Sylla go, but suffered him to be

slain by the hands of Sulpicius, he might have been lord of all;

nevertheless he spared his life, and a few days after, when in a

similar position himself, received a different measure.

By these proceedings, Sylla excited the secret distaste of the

senate; but the displeasure and free indignation of the commonalty

showed itself plainly by their actions.  For they ignominiously

rejected Nonius, his nephew, and Servius, who stood for offices of

state by his interest, and elected others as magistrates, by honoring

whom they thought they should most annoy him.  He made semblance of

extreme satisfaction at all this, as if the people by his means had

again enjoyed the liberty of doing what seemed best to them.  And to

pacify the public hostility, he created Lucius Cinna consul, one of

the adverse party, having first bound him under oaths and

imprecations to be favorable to his interest.  For Cinna, ascending

the capitol with a stone in his hand, swore solemnly, and prayed with

direful curses, that he himself, if he were not true to his

friendship with Sylla, might be cast out of the city, as that stone

out of his hand; and thereupon cast the stone to the ground, in the

presence of many people.  Nevertheless Cinna had no sooner entered on

his charge, but he took measures to disturb the present settlement,

and having prepared an impeachment against Sylla, got Virginius, one

of the tribunes of the people, to be his accuser; but Sylla, leaving

him and the court of judicature to themselves, set forth against

Mithridates.

About the time that Sylla was making ready to put oft with his forces

from Italy, besides many other omens which befell Mithridates, then

staying at Pergamus, there goes a story that a figure of Victory,

with a crown in her hand, which the Pergamenians by machinery from

above let down on him, when it had almost reached his head, fell to

pieces, and the crown tumbling down into the midst of the theater,

there broke against the ground, occasioning a general alarm among the

populace, and considerably disquieting Mithridates himself, although

his affairs at that time were succeeding beyond expectation.  For

having wrested Asia from the Romans, and Bithynia and Cappadocia

from their kings, he made Pergamus his royal seat, distributing among

his friends riches, principalities, and kingdoms.  Of his sons, one

residing in Pontus and Bosporus held his ancient realm as far as the

deserts beyond the lake Maeotis, without molestation; while

Ariarathes, another, was reducing Thrace and Macedon, with a great

army, to obedience.  His generals, with forces under them, were

establishing his supremacy in other quarters.  Archelaus, in

particular, with his fleet, held absolute mastery of the sea, and was

bringing into subjection the Cyclades, and all the other islands as

far as Malea, and had taken Euboea itself.  Making Athens his

head-quarters, from thence as far as Thessaly he was withdrawing the

States of Greece from the Roman allegiance, without the least ill

success, except at Chaeronea.  For here Bruttius Sura, lieutenant to

Sentius, governor of Macedon, a man of singular valor and prudence,

met him, and, though he came like a torrent pouring over Boeotia,

made stout resistance, and thrice giving him battle near Chaeronea,

repulsed and forced him back to the sea.  But being commanded by

Lucius Lucullus to give place to his successor, Sylla, and resign the

war to whom it was decreed, he presently left Boeotia, and retired

back to Sentius, although his success had outgone all hopes, and

Greece was well disposed to a new revolution, upon account of his

gallant behavior.  These were the glorious actions of Bruttius.

Sylla, on his arrival, received by their deputations the compliments

of all the cities of Greece, except Athens, against which, as it was

compelled by the tyrant Aristion to hold for the king, he advanced

with all his forces, and investing the Piraeus, laid formal siege to

it, employing every variety of engines, and trying every manner of

assault; whereas, had he forbore but a little while, he might without

hazard have taken the Upper City by famine, it being already reduced

to the last extremity, through want of necessaries.  But eager to

return to Rome, and fearing innovation there, at great risk, with

continual fighting and vast expense, he pushed on the war.  Besides

other equipage, the very work about the engines of battery was

supplied with no less than ten thousand yoke of mules, employed daily

in that service.  And when timber grew scarce, for many of the works

failed, some crushed to pieces by their own weight, others taking

fire by the continual play of the enemy, he had recourse to the

sacred groves, and cut down the trees of the Academy, the shadiest of

all the suburbs, and the Lyceum.  And a vast sum of money being

wanted to carry on the war, he broke into the sanctuaries of Greece,

that of Epidaurus and that of Olympia, sending for the most beautiful

and precious offerings deposited there.  He wrote, likewise, to the

Amphictyons, at Delphi, that it were better to remit the wealth of

the god to him, for that he would keep it more securely, or in case

he made use of it, restore as much.  He sent Caphis, the Phocian, one

of his friends, with this message, commanding him to receive each

item by weight.  Caphis came to Delphi, but was loath to touch the

holy things, and with many tears, in the presence of the Amphyctyons,

bewailed the necessity.  And on some of them declaring they heard the

sound of a harp from the inner shrine, he, whether he himself

believed it, or was willing to try the effect of religious fear upon

Sylla, sent back an express.  To which Sylla replied in a scoffing

way, that it was surprising to him that Caphis did not know that

music was a sign of joy, not anger; he should, therefore, go on

boldly, and accept what a gracious and bountiful god offered.

Other things were sent away without much notice on the part of the

Greeks in general, but in the case of the silver tun, that only relic

of the regal donations, which its weight and bulk made it impossible

for any carriage to receive, the Amphictyons were forced to cut it

into pieces, and called to mind in so doing, how Titus Flamininus,

and Manius Acilius, and again Paulus Aemilius, one of whom drove

Antiochus out of Greece, and the others subdued the Macedonian kings,

had not only abstained from violating the Greek temples, but had even

given them new gifts and honors, and increased the general veneration

for them.  They, indeed, the lawful commanders of temperate and

obedient soldiers, and themselves great in soul, and simple in

expenses, lived within the bounds of the ordinary established

charges, accounting it a greater disgrace to seek popularity with

their men, than to feel fear of their enemy.  Whereas the commanders

of these times, attaining to superiority by force, not worth, and

having need of arms one against another, rather than against the

public enemy, were constrained to temporize in authority, and in

order to pay for the gratifications with which they purchased the

labor of their soldiers, were driven, before they knew it, to sell

the commonwealth itself, and, to gain the mastery over men better

than themselves, were content to become slaves to the vilest of

wretches.  These practices drove Marius into exile, and again brought

him in against Sylla.  These made Cinna the assassin of Octavius, and

Fimbria of Flaccus.  To which courses Sylla contributed not the

least; for to corrupt and win over those who were under the command

of others, he would be munificent and profuse towards those who were

under his own; and so, while tempting the soldiers of other generals

to treachery, and his own to dissolute living, he was naturally in

want of a large treasury, and especially during that siege.

Sylla had a vehement and an implacable desire to conquer Athens,

whether out of emulation, fighting as it were against the shadow of

the once famous city, or out of anger, at the foul words and

scurrilous jests with which the tyrant Aristion, showing himself

daily, with unseemly gesticulations, upon the walls, had provoked him

and Metella.

The tyrant Aristion had his very being compounded of wantonness and

cruelty, having gathered into himself all the worst of Mithridates's

diseased and vicious qualities, like some fatal malady which the

city, after its deliverance from innumerable wars, many tyrannies and

seditions, was in its last days destined to endure.  At the time when

a medimnus of wheat was sold in the city for one thousand drachmas,

and men were forced to live on the feverfew growing round the

citadel, and to boil down shoes and oil-bags for their food, he,

carousing and feasting in the open face of day, then dancing in

armor, and making jokes at the enemy, suffered the holy lamp of the

goddess to expire for want of oil, and to the chief priestess, who

demanded of him the twelfth part of a medimnus of wheat, he sent the

like quantity of pepper.  The senators and priests, who came as

suppliants to beg of him to take compassion on the city, and treat

for peace with Sylla, he drove away and dispersed with a flight of

arrows.  At last, with much ado, he sent forth two or three of his

reveling companions to parley, to whom Sylla, perceiving that they

made no serious overtures towards an accommodation, but went on

haranguing in praise of Theseus, Eumolpus, and the Median trophies,

replied, "My good friends, you may put up your speeches and be gone.

I was sent by the Romans to Athens, not to take lessons, but to

reduce rebels to obedience."

In the meantime news came to Sylla that some old men, talking in the

Ceramicus, had been overheard to blame the tyrant for not securing

the passages and approaches near the Heptachalcum, the one point

where the enemy might easily get over.  Sylla neglected not the

report, but going in the night, and discovering the place to be

assailable, set instantly to work.  Sylla himself makes mention in

his Memoirs, that Marcus Teius, the first man who scaled the wall,

meeting with an adversary, and striking him on the headpiece a home

stroke, broke his own sword, but, notwithstanding, did not give

ground, but stood and held him fast.  The city was certainly taken

from that quarter, according to the tradition of the oldest of the

Athenians.

When they had thrown down the wall, and made all level betwixt the

Piraic and Sacred Gate, about midnight Sylla entered the breach, with

all the terrors of trumpets and cornets sounding, with the triumphant

shout and cry of an army let loose to spoil and slaughter, and

scouring through the streets with swords drawn.  There was no

numbering the slain; the amount is to this day conjectured only from

the space of ground overflowed with blood.  For without mentioning

the execution done in other quarters of the city, the blood that was

shed about the marketplace spread over the whole Ceramicus within the

Double-gate, and, according to most writers, passed through the gate

and overflowed the suburb.  Nor did the multitudes which fell thus

exceed the number of those, who, out of pity and love for their

country, which they believed was now finally to perish, slew

themselves; the best of them, through despair of their country's

surviving, dreading themselves to survive, expecting neither humanity

nor moderation in Sylla.  At length, partly at the instance of Midias

and Calliphon, two exiled men, beseeching and casting themselves at

his feet, partly by the intercession of those senators who followed

the camp, having had his fill of revenge, and making some honorable

mention of the ancient Athenians, "I forgive," said he, "the many for

the sake of the few, the living for the dead."  He took Athens,

according to his own Memoirs, on the calends of March, coinciding

pretty nearly with the new moon of Anthesterion, on which day it is

the Athenian usage to perform various acts in commemoration of the

ruins and devastations occasioned by the deluge, that being supposed

to be the time of its occurrence.

At the taking of the town, the tyrant fled into the citadel, and was

there besieged by Curio, who had that charge given him.  He held out

a considerable time, but at last yielded himself up for want of

water, and divine power immediately intimated its agency in the

matter.  For on the same day and hour that Curio conducted him down,

the clouds gathered in a clear sky, and there came down a great

quantity of rain and filled the citadel with water.

Not long after, Sylla won the Piraeus, and burnt most of it; amongst

the rest, Philo's arsenal, a work very greatly admired.

In the mean time Taxiles, Mithridates's general, coming down from

Thrace and Macedon, with an army of one hundred thousand foot, ten

thousand horse, and ninety chariots, armed with scythes at the

wheels, would have joined Archelaus, who lay with a navy on the coast

near Munychia, reluctant to quit the sea, and yet unwilling to engage

the Romans in battle, but desiring to protract the war and cut off

the enemy's supplies.  Which Sylla perceiving much better than

himself, passed with his forces into Boeotia, quitting a barren

district which was inadequate to maintain an army even in time of

peace.  He was thought by some to have taken false measures in thus

leaving Attica, a rugged country, and ill suited for cavalry to move

in, and entering the plain and open fields of Boeotia, knowing as he

did the barbarian strength to consist most in horses and chariots.

But as was said before, to avoid famine and scarcity, he was forced

to run the risk of a battle.  Moreover he was in anxiety for

Hortensius, a bold and active officer, whom on his way to Sylla with

forces from Thessaly, the barbarians awaited in the straits. For

these reasons Sylla drew off into Boeotia.  Hortensius, meantime, was

conducted by Caphis, our countryman, another way unknown to the

barbarians, by Parnassus, just under Tithora, which was then not so

large a town as it is now, but a mere fort, surrounded by steep

precipices, whither the Phocians also, in old time, when flying from

the invasion of Xerxes, carried themselves and their goods and were

saved.  Hortensius, encamping here, kept off the enemy by day, and at

night descending by difficult passages to Patronis, joined the forces

of Sylla, who came to meet him.  Thus united they posted themselves

on a fertile hill in the middle of the plain of Elatea, shaded with

trees and watered at the foot.  It is called Philoboeotus, and its

situation and natural advantages are spoken of with great admiration

by Sylla.

As they lay thus encamped, they seemed to the enemy a contemptible

number, for they were not above fifteen hundred horse, and less than

fifteen thousand foot.  Therefore the rest of the commanders,

overpersuading Archelaus, and drawing up the army, covered the plain

with horses, chariots, bucklers, targets.  The clamor and cries of so

many nations forming for battle rent the air, nor was the pomp and

ostentation of their costly array altogether idle and unserviceable

for terror; for the brightness of their armor, embellished

magnificently with gold and silver, and the rich colors of their

Median and Scythian coats, intermixed with brass and shining steel,

presented a flaming and terrible sight as they swayed about and moved

in their ranks, so much so that the Romans shrunk within their

trenches, and Sylla, unable by any arguments to remove their fear,

and unwilling to force them to fight against their wills, was fain to

sit down in quiet, ill-brooking to become the subject of barbarian

insolence and laughter.  This, however, above all advantaged him, for

the enemy, from contemning of him, fell into disorder amongst

themselves, being already less thoroughly under command, on account

of the number of their leaders.  Some few of them remained within the

encampment, but others, the major part, lured out with hopes of prey

and rapine, strayed about the country many days journey from the

camp, and are related to have destroyed the city of Panope, to have

plundered Lebadea, and robbed the oracle without any orders from

their commanders.

Sylla, all this while, chafing and fretting to see the cities all

around destroyed, suffered not the soldiery to remain idle, but

leading them out, compelled them to divert the Cephisus from its

ancient channel by casting up ditches, and giving respite to none,

showed himself rigorous in punishing the remiss, that growing weary

of labor, they might be induced by hardship to embrace danger.  Which

fell out accordingly, for on the third day, being hard at work as

Sylla passed by, they begged and clamored to be led against the

enemy.  Sylla replied, that this demand of war proceeded rather from

a backwardness to labor than any forwardness to fight, but if they

were in good earnest martially inclined, he bade them take their arms

and get up thither, pointing to the ancient citadel of the

Parapotamians, of which at present, the city being laid waste, there

remained only the rocky hill itself, steep and craggy on all sides,

and severed from Mount Hedylium by the breadth of the river Assus,

which running between, and at the bottom of the same hill falling

into the Cephisus with an impetuous confluence, makes this eminence a

strong position for soldiers to occupy.  Observing that the enemy's

division, called the Brazen Shields, were making their way up

thither, Sylla was willing to take first possession, and by the

vigorous efforts of the soldiers, succeeded.  Archelaus, driven from

hence, bent his forces upon Chaeronea.  The Chaeroneans who bore arms

in the Roman camp beseeching Sylla not to abandon the city, he

dispatched Gabinius, a tribune, with one legion, and sent out also

the Chaeroneans, who endeavored, but were not able to get in before

Gabinius; so active was he, and more zealous to bring relief than

those who had entreated it.  Juba writes that Ericius was the man

sent, not Gabinius.  Thus narrowly did our native city escape.

From Lebadea and the cave of Trophonius there came favorable rumors

and prophecies of victory to the Romans, of which the inhabitants of

those places give a fuller account, but as Sylla himself affirms in

the tenth book of his Memoirs, Quintus Titius, a man of some repute

among the Romans who were engaged in mercantile business in Greece,

came to him after the battle won at Chaeronea, and declared that

Trophonius had foretold another fight and victory on the same place,

within a short time.  After him a soldier, by name Salvenius, brought

an account from the god of the future issue of affairs in Italy.  As

to the vision, they both agreed in this, that they had seen one who

in stature and in majesty was similar to Jupiter Olympius.

Sylla, when he had passed over the Assus, marching under the Mount

Hedylium, encamped close to Archelaus, who had entrenched himself

strongly between the mountains Acontium and Hedylium, close to what

are called the Assia.  The place of his entrenchment is to this day

named from him, Archelaus.  Sylla, after one day's respite, having

left Murena behind him with one legion and two cohorts to amuse the

enemy with continual alarms, himself went and sacrificed on the banks

of Cephisus, and the holy rites ended, held on towards Chaeronea to

receive the forces there and view Mount Thurium, where a party of the

enemy had posted themselves.  This is a craggy height running up in a

conical form to a point, called by us Orthopagus; at the foot of it

is the river Morius and the temple of Apollo Thurius.  The god had

his surname from Thuro, mother of Chaeron, whom ancient record makes

founder of Chaeronea.  Others assert that the cow which Apollo gave to

Cadmus for a guide appeared there, and that the place took its name

from the beast, Thor being the Phoenician word for a cow.

At Sylla's approach to Chaeronea, the tribune who had been appointed

to guard the city led out his men in arms, and met him with a garland

of laurel in his hand; which Sylla accepting, and at the same time

saluting the soldiers and animating them to the encounter, two men of

Chaeronea, Homoloichus and Anaxidamus, presented themselves before

him, and offered, with a small party, to dislodge those who were

posted on Thurium.  For there lay a path out of sight of the

barbarians, from what is called Petrochus along by the Museum,

leading right down from above upon Thurium.  By this way it was easy

to fall upon them and either stone them from above, or force them

down into the plain.  Sylla, assured of their faith and courage by

Gabinius, bade them proceed with the enterprise, and meantime drew up

the army, and disposing the cavalry on both wings, himself took

command of the right; the left being committed to the direction of

Murena.  In the rear of all, Galba and Hortensius, his lieutenants,

planted themselves on the upper grounds with the cohorts of reserve,

to watch the motions of the enemy, who with numbers of horse and

swift-footed, light-armed infantry, were noticed to have so formed

their wing as to allow it readily to change about and alter its

position, and thus gave reason for suspecting that they intended to

carry it far out and so to enclose the Romans.

In the meanwhile, the Chaeroneans, who had Ericius for commander by

appointment of Sylla, covertly making their way around Thurium, and

then discovering themselves, occasioned a great confusion and rout

amongst the barbarians, and slaughter, for the most part, by their

own hands.  For they kept not their place, but making down the steep

descent, ran themselves on their own spears, and violently sent each

other over the cliffs, the enemy from above pressing on and wounding

them where they exposed their bodies; insomuch that there fell three

thousand about Thurium.  Some of those who escaped, being met by

Murena as he stood in array, were cut off and destroyed.  Others

breaking through to their friends and falling pell-mell into the

ranks, filled most part of the army with fear and tumult, and caused

a hesitation and delay among the generals, which was no small

disadvantage.  For immediately upon the discomposure, Sylla coming

full speed to the charge, and quickly crossing the interval between

the armies, lost them the service of their armed chariots, which

require a consider able space of ground to gather strength and

impetuosity in their career, a short course being weak and

ineffectual, like that of missiles without a full swing.  Thus it

fared with the barbarians at present, whose first chariots came

feebly on and made but a faint impression; the Romans repulsing them

with shouts and laughter, called out as they do at the races in the

circus, for more to come.  By this time the mass of both armies met;

the barbarians on one side fixed their long pikes, and with their

shields locked close together, strove so far as in them lay to

preserve their line of battle entire.  The Romans, on the other side,

having discharged their javelins, rushed on with their drawn swords,

and struggled to put by the pikes to get at them the sooner, in the

fury that possessed them at seeing in the front of the enemy fifteen

thousand slaves, whom the royal commanders had set free by

proclamation, and ranged amongst the men of arms.  And a Roman

centurion is reported to have said at this sight, that he never knew

servants allowed to play the masters, unless at the Saturnalia.

These men by their deep and solid array, as well as by their daring

courage, yielded but slowly to the legions, till at last by slinging

engines, and darts, which the Romans poured in upon them behind, they

were forced to give way and scatter.

As Archelaus was extending the right wing to encompass the enemy,

Hortensius with his cohorts came down in force, with intention to

charge him in the flank.  But Archelaus wheeling about suddenly with

two thousand horse, Hortensius, outnumbered and hard pressed, fell

back towards the higher grounds, and found himself gradually getting

separated from the main body and likely to be surrounded by the

enemy.  When Sylla heard this, he came rapidly up to his succor from

the right wing, which as yet had not engaged.  But Archelaus,

guessing the matter by the dust of his troops, turned to the right

wing, from whence Sylla came, in hopes to surprise it without a

commander.  At the same instant, likewise, Taxiles, with his Brazen

Shields, assailed Murena, so that a cry coming from both places, and

the hills repeating it around, Sylla stood in suspense which way to

move.  Deciding to resume his own station, he sent in aid to Murena

four cohorts under Hortensius, and commanding the fifth to follow

him, returned hastily to the right wing, which of itself held its

ground on equal terms against Archelaus; and, at his appearance, with

one bold effort forced them back, and, obtaining the mastery,

followed them, flying in disorder to the river and Mount Acontium.

Sylla, however, did not forget the danger Murena was in; but hasting

thither and finding him victorious also, then joined in the pursuit.

Many barbarians were slain in the field, many more were cut in pieces

as they were making into the camp.  Of all the vast multitude, ten

thousand only got safe into Chalcis.  Sylla writes that there were

but fourteen of his soldiers missing, and that two of these returned

towards evening; he, therefore, inscribed on the trophies the names

of Mars, Victory, and Venus, as having won the day no less by good

fortune than by management and force of arms.  This trophy of the

battle in the plain stands on the place where Archelaus first gave

way, near the stream of the Molus; another is erected high on the top

of Thurium, where the barbarians were environed, with an inscription

in Greek, recording that the glory of the day belonged to Homoloichus

and Anaxidamus.  Sylla celebrated his victory at Thebes with

spectacles, for which he erected a stage, near Oedipus's well.  The

judges of the performances were Greeks chosen out of other cities;

his hostility to the Thebans being implacable, half of whose

territory he took away and consecrated to Apollo and Jupiter,

ordering that out of the revenue compensation should be made to the

gods for the riches himself had taken from them.

After this, hearing that Flaccus, a man of the contrary faction, had

been chosen consul, and was crossing the Ionian Sea with an army,

professedly to act against Mithridates, but in reality against

himself, he hastened towards Thessaly, designing to meet him, but in

his march, when near Melitea, received advices from all parts that

the countries behind him were overrun and ravaged by no less a royal

army than the former.  For Dorylaus, arriving at Chalcis with a large

fleet, on board of which he brought over with him eighty thousand of

the best appointed and best disciplined soldiers of Mithridates's

army, at once invaded Boeotia, and occupied the country in hopes to

bring Sylla to a battle, making no account of the dissuasions of

Archelaus, but giving it out as to the last fight, that without

treachery so many thousand men could never have perished.  Sylla,

however, facing about expeditiously, made it clear to him that

Archelaus was a wise man, and had good skill in the Roman valor;

insomuch that he himself, after some small skirmishes with Sylla near

Tilphossium, was the first of those who thought it not advisable to

put things to the decision of the sword, but rather to wear out the

war by expense of time and treasure.  The ground, however, near

Orchomenus, where they then lay encamped, gave some encouragement to

Archelaus, being a battle field admirably suited for an army superior

in cavalry.  Of all the plains in Boeotia that are renowned for their

beauty and extent, this alone, which commences from the city of

Orchomenus, spreads out unbroken and clear of trees to the edge of

the fens in which the Melas, rising close under Orchomenus, loses

itself, the only Greek river which is a deep and navigable water from

the very head, increasing also about the summer solstice like the

Nile, and producing plants similar to those that grow there, only

small and without fruit.  It does not run far before the main stream

disappears among the blind and woody marsh-grounds; a small branch.

however, joins the Cephisus, about the place where the lake is

thought to produce the best flute-reeds.

Now that both armies were posted near each other, Archelaus lay

still, but Sylla employed himself in cutting ditches from either

side; that if possible, by driving the enemies from the firm and open

champain, he might force them into the fens.  They, on the other

hand, not enduring this, as soon as their leaders allowed them the

word of command, issued out furiously in large bodies; when not only

the men at work were dispersed, but most part of those who stood in

arms to protect the work fled in disorder.  Upon this, Sylla leaped

from his horse, and snatching hold of an ensign, rushed through the

midst of the rout upon the enemy, crying out aloud, "To me, O Romans,

it will be glorious to fall here.  As for you, when they ask you

where you betrayed your general, remember and say, at Orchomenus."

His men rallying again at these words, and two cohorts coming to his

succor from the right wing, he led them to the charge and turned the

day.  Then retiring some short distance and refreshing his men, he

proceeded again with his works to block up the enemy's camp.  They

again sallied out in better order than before.  Here Diogenes,

step-son to Archelaus, fighting on the right wing with much

gallantry, made an honorable end.  And the archers, being hard

pressed by the Romans, and wanting space for a retreat, took their

arrows by handfuls, and striking with these as with swords, beat them

back.  In the end, however, they were all driven into the

entrenchment and had a sorrowful night of it with their slain and

wounded.  The next day again, Sylla, leading forth his men up to

their quarters, went on finishing the lines of entrenchment, and when

they issued out again with larger numbers to give him battle, fell on

them and put them to the rout, and in the consternation ensuing, none

daring to abide, he took the camp by storm.  The marshes were filled

with blood, and the lake with dead bodies, insomuch that to this day

many bows, helmets, fragments of iron, breastplates, and swords of

barbarian make, continue to be found buried deep in mud, two hundred

years after the fight.  Thus much of the actions of Chaeronea and

Orchomenus.

At Rome, Cinna and Carbo were now using injustice and violence

towards persons of the greatest eminence, and many of them to avoid

this tyranny repaired, as to a safe harbor, to Sylla's camp, where,

in a short space, he had about him the aspect of a senate.  Metella,

likewise, having with difficulty conveyed herself and children away

by stealth, brought him word that his houses, both in town and

country, had been burnt by his enemies, and entreated his help at

home.  Whilst he was in doubt what to do, being impatient to hear of

his country being thus outraged, and yet not knowing how to leave so

great a work as the Mithridatic war unfinished, there comes to him

Archelaus, a merchant of Delos, with hopes of an accommodation, and

private instructions from Archelaus, the king's general.  Sylla liked

the business so well as to desire a speedy conference with Archelaus

in person, and a meeting took place on the sea-coast near Delium,

where the temple of Apollo stands.  When Archelaus opened the

conversation, and began to urge Sylla to abandon his pretensions to

Asia and Pontus, and to set sail for the war in Rome, receiving money

and shipping, and such forces as he should think fitting from the

king, Sylla, interposing, bade Archelaus take no further care for

Mithridates, but assume the crown to himself, and become a

confederate of Rome, delivering up the navy.  Archelaus professing

his abhorrence of such treason, Sylla proceeded:  "So you, Archelaus,

a Cappadocian, and slave, or if it so please you, friend, to a

barbarian king, would not, upon such vast considerations, be guilty

of what is dishonorable, and yet dare to talk to me, Roman general

and Sylla, of treason? as if you were not the selfsame Archelaus who

ran away at Chaeronea, with few remaining out of one hundred and

twenty thousand men; who lay for two days in the fens of Orchomenus,

and left Boeotia impassable for heaps of dead carcasses."  Archelaus,

changing his tone at this, humbly besought him to lay aside the

thoughts of war, and make peace with Mithridates.  Sylla consenting

to this request, articles of agreement were concluded on.  That

Mithridates should quit Asia and Paphlagonia, restore Bithynia to

Nicomedes, Cappadocia to Ariobarzanes, and pay the Romans two

thousand talents, and give him seventy ships of war with all their

furniture.  On the other hand, that Sylla should confirm to him his

other dominions, and declare him a Roman confederate.  On these terms

he proceeded by the way of Thessaly and Macedon towards the

Hellespont, having Archelaus with him, and treating him with great

attention.  For Archelaus being taken dangerously ill at Larissa, he

stopped the march of the army, and took care of him, as if he had

been one of his own captains, or his colleague in command.  This gave

suspicion of foul play in the battle of Chaeronea; as it was also

observed that Sylla had released all the friends of Mithridates taken

prisoners in war, except only Aristion the tyrant, who was at enmity

with Archelaus, and was put to death by poison; and, above all, ten

thousand acres of land in Euboea had been given to the Cappadocian,

and he had received from Sylla the style of friend and ally of the

Romans.  On all which points Sylla defends himself in his Memoirs.

The ambassadors of Mithridates arriving and declaring that they

accepted of the conditions, only Paphlagonia they could not part

with; and as for the ships, professing not to know of any such

capitulation, Sylla in a rage exclaimed, "What say you?  Does

Mithridates then withhold Paphlagonia? and as to the ships, deny that

article?  I thought to have seen him prostrate at my feet to thank me

for leaving him so much as that right hand of his, which has cut off

so many Romans.  He will shortly, at my coming over into Asia, speak

another language; in the mean time, let him at his ease in Pergamus

sit managing a war which he never saw."  The ambassadors in terror

stood silent by, but Archelaus endeavored with humble supplications

to assuage his wrath, laying hold on his right hand and weeping.  In

conclusion he obtained permission to go himself in person to

Mithridates; for that he would either mediate a peace to the

satisfaction of Sylla, or if not, slay himself.  Sylla having thus

dispatched him away, made an inroad into Maedica, and after wide

depopulations returned back again into Macedon, where he received

Archelaus about Philippi, bringing word that all was well, and that

Mithridates earnestly requested an interview.  The chief cause of

this meeting was Fimbria; for he having assassinated Flaccus, the

consul of the contrary faction, and worsted the Mithridatic

commanders, was advancing against Mithridates himself, who, fearing

this, chose rather to seek the friendship of Sylla.

And so met at Dardanus in the Troad, on one side Mithridates,

attended with two hundred ships, and land forces consisting of twenty

thousand men at arms, six thousand horse, and a large train of

scythed chariots; on the other, Sylla with only four cohorts, and two

hundred horse.  As Mithridates drew near and put out his hand, Sylla

demanded whether he was willing or no to end the war on the terms

Archelaus had agreed to, but seeing the king made no answer, "How is

this?"  he continued, "ought not the petitioner to speak first, and

the conqueror to listen in silence?"  And when Mithridates, entering

upon his plea, began to shift off the war, partly on the gods, and

partly to blame the Romans themselves, he took him up, saying that he

had heard, indeed, long since from others, and now he knew it himself

for truth, that Mithridates was a powerful speaker, who in defense of

the most foul and unjust proceedings, had not wanted for specious

presences.  Then charging him with and inveighing bitterly against

the outrages he had committed, he asked again whether he was willing

or no to ratify the treaty of Archelaus?  Mithridates answering in

the affirmative, Sylla came forward, embraced and kissed him.  Not

long after he introduced Ariobarzanes and Nicomedes, the two kings,

and made them friends Mithridates, when he had handed over to Sylla

seventy ships and five hundred archers, set sail for Pontus.

Sylla, perceiving the soldiers to be dissatisfied with the peace, (as

it seemed indeed a monstrous thing that they should see the king who

was then bitterest enemy, and who had caused one hundred and fifty

thousand Romans to be massacred in one day in Asia, now sailing off

with the riches and spoils of Asia, which he had pillaged, and put

under contribution for the space of four years,) in his defense to

them alleged, that he could not have made head against Fimbria and

Mithridates, had they both withstood him in conjunction.  Thence he

set out and went in search of Fimbria, who lay with the army about

Thyatira, and pitching his camp not far off, proceeded to fortify it

with a trench.  The soldiers of Fimbria came out in their single

coats, and, saluting his men, lent ready assistance to the work;

which change Fimbria beholding, and apprehending Sylla as

irreconcilable, laid violent hands on himself in the camp.

Sylla imposed on Asia in general a tax of twenty thousand talents,

and despoiled individually each family by the licentious behavior and

long residence of the soldiery in private quarters.  For he ordained

that every host should allow his guest four tetradrachms each day,

and moreover entertain him, and as many friends as he should invite,

with a supper; that a centurion should receive fifty drachmas a day,

together with one suit of clothes to wear within doors, and another

when he went abroad.

Having set out from Ephesus with the whole navy, he came the third

day to anchor in the Piraeus.  Here he was initiated in the

mysteries, and seized for his use the library of Apellicon the Teian,

in which were most of the works of Theophrastus and Aristotle, then

not in general circulation.  When the whole was afterwards conveyed

to Rome, there, it is said, the greater part of the collection passed

through the hands of Tyrannion the grammarian, and that Andronicus

the Rhodian, having through his means the command of numerous copies,

made the treatises public, and drew up the catalogues that are now

current.  The elder Peripatetics appear themselves, indeed, to have

been accomplished and learned men, but of the writings of Aristotle

and Theophrastus they had no large or exact knowledge, because

Theophrastus bequeathing his books to the heir of Neleus of Scepsis,

they came into careless and illiterate hands.

During Sylla's stay about Athens, his feet were attacked by a heavy

benumbing pain, which Strabo calls the first inarticulate sounds of

the gout.  Taking, therefore, a voyage to Aedepsus, he made use of

the hot waters there, allowing himself at the same time to forget all

anxieties, and passing away his time with actors.  As he was walking

along the sea-shore, certain fishermen brought him some magnificent

fish.  Being much delighted with the gift, and understanding, on

inquiry, that they were men of Halaeae, "What," said he, "are there

any men of Halaeae surviving?"  For after his victory at Orchomenus,

in the heat of a pursuit, he had destroyed three cities of Boeotia,

Anthedon, Larymna, and Halaeae.  The men not knowing what to say for

fear, Sylla with a smile bade them cheer up and return in peace, as

they had brought with them no insignificant intercessors.  The

Halaeans say that this first gave them courage to reunite and return

to their city.

Sylla, having marched through Thessaly and Macedon to the sea-coast,

prepared, with twelve hundred vessels, to cross over from Dyrrhachium

to Brundisium.  Not far from hence is Apollonia, and near it the

Nymphaeum, a spot of ground where, from among green trees and

meadows, there are found at various points springs of fire

continually streaming out.  Here, they say, a satyr, such as

statuaries and painters represent, was caught asleep, and brought

before Sylla, where he was asked by several interpreters who he was,

and, after much trouble, at last uttered nothing intelligible, but a

harsh noise, something between the neighing of a horse and crying of

a goat.  Sylla, in dismay, and deprecating such an omen, bade it be

removed.

At the point of transportation, Sylla being in alarm, lest at their

first setting foot upon Italy, the soldiers should disband and

disperse one by one among the cities, they of their own accord first

took an oath to stand firm by him, and not of their good-will to

injure Italy; then seeing him in distress for money, they made, so to

say, a freewill offering, and contributed each man according to his

ability.  However Sylla would not accept of their offering, but

praising their good-will, and arousing up their courage, put over (as

he himself writes) against fifteen hostile generals in command of

four hundred and fifty cohorts; but not without the most unmistakable

divine intimations of his approaching happy successes.  For when he

was sacrificing at his first landing near Tarentum, the victim's

liver showed the figure of a crown of laurel with two fillets hanging

from it.  And a little while before his arrival in Campania, near the

mountain Hephaeus, two stately goats were seen in the daytime,

fighting together, and performing all the motions of men in battle.

It proved to be an apparition, and rising up gradually from the

ground, dispersed in the air, like fancied representations in the

clouds, and so vanished out of sight.  Not long after, in the

selfsame place, when Marius the younger, and Norbanus the consul,

attacked him with two great armies, without prescribing the order of

battle, or arranging his men according to their divisions, by the

sway only of one common alacrity and transport of courage, he

overthrew the enemy, and shut up Norbanus into the city of Capua,

with the loss of seven thousand of his men.  And this was the reason,

he says, that the soldiers did not leave him and disperse into the

different towns, but held fast to him, and despised the enemy, though

infinitely more in number.

At Silvium, (as he himself relates it,) there met him a servant of

Pontius, in a state of divine possession, saying that he brought him

the power of the sword and victory from Bellona, the goddess of war,

and if he did not make haste, that the capitol would be burnt, which

fell out on the same day the man foretold it, namely, on the sixth

day of the month Quintilis, which we now call July.

At Fidentia, also, Marcus Lucullus, one of Sylla's commanders,

reposed such confidence in the forwardness of the soldiers, as to

dare to face fifty cohorts of the enemy, with only sixteen of his

own; but because many of them were unarmed, delayed the onset.  As he

stood thus waiting, and considering with himself, a gentle gale of

wind, bearing along with it from the neighboring meadows a quantity

of flowers, scattered them down upon the army, on whose shields and

helmets they settled, and arranged themselves spontaneously, so as to

give the soldiers, in the eyes of the enemy, the appearance of being

crowned with chaplets.  Upon this, being yet further animated, they

joined battle, and victoriously slaying eight thousand men, took the

camp.  This Lucullus was brother to that Lucullus who in after-times

conquered Mithridates and Tigranes.

Sylla, seeing himself still surrounded by so many armies, and such

mighty hostile powers, had recourse to art, inviting Scipio, the

other consul, to a treaty of peace.  The motion was willingly

embraced, and several meetings and consultations ensued, in all which

Sylla, still interposing matter of delay and new pretences, in the

meanwhile debauched Scipio's men by means of his own, who were as

well practiced as the general himself, in all the artifices of

inveigling.  For entering into the enemy's quarters and joining in

conversation, they gained some by present money, some by promises,

others by fair words and persuasions; so that in the end, when Sylla

with twenty cohorts drew near, on his men saluting Scipio's soldiers,

they returned the greeting and came over, leaving Scipio behind them

in his tent, where he was found all alone and dismissed.  And having

used his twenty cohorts as decoys to ensnare the forty of the enemy,

he led them all back into the camp.  On this occasion, Carbo was

heard to say, that he had both a fox and a lion in the breast of

Sylla to deal with, and was most troubled with the fox.

Some time after, at Signia, Marius the younger, with eighty-five

cohorts, offered battle to Sylla, who was extremely desirous to have

it decided on that very day; for the night before he had seen a

vision in his sleep, of Marius the elder, who had been some time

dead, advising his son to beware of the following day, as of fatal

consequence to him.  For this reason, Sylla, longing to come to a

battle, sent off for Dolabella, who lay encamped at some distance.

But because the enemy had beset and blocked up the passes, his

soldiers got tired with skirmishing and marching at once.  To these

difficulties was added, moreover, tempestuous rainy weather, which

distressed them most of all.  The principal officers therefore came

to Sylla, and besought him to defer the battle that day, showing him

how the soldiers lay stretched on the ground, where they had thrown

themselves down in their weariness, resting their heads upon their

shields to gain some repose.  When, with much reluctance, he had

yielded, and given order for pitching the camp, they had no sooner

begun to cast up the rampart and draw the ditch, but Marius came

riding up furiously at the head of his troops, in hopes to scatter

them in that disorder and confusion.  Here the gods fulfilled Sylla's

dream.  For the soldiers, stirred up with anger, left off their work,

and sticking their javelins into the bank, with drawn swords and a

courageous shout, came to blows with the enemy, who made but small

resistance, and lost great numbers in the flight.  Marius fled to

Praeneste, but finding the gates shut, tied himself round by a rope

that was thrown down to him, and was taken up on the walls.  Some

there are (as Fenestella for one) who affirm that Marius knew nothing

of the fight, but, overwatched and spent with hard duty, had reposed

himself, when the signal was given, beneath some shade, and was

hardly to be awakened at the flight of his men.  Sylla, according to

his own account, lost only twenty-three men in this fight, having

killed of the enemy twenty thousand, and taken alive eight thousand.

The like success attended his lieutenants, Pompey, Crassus, Metellus,

Servilius, who with little or no loss cut off vast numbers of the

enemy, insomuch that Carbo, the prime supporter of the cause, fled by

night from his charge of the army, and sailed over into Libya.

In the last struggle, however, the Samnite Telesinus, like some

champion, whose lot it is to enter last of all into the lists and

take up the wearied conqueror, came nigh to have foiled and

overthrown Sylla before the gates of Rome.  For Telesinus with his

second, Lamponius the Lucanian, having collected a large force, had

been hastening towards Praeneste, to relieve Marius from the siege;

but perceiving Sylla ahead of him, and Pompey behind, both hurrying

up against him, straightened thus before and behind, as a valiant and

experienced soldier, he arose by night, and marching directly with

his whole army, was within a little of making his way unexpectedly

into Rome itself.  He lay that night before the city, at ten furlongs

distance from the Colline gate, elated and full of hope, at having

thus out-generalled so many eminent commanders.  At break of day,

being charged by the noble youth of the city, among many others he

overthrew Appius Claudius, renowned for high birth and character.

The city, as is easy to imagine, was all in an uproar, the women

shrieking and running about, as if it had already been entered

forcibly by assault, till at last Balbus, sent forward by Sylla, was

seen riding up with seven hundred horse at full speed.  Halting only

long enough to wipe the sweat from the horses, and then hastily

bridling again, he at once attacked the enemy.  Presently Sylla

himself appeared, and commanding those who were foremost to take

immediate refreshment, proceeded to form in order for battle.

Dolabella and Torquatus were extremely earnest with him to desist

awhile, and not with spent forces to hazard the last hope, having

before them in the field, not Carbo or Marius, but two warlike

nations bearing immortal hatred to Rome, the Samnites and Lucanians,

to grapple with.  But he put them by, and commanded the trumpets to

sound a charge, when it was now about four o'clock in the afternoon.

In the conflict which followed, as sharp a one as ever was, the

right wing where Crassus was posted had clearly the advantage; the

left suffered and was in distress, when Sylla came to its succor,

mounted on a white courser, full of mettle and exceedingly swift,

which two of the enemy knowing him by, had their lances ready to

throw at him; he himself observed nothing, but his attendant behind

him giving the horse a touch, he was, unknown to himself, just so far

carried forward, that the points, falling beside the horse's tail,

stuck in the ground.  There is a story that he had a small golden

image of Apollo from Delphi, which he was always wont in battle to

carry about him in his bosom, and that he then kissed it with these

words, "O Apollo Pythius, who in so many battles hast raised to honor

and greatness the Fortunate Cornelius Sylla, wilt thou now cast him

down, bringing him before the gate of his country, to perish

shamefully with his fellow-citizens?"  Thus, they say, addressing

himself to the god, he entreated some of his men, threatened some,

and seized others with his hand, till at length the left wing being

wholly shattered, he was forced, in the general rout, to betake

himself to the camp, having lost many of his friends and

acquaintance.  Many, likewise, of the city spectators who had come

out, were killed or trodden underfoot.  So that it was generally

believed in the city that all was lost, and the siege of Praeneste

was all but raised; many fugitives from the battle making their way

thither, and urging Lucretius Ofella, who was appointed to keep on

the siege, to rise in all haste, for that Sylla had perished, and

Rome fallen into the hands of the enemy.

About midnight there came into Sylla's camp messengers from Crassus,

to fetch provision for him and his soldiers; for having vanquished

the enemy, they had pursued him to the walls of Antemna, and had sat

down there.  Sylla, hearing this, and that most of the enemy were

destroyed, came to Antemna by break of day, where three thousand of

the besieged having sent forth a herald, he promised to receive them

to mercy, on condition they did the enemy some mischief in their

coming over.  Trusting to his word, they fell foul on the rest of

their companions, and made a great slaughter one of another.

Nevertheless, Sylla gathered together in the circus, as well these as

other survivors of the party, to the number of six thousand, and just

as he commenced speaking to the senate, in the temple of Bellona,

proceeded to cut them down, by men appointed for that service.  The

cry of so vast a multitude put to the sword, in so narrow a space,

was naturally heard some distance, and startled the senators.  He,

however, continuing his speech with a calm and unconcerned

countenance, bade them listen to what he had to say, and not busy

themselves with what was doing out of doors; he had given directions

for the chastisement of some offenders.  This gave the most stupid of

the Romans to understand, that they had merely exchanged, not

escaped, tyranny.  And Marius, being of a naturally harsh temper, had

not altered, but merely continued what he had been, in authority;

whereas Sylla, using his fortune moderately and unambitiously at

first, and giving good hopes of a true patriot, firm to the interests

both of the nobility and commonalty, being, moreover, of a gay and

cheerful temper from his youth, and so easily moved to pity as to

shed tears readily, has, perhaps deservedly, cast a blemish upon

offices of great authority, as if they deranged men's former habits

and character, and gave rise to violence, pride, and inhumanity.

Whether this be a real change and revolution in the mind, caused by

fortune, or rather a lurking viciousness of nature, discovering

itself in authority, it were matter of another sort of disquisition

to decide.

Sylla being thus wholly bent upon slaughter, and filling the city

with executions without number or limit, many wholly uninterested

persons falling a sacrifice to private enmity, through his permission

and indulgence to his friends, Caius Metellus, one of the younger

men, made bold in the senate to ask him what end there was of these

evils, and at what point he might be expected to stop?  "We do not

ask you," said he, "to pardon any whom you have resolved to destroy,

but to free from doubt those whom you are pleased to save."  Sylla

answering, that he knew not as yet whom to spare.  "Why then," said

he, "tell us whom you will punish."  This Sylla said he would do.

These last words, some authors say, were spoken not by Metellus, but

by Afidius, one of Sylla's fawning companions.  Immediately upon

this, without communicating with any of the magistrates, Sylla

proscribed eighty persons, and notwithstanding the general

indignation, after one day's respite, he posted two hundred and

twenty more, and on the third again, as many.  In an address to the

people on this occasion, he told them he had put up as many names as

he could think of; those which had escaped his memory, he would

publish at a future time.  He issued an edict likewise, making death

the punishment of humanity, proscribing any who should dare to

receive and cherish a proscribed person, without exception to

brother, son, or parents.  And to him who should slay any one

proscribed person, he ordained two talents reward, even were it a

slave who had killed his master, or a son his father.  And what was

thought most unjust of all, he caused the attainder to pass upon

their sons, and son's sons, and made open sale of all their property.

Nor did the proscription prevail only at Rome, but throughout all the

cities of Italy the effusion of blood was such, that neither

sanctuary of the gods, nor hearth of hospitality, nor ancestral home

escaped.  Men were butchered in the embraces of their wives, children

in the arms of their mothers.  Those who perished through public

animosity, or private enmity, were nothing in comparison of the

numbers of those who suffered for their riches.  Even the murderers

began to say, that "his fine house killed this man, a garden that, a

third, his hot baths."  Quintus Aurelius, a quiet, peaceable man, and

one who thought all his part in the common calamity consisted in

condoling with the misfortunes of others, coming into the forum to

read the list, and finding himself among the proscribed, cried out,

"Woe is me, my Alban farm has informed against me."  He had not gone

far, before he was dispatched by a ruffian, sent on that errand.

In the meantime, Marius, on the point of being taken, killed himself;

and Sylla, coming to Praeneste, at first proceeded judicially against

each particular person, till at last, finding it a work of too much

time, he cooped them up together in one place, to the number of

twelve thousand men, and gave order for the execution of them all,

his own host alone excepted.  But he, brave man, telling him he

could not accept the obligation of life from the hands of one who had

been the ruin of his country, went in among the rest, and submitted

willingly to the stroke.  What Lucius Catilina did was thought to

exceed all other acts.  For having, before matters came to an issue,

made away with his brother, he besought Sylla to place him in the

list of proscription, as though he had been alive, which was done;

and Catiline, to return the kind office, assassinated a certain

Marcus Marius, one of the adverse party, and brought the head to

Sylla, as he was sitting in the forum, and then going to the holy

water of Apollo, which was nigh, washed his hands.

There were other things, besides this bloodshed, which gave offense.

For Sylla had declared himself dictator, an office which had then

been laid aside for the space of one hundred and twenty years.  There

was, likewise, an act of grace passed on his behalf, granting

indemnity for what was passed, and for the future entrusting him with

the power of life and death, confiscation, division of lands,

erecting and demolishing of cities, taking away of kingdoms, and

bestowing them at pleasure.  He conducted the sale of confiscated

property after such an arbitrary, imperious way, from the tribunal,

that his gifts excited greater odium even than his usurpations;

women, mimes, and musicians, and the lowest of the freed slaves had

presents made them of the territories of nations, and the revenues of

cities; and women of rank were married against their will to some of

them.  Wishing to insure the fidelity of Pompey the Great, by a

nearer tie of blood, he bade him divorce his present wife, and

forcing Aemilia, the daughter of Scaurus and Metella, his own wife,

to leave her husband, Manius Glabrio, he bestowed her, though then

with child, on Pompey, and she died in childbirth at his house.

When Lucretius Ofella, the same who reduced Marius by siege, offered

himself for the consulship, he first forbade him; then, seeing he

could not restrain him, on his coming down into the forum with a

numerous train of followers, he sent one of the centurions who were

immediately about him, and slew him, himself sitting on the tribunal

in the temple of Castor, and beholding the murder from above.  The

citizens apprehending the centurion, and dragging him to the

tribunal, he bade them cease their clamoring and let the centurion

go, for he had commanded it.

His triumph was, in itself, exceedingly splendid, and distinguished

by the rarity and magnificence of the royal spoils; but its yet

greatest glory was the noble spectacle of the exiles.  For in the

rear followed the most eminent and most potent of the citizens,

crowned with garlands, and calling Sylla savior and father, by whose

means they were restored to their own country, and again enjoyed

their wives and children.  When the solemnity was over, and the time

come to render an account of his actions, addressing the public

assembly, he was as profuse in enumerating the lucky chances of war,

as any of his own military merits.  And, finally, from this felicity,

he requested to receive the surname of Felix.  In writing and

transacting business with the Greeks, he styled himself

Epaphroditus, and on his trophies which are still extant with us,

the name is given Lucius Cornelius Sylla Epaphroditus.  Moreover,

when his wife had brought him forth twins, he named the male Faustus,

and the female Fausta, the Roman words for what is auspicious and of

happy omen.  The confidence which he reposed in his good genius,

rather than in any abilities of his own, emboldened him, though

deeply involved in bloodshed, and though he had been the author of

such great changes and revolutions of State, to lay down his

authority, and place the right of consular elections once more in the

hands of the people.  And when they were held, he not only declined

to seek that office, but in the forum exposed his person publicly to

the people, walking up and down as a private man.  And contrary to

his will, certain bold man and his enemy, Marcus Lepidus, was

expected to become consul, not so much by his own interest, as by the

power and solicitation of Pompey, whom the people were willing to

oblige.  When the business was over, seeing Pompey going home

overjoyed with the success, he called him to him and said, "What a

politic act, young man, to pass by Catulus, the best of men, and

choose Lepidus, the worst!  It will be well for you to be vigilant,

now that you have strengthened your opponent against yourself."

Sylla spoke this, it may seem, by a prophetic instinct, for, not long

after, Lepidus grew insolent, and broke into open hostility to Pompey

and his friends.

Sylla, consecrating the tenth of his whole substance to Hercules,

entertained the people with sumptuous feastings.  The provision was

so much above what was necessary, that they were forced daily to

throw great quantities of meat into the river, and they drank wine

forty years old and upwards.  In the midst of the banqueting, which

lasted many days, Metella died of disease.  And because that the

priest forbade him to visit the sick, or suffer his house to be

polluted with mourning, he drew up an act of divorce, and caused her

to be removed into another house whilst alive.  Thus far, out of

religious apprehension, he observed the strict rule to the very

letter, but in the funeral expenses he transgressed the law he

himself had made, limiting the amount, and spared no cost.  He

transgressed, likewise, his own sumptuary laws respecting expenditure

in banquets, thinking to allay his grief by luxurious drinking

parties and revelings with common buffoons.

Some few months after, at a show of gladiators, when men and women

sat promiscuously in the theater, no distinct places being as yet

appointed, there sat down by Sylla a beautiful woman of high birth,

by name Valeria, daughter of Messala, and sister to Hortensius the

orator.  Now it happened that she had been lately divorced from her

husband.  Passing along behind Sylla, she leaned on him with her

hand, and plucking a bit of wool from his garment, so proceeded to

her seat.  And on Sylla looking up and wondering what it meant, "What

harm, mighty Sir," said she, "if I also was desirous to partake a

little in your felicity?"  It appeared at once that Sylla was not

displeased, but even tickled in his fancy, for he sent out to inquire

her name, her birth, and past life.  From this time there passed

between them many side glances, each continually turning round to

look at the other, and frequently interchanging smiles.  In the end,

overtures were made, and a marriage concluded on.  All which was

innocent, perhaps, on the lady's side, but, though she had been never

so modest and virtuous, it was scarcely a temperate and worthy

occasion of marriage on the part of Sylla, to take fire, as a boy

might, at a face and a bold look, incentives not seldom to the most

disorderly and shameless passions.

Notwithstanding this marriage, he kept company with actresses,

musicians, and dancers, drinking with them on couches night and day.

His chief favorites were Roscius the comedian, Sorex the arch mime,

and Metrobius the player, for whom, though past his prime, he still

professed a passionate fondness.  By these courses he encouraged a

disease which had begun from some unimportant cause; and for a long

time he failed to observe that his bowels were ulcerated, till at

length the corrupted flesh broke out into lice.  Many, were employed

day and night in destroying them, but the work so multiplied under

their hands, that not only his clothes, baths, basins, but his very

meat was polluted with that flux and contagion, they came swarming

out in such numbers.  He went frequently by day into the bath to

scour and cleanse his body, but all in vain; the evil generated too

rapidly and too abundantly for any ablutions to overcome it.  There

died of this disease, amongst those of the most ancient times,

Acastus, the son of Pelias; of later date, Alcman the poet,

Pherecydes the theologian, Callisthenes the Olynthian, in the time of

his imprisonment, as also Mucius the lawyer; and if we may mention

ignoble, but notorious names, Eunus the fugitive, who stirred up the

slaves of Sicily to rebel against their masters, after he was brought

captive to Rome, died of this creeping sickness.

Sylla not only foresaw his end, but may be also said to have written

of it.  For in the two and twentieth book of his Memoirs, which he

finished two days before his death, he writes that the Chaldeans

foretold him, that after he had led a life of honor, he should

conclude it in fullness of prosperity.  He declares, moreover, that

in vision he had seen his son, who had died not long before Metella,

stand by in mourning attire, and beseech his father to cast off

further care, and come along with him to his mother Metella, there to

live at ease and quietness with her.  However, he could not refrain

from intermeddling in public affairs.  For, ten days before his

decease, he composed the differences of the people of Dicaearchia,

and prescribed laws for their better government.  And the very day

before his end, it being told him that the magistrate Granius

deferred the payment of a public debt, in expectation of his death,

he sent for him to his house, and placing his attendants about him,

caused him to be strangled; but through the straining of his voice

and body, the imposthume breaking, he lost a great quantity of blood.

Upon this, his strength failing him, after spending a troublesome

night, he died, leaving behind him two young children by Metella.

Valeria was afterwards delivered of a daughter, named Posthuma; for

so the Romans call those who are born after the father's death.

Many ran tumultuously together, and joined with Lepidus, to deprive

the corpse of the accustomed solemnities; but Pompey, though offended

at Sylla, (for he alone of all his friends, was not mentioned in his

will,) having kept off some by his interest and entreaty, others by

menaces, conveyed the body to Rome, and gave it a secure and

honorable burial.  It is said that the Roman ladies contributed such

vast heaps of spices, that besides what was carried on two hundred

and ten litters, there was sufficient to form a large figure of Sylla

himself, and another, representing a lictor, out of the costly

frankincense and cinnamon.  The day being cloudy in the morning, they

deferred carrying forth the corpse till about three in the afternoon,

expecting it would rain.  But a strong wind blowing full upon the

funeral pile, and setting it all in a bright flame, the body was

consumed so exactly in good time, that the pyre had begun to smolder,

and the fire was upon the point of expiring, when a violent rain came

down, which continued till night.  So that his good fortune was firm

even to the last, and did as it were officiate at his funeral.  His

monument stands in the Campus Martius, with an epitaph of his own

writing; the substance of it being, that he had not been outdone by

any of his friends in doing good turns, nor by any of his foes in

doing bad.

COMPARISON OF LYSANDER WITH SYLLA

Having completed this Life also, come we now to the comparison.  That

which was common to them both, was that they were founders of their

own greatness, with this difference, that Lysander had the consent of

his fellow-citizens, in times of sober judgment, for the honors he

received; nor did he force anything from them against their

good-will, nor hold any power contrary to the laws.

In civil strife e'en villains rise to fame.

And so then at Rome, when the people were distempered, and the

government out of order, one or other was still raised to despotic

power; no wonder, then, if Sylla reigned, when the Glauciae and

Saturnini drove out the Metelli, when sons of consuls were slain in

the assemblies, when silver and gold purchased men and arms, and fire

and sword enacted new laws, and put down lawful opposition.  Nor do I

blame anyone, in such circumstances, for working himself into

supreme power, only I would not have it thought a sign of great

goodness, to be head of a State so wretchedly discomposed.  Lysander,

being employed in the greatest commands and affairs of State, by a

sober and well-governed city, may be said to have had repute as the

best and most virtuous man, in the best and most virtuous

commonwealth.  And thus, often returning the government into the

hands of the citizens, he received it again as often, the superiority

of his merit still awarding him the first place.  Sylla, on the other

hand, when he had once made himself general of an army, kept his

command for ten years together, creating himself sometimes consul,

sometimes proconsul, and sometimes dictator, but always remaining a

tyrant.

It is true Lysander, as was said, designed to introduce a new form of

government; by milder methods, however, and more agreeably to law

than Sylla, not by force of arms, but persuasion, nor by subverting

the whole State at once, but simply by amending the succession of the

kings; in a way, moreover, which seemed the naturally just one, that

the most deserving should rule, especially in a city which itself

exercised command in Greece, upon account of virtue, not nobility.

For as the hunter considers the whelp itself, not the bitch, and the

horse-dealer the foal, not the mare, (for what if the foal should

prove a mule?) so likewise were that politician extremely out, who,

in the choice of a chief magistrate, should inquire, not what the man

is, but how descended.  The very Spartans themselves have deposed

several of their kings for want of kingly virtues, as degenerated and

good for nothing.  As a vicious nature, though of an ancient stock,

is dishonorable, it must be virtue itself, and not birth, that makes

virtue honorable.  Furthermore, the one committed his acts of

injustice for the sake of his friends; the other extended his to his

friends themselves.  It is confessed on all hands, that Lysander

offended most commonly for the sake of his companions, committing

several slaughters to uphold their power and dominion; but as for

Sylla, he, out of envy, reduced Pompey's command by land, and

Dolabella's by sea, although he himself had given them those places;

and ordered Lucretius Ofella, who sued for the consulship as the

reward of many great services, to be slain before his eyes, exciting

horror and alarm in the minds of all men, by his cruelty to his

dearest friends.

As regards the pursuit of riches and pleasures, we yet further

discover in one a princely, in the other a tyrannical disposition.

Lysander did nothing that was intemperate or licentious, in that full

command of means and opportunity, but kept clear, as much as ever man

did, of that trite saying,

Lions at home, but foxes out of doors;

and ever maintained a sober, truly Spartan, and well disciplined

course of conduct.  Whereas Sylla could never moderate his unruly

affections, either by poverty when young, or by years when grown old,

but would be still prescribing laws to the citizens concerning

chastity and sobriety, himself living all that time, as Sallust

affirms, in lewdness and adultery.  By these ways he so impoverished

and drained the city of her treasures, as to be forced to sell

privileges and immunities to allied and friendly cities for money,

although he daily gave up the wealthiest and greatest families to

public sale and confiscation.  There was no end of his favors vainly

spent and thrown away on flatterers; for what hope could there be, or

what likelihood of forethought or economy, in his more private

moments over wine, when, in the open face of the people, upon the

auction of a large estate, which he would have passed over to one of

his friends at a small price, because another bid higher, and the

officer announced the advance, he broke out into a passion, saying,

"What a strange and unjust thing is this, O citizens, that I cannot

dispose of my own booty as I please!"  But Lysander, on the contrary,

with the rest of the spoil, sent home for public use even the

presents which were made him.  Nor do I commend him for it, for he

perhaps, by excessive liberality, did Sparta more harm, than ever the

other did Rome by rapine; I only use it as an argument of his

indifference to riches.  They exercised a strange influence on their

respective cities.  Sylla, a profuse debauchee, endeavored to restore

sober living amongst the citizens; Lysander, temperate himself,

filled Sparta with the luxury he disregarded.  So that both were

blameworthy, the one for raising himself above his own laws, the

other for causing his fellow citizens to fall beneath his own

example.  He taught Sparta to want the very things which he himself

had learned to do without.  And thus much of their civil

administration.

As for feats of arms, wise conduct in war, innumerable victories,

perilous adventures, Sylla was beyond compare.  Lysander, indeed,

came off twice victorious in two battles by sea; I shall add to that

the siege of Athens, a work of greater fame, than difficulty.  What

occurred in Boeotia, and at Haliartus, was the result, perhaps, of

ill fortune; yet it certainly looks like ill counsel, not to wait for

the king's forces, which had all but arrived from Plataea, but out of

ambition and eagerness to fight, to approach the walls at

disadvantage, and so to be cut off by a sally of inconsiderable men.

He received his death-wound, not as Cleombrotus at Leuctra, resisting

manfully the assault of an enemy in the field; not as Cyrus or

Epaminondas, sustaining the declining battle, or making sure the

victory; all these died the death of kings and generals; but he, as

it had been some common skirmisher or scout, cast away his life

ingloriously, giving testimony to the wisdom of the ancient Spartan

maxim, to avoid attacks on walled cities, in which the stoutest

warrior may chance to fall by the hand, not only of a man utterly his

inferior, but by that of a boy or woman, as Achilles, they say, was

slain by Paris in the gates.  As for Sylla, it were hard to reckon up

how many set battles he won, or how many thousands he slew; he took

Rome itself twice, as also the Athenian Piraeus, not by famine, as

Lysander did, but by a series of great battles, driving Archelaus

into the sea.  And what is most important, there was a vast

difference between the commanders they had to deal with.  For I look

upon it as an easy task, or rather sport, to beat Antiochus,

Alcibiades's pilot, or to circumvent Philocles, the Athenian

demagogue,

Sharp only at the inglorious point of tongue,

whom Mithridates would have scorned to compare with his groom, or

Marius with his lictor.  But of the potentates, consuls, commanders,

and demagogues, to pass by all the rest who opposed themselves to

Sylla, who amongst the Romans so formidable as Marius? what king more

powerful than Mithridates? who of the Italians more warlike than

Lamponius and Telesinus? yet of these, one he drove into banishment,

one he quelled, and the others he slew.

And what is more important, in my judgment, than anything yet

adduced, is that Lysander had the assistance of the State in all his

achievements; whereas Sylla, besides that he was a banished person,

and overpowered by a faction, at a time when his wife was driven from

home, his houses demolished, and adherents slain, himself then in

Boeotia, stood embattled against countless numbers of the public

enemy, and endangering himself for the sake of his country, raised a

trophy of victory; and not even when Mithridates came with proposals

of alliance and aid against his enemies, would he show any sort of

compliance, or even clemency; did not so much as address him, or

vouchsafe him his hand, until he had it from the king's own mouth,

that he was willing to quit Asia, surrender the navy, and restore

Bithynia and Cappadocia to the two kings.  Than which action, Sylla

never performed a braver, or with a nobler spirit, when, preferring

the public good to the private, and like good hounds, where he had

once fixed, never letting go his hold, till the enemy yielded, then,

and not until then, he set himself to revenge his own private

quarrels.  We may perhaps let ourselves be influenced, moreover, in

our comparison of their characters, by considering their treatment of

Athens.  Sylla, when he had made himself master of the city, which

then upheld the dominion and power of Mithridates in opposition to

him, restored her to liberty and the free exercise of her own laws;

Lysander, on the contrary, when she had fallen from a vast height of

dignity and rule, showed her no compassion, but abolishing her

democratic government, imposed on her the most cruel and lawless

tyrants.  We are now qualified to consider, whether we should go far

from the truth or no, in pronouncing that Sylla performed the more

glorious deeds, but Lysander committed the fewer faults, as,

likewise, by giving to one the preeminence for moderation and

self-control, to the other, for conduct and valor.

CIMON

Peripoltas, the prophet, having brought the king Opheltas, and those

under his command, from Thessaly into Boeotia, left there a family,

which flourished a long time after; the greatest part of them

inhabiting Chaeronea, the first city out of which they expelled the

barbarians.  The descendants of this race, being men of bold attempts

and warlike habits, exposed themselves to so many dangers, in the

invasions of the Mede, and in battles against the Gauls, that at last

they were almost wholly consumed.

There was left one orphan of this house, called Damon, surnamed

Peripoltas, in beauty and greatness of spirit surpassing all of his

age, but rude and undisciplined in temper.  A Roman captain of a

company that wintered in Chaeronea became passionately fond of this

youth, who was now pretty nearly grown a man.  And finding all his

approaches, his gifts, and his entreaties alike repulsed, he showed

violent inclinations to assault Damon.  Our native Chaeronea was then

in a distressed condition, too small and too poor to meet with

anything but neglect.  Damon, being sensible of this, and looking

upon himself as injured already, resolved to inflict punishment.

Accordingly, he and sixteen of his companions conspired against the

captain; but that the design might be managed without any danger of

being discovered, they all daubed their faces at night with soot.

Thus disguised and inflamed with wine, they set upon him by break of

day, as he was sacrificing in the marketplace; and having killed him,

and several others that were with him, they fled out of the city,

which was extremely alarmed and troubled at the murder.  The council

assembled immediately, and pronounced sentence of death against Damon

and his accomplices.  This they did to justify the city to the

Romans.  But that evening, as the magistrates were at supper

together, according to the custom, Damon and his confederates

breaking into the hall, killed them, and then again fled out of the

town.  About this time, Lucius Lucullus chanced to be passing that

way with a body of troops, upon some expedition, and this disaster

having but recently happened, he stayed to examine the matter.  Upon

inquiry, he found the city was in nowise faulty, but rather that they

themselves had suffered; therefore he drew out the soldiers, and

carried them away with him.  Yet Damon continuing to ravage the

country all about, the citizens, by messages and decrees, in

appearance favorable, enticed him into the city, and upon his return,

made him Gymnasiarch; but afterwards as he was anointing himself in

the vapor baths, they set upon him and killed him.  For a long while

after apparitions continuing to be seen, and groans to be heard in

that place, so our fathers have told us, they ordered the gates of

the baths to be built up; and even to this day those who live in the

neighborhood believe that they sometimes see specters, and hear

alarming sounds.  The posterity of Damon, of whom some still remain,

mostly in Phocis, near the town of Stiris, are called Asbolomeni,

that is, in the Aeolian idiom, men daubed with soot; because Damon

was thus besmeared when he committed this murder.

But there being a quarrel between the people of Chaeronea and the

Orchomenians, their neighbors, these latter hired an informer, a

Roman, to accuse the community of Chaeronea, as if it had been a

single person, of the murder of the Romans, of which only Damon and

his companions were guilty; accordingly, the process wee commenced,

and the cause pleaded before the Praetor of Macedon, since the Romans

as yet had not sent governors into Greece.

The advocates who defended the inhabitants appealed to the testimony

of Lucullus, who, in answer to a letter the Praetor wrote to him,

returned a true account of the matter-of-fact.  By this means the

town obtained its acquittal, and escaped a most serious danger.  The

citizens thus preserved erected a statue to Lucullus in the

market-place, near that of the god Bacchus.

We also have the same impressions of gratitude; and though removed

from the events by the distance of several generations, we yet feel

the obligation to extend to ourselves; and as we think an image of

the character and habits, to be a greater honor than one merely

representing the face and the person, we will put Lucullus's life

amongst our parallels of illustrious men, and without swerving from

the truth, will record his actions.  The commemoration will be itself

a sufficient proof of our grateful feeling, and he himself would not

thank us, if in recompense for a service, which consisted in speaking

the truth, we should abuse his memory with a false and counterfeit

narration.  For as we would wish that a painter who is to draw a

beautiful face in which there is yet some imperfection, should

neither wholly leave out, nor yet too pointedly express what is

defective, because this would deform it, and that spoil the

resemblance; so, since it is hard, or indeed perhaps impossible, to

show the life of a man wholly free from blemish, in all that is

excellent we must follow truth exactly, and give it fully; any lapses

or faults that occur, through human passions or political

necessities, we may regard rather as the shortcomings of some

particular virtue, than as the natural effects of vice; and may be

content without introducing them, curiously and officiously, into our

narrative, if it be but out of tenderness to the weakness of nature,

which has never succeeded in producing any human character so perfect

in virtue, as to be pure from all admixture, and open to no

criticism.  On considering; with myself to whom I should compare

Lucullus, I find none so exactly his parallel as Cimon.

They were both valiant in war, and successful against the barbarians;

both gentle in political life, and more than any others gave their

countrymen a respite from civil troubles at home, while abroad, each

of them raised trophies and gained famous victories.  No Greek before

Cimon, nor Roman before Lucullus, ever carried the scene of war so

far from their own country; putting out of the question the acts of

Bacchus and Hercules, and any exploit of Perseus against the

Ethiopians, Medes, and Armenians, or again of Jason, of which any

record that deserves credit can be said to have come down to our

days.  Moreover in this they were alike, that they did not finish the

enterprises they undertook.  They brought their enemies near their

ruin, but never entirely conquered them.  There was yet a greater

conformity in the free good-will and lavish abundance of their

entertainments and general hospitalities, and in the youthful laxity

of their habits.  Other points of resemblance, which we have failed

to notice, may be easily collected from our narrative itself.

Cimon was the son of Miltiades and Hegesipyle, who was by birth a

Thracian, and daughter to the king Olorus, as appears from the poems

of Melanthius and Archelaus, written in praise of Cimon.  By this

means the historian Thucydides was his kinsman by the mother's side;

for his father's name also, in remembrance of this common ancestor,

was Olorus, and he was the owner of the gold mines in Thrace, and met

his death, it is said, by violence, in Scapte Hyle, a district of

Thrace; and his remains having afterwards been brought into Attica, a

monument is shown as his among those of the family of Cimon, near the

tomb of Elpinice, Cimon's sister.  But Thucydides was of the township

of Halimus, and Miltiades and his family were Laciadae.  Miltiades,

being condemned in a fine of fifty talents to the State, and unable

to pay it, was cast into prison, and there died.  Thus Cimon was left

an orphan very young, with his sister Elpinice, who was also young

and unmarried.  And at first he had but an indifferent reputation,

being looked upon as disorderly in his habits, fond of drinking, and

resembling his grandfather, also called Cimon, in character, whose

simplicity got him the surname of Coalemus.  Stesimbrotus of Thasos,

who lived near about the same time with Cimon, reports of him that he

had little acquaintance either with music, or any of the other

liberal studies and accomplishments, then common among the Greeks;

that he had nothing whatever of the quickness and the ready speech of

his countrymen in Attica; that he had great nobleness and candor in

his disposition, and in his character in general, resembled rather a

native of Peloponnesus, than of Athens; as Euripides describes

Hercules,

— Rude

And unrefined, for great things well-endued;

for this may fairly be added to the character which Stesimbrotus has

given of him.

They accused him, in his younger years, of cohabiting with his own

sister Elpinice, who, indeed, otherwise had no very clear reputation,

but was reported to have been over intimate with Polygnotus, the

painter; and hence, when he painted the Trojan women in the porch,

then called the Plesianactium, and now the Poecile, he made Laodice a

portrait of her.  Polygnotus was not an ordinary mechanic, nor was he

paid for this work, but out of a desire to please the Athenians,

painted the portico for nothing.  So it is stated by the historians,

and in the following verses by the poet Melanthius: —

Wrought by his hand the deeds of heroes grace

At his own charge our temples and our Place.

Some affirm that Elpinice lived with her brother, not secretly, but

as his married wife, her poverty excluding her from any suitable

match.  But afterward, when Callias, one of the richest men of

Athens, fell in love with her, and proffered to pay the fine the

father was condemned in, if he could obtain the daughter in marriage,

with Elpinice's own consent, Cimon betrothed her to Callias.  There

is no doubt but that Cimon was, in general, of an amorous temper.

For Melanthius, in his elegies, rallies him on his attachment for

Asteria of Salamis, and again for a certain Mnestra.  And there can

be no doubt of his unusually passionate affection for his lawful wife

Isodice, the daughter of Euryptolemus, the son of Megacles; nor of

his regret, even to impatience, at her death, if any conclusion may

be drawn from those elegies of condolence, addressed to him upon his

loss of her.  The philosopher Panaetius is of opinion, that

Archelaus, the writer on physics, was the author of them, and indeed

the time seems to favor that conjecture.  All the other points of

Cimon's character were noble and good.  He was as daring as

Miltiades, and not inferior to Themistocles in judgment, and was

incomparably more just and honest than either of them.  Fully their

equal in all military virtues, in the ordinary duties of a citizen at

home he was immeasurably their superior.  And this, too, when he was

very young, his years not yet strengthened by any experience.  For

when Themistocles, upon the Median invasion, advised the Athenians to

forsake their city and their country, and to carry all their arms on

shipboard, and fight the enemy by sea, in the straits of Salamis;

when all the people stood amazed at the confidence and rashness of

this advice, Cimon was seen, the first of all men, passing with a

cheerful countenance through the Ceramicus, on his way with his

companions to the citadel, carrying a bridle in his hand to offer to

the goddess, intimating that there was no more need of horsemen now,

but of mariners.  There, after he had paid his devotions to the

goddess, and offered up the bridle, he took down one of the bucklers

that hung upon the walls of the temple, and went down to the port; by

this example giving confidence to many of the citizens.  He was also

of a fairly handsome person, according to the poet Ion, tall and

large, and let his thick and curly hair grow long.  After he had

acquitted himself gallantly in this battle of Salamis, he obtained

great repute among the Athenians, and was regarded with affection, as

well as admiration.  He had many who followed after him and bade him

aspire to actions not less famous than his father's battle of

Marathon.  And when he came forward in political life, the people

welcomed him gladly, being now weary of Themistocles; in opposition

to whom, and because of the frankness and easiness of his temper,

which was agreeable to everyone, they advanced Cimon to the highest

employments in the government.  The man that contributed most to his

promotion was Aristides, who early discerned in his character his

natural capacity, and purposely raised him, that he might be a

counterpoise to the craft and boldness of Themistocles.

After the Medes had been driven out of Greece, Cimon was sent out as

admiral, when the Athenians had not yet attained their dominion by

sea, but still followed Pausanias and the Lacedaemonians; and his

fellow-citizens under his command were highly distinguished, both for

the excellence of their discipline, and for their extraordinary zeal

and readiness.  And further, perceiving that Pausanias was carrying

on secret communications with the barbarians, and writing letters to

the king of Persia to betray Greece, and, puffed up with authority

and success, was treating the allies haughtily, and committing many

wanton injustices, Cimon, taking this advantage, by acts of kindness

to those who were suffering wrong, and by his general humane bearing,

robbed him of the command of the Greeks, before he was aware, not by

arms, but by his mere language and character.  The greatest part of

the allies, no longer able to endure the harshness and pride of

Pausanias, revolted from him to Cimon and Aristides, who accepted the

duty, and wrote to the Ephors of Sparta, desiring them to recall a

man who was causing dishonor to Sparta, and trouble to Greece.  They

tell of Pausanias, that when he was in Byzantium, he solicited a

young lady of a noble family in the city, whose name was Cleonice, to

debauch her.  Her parents, dreading his cruelty, were forced to

consent, and so abandoned their daughter to his wishes.  The daughter

asked the servants outside the chamber to put out all the lights; so

that approaching silently and in the dark toward his bed, she

stumbled upon the lamp, which she overturned.  Pausanias, who was

fallen asleep, awakened and startled with the noise, thought an

assassin had taken that dead time of night to murder him, so that

hastily snatching up his poniard that lay by him, he struck the girl,

who fell with the blow, and died.  After this, he never had rest, but

was continually haunted by her, and saw an apparition visiting him in

his sleep, and addressing him with these angry words:  —

Go on thy way, unto the evil end,

That doth on lust and violence attend.

This was one of the chief occasions of indignation against him among

the confederates, who now joining their resentments and forces with

Cimon's, besieged him in Byzantium.  He escaped out of their hands,

and, continuing, as it is said, to be disturbed by the apparition,

fled to the oracle of the dead at Heraclea, raised the ghost of

Cleonice, and entreated her to be reconciled.  Accordingly she

appeared to him, and answered, that as soon as he came to Sparta, he

should speedily be freed from all evils; obscurely foretelling, it

would seem, his imminent death.  This story is related by many

authors.

Cimon, strengthened with the accession of the allies, went as general

into Thrace.  For he was told that some great men among the Persians,

of the king's kindred, being in possession of Eion, a city situated

upon the river Strymon, infested the neighboring Greeks.  First he

defeated these Persians in battle, and shut them up within the walls

of their town.  Then he fell upon the Thracians of the country beyond

the Strymon, because they supplied Eion with victuals, and driving

them entirely out of the country, took possession of it as conqueror,

by which means he reduced the besieged to such straits, that Butes,

who commanded there for the king, in desperation set fire to the

town, and burned himself, his goods, and all his relations, in one

common flame.  By this means, Cimon got the town, but no great booty;

as the barbarians had not only consumed themselves in the fire, but

the richest of their effects.  However, he put the country about into

the hands of the Athenians, a most advantageous and desirable

situation for a settlement.  For this action, the people permitted

him to erect the stone Mercuries, upon the first of which was this

inscription:  —

Of bold and patient spirit, too, were those,

Who, where the Strymon under Eion flows,

With famine and the sword, to utmost need

Reduced at last the children of the Mede.

Upon the second stood this: —

The Athenians to their leaders this reward

For great and useful service did accord;

Others hereafter, shall, from their applause,

Learn to be valiant in their country's cause

and upon the third, the following:

With Atreus' sons, this city sent of yore

Divine Menestheus to the Trojan shore;

Of all the Greeks, so Homer's verses say,

The ablest man an army to array:

So old the title of her sons the name

Of chiefs and champions in the field to claim.

Though the name of Cimon is not mentioned in these inscriptions, yet

his contemporaries considered them to be the very highest honors to

him; as neither Miltiades nor Themistocles ever received the like.

When Miltiades claimed a garland, Sochares of Decelea stood up in the

midst of the assembly and opposed it, using words which, though

ungracious, were received with applause by the people.  "When you

have gained a victory by yourself, Miltiades, then you may ask to

triumph so too."  What then induced them so particularly to honor

Cimon?  Was it that under other commanders they stood upon the

defensive? but by his conduct, they not only attacked their enemies,

but invaded them in their own country, and acquired new territory,

becoming masters of Eion and Amphipolis, where they planted colonies,

as also they did in the isle of Scyros, which Cimon had taken on the

following occasion.  The Dolopians were the inhabitants of this isle,

a people who neglected all husbandry, and had, for many generations,

been devoted to piracy; this they practiced to that degree, that at

last they began to plunder foreigners that brought merchandise into

their ports.  Some merchants of Thessaly, who had come to shore near

Ctesium, were not only spoiled of their goods, but themselves put

into confinement.  These men afterwards escaping from their prison,

went and obtained sentence against the Scyrians in a court of

Amphictyons, and when the Scyrian people declined to make public

restitution, and called upon the individuals who had got the plunder

to give it up, these persons, in alarm, wrote to Cimon to succor them

with his fleet, and declared themselves ready to deliver the town

into his hands.  Cimon, by these means, got the town, expelled the

Dolopian pirates, and so opened the traffic of the Aegean sea.  And,

understanding that the ancient Theseus, the son of Aegeus, when he

fled from Athens and took refuge in this isle, was here treacherously

slain by king Lycomedes, who feared him, Cimon endeavored to find out

where he was buried.  For an oracle had commanded the Athenians to

bring home his ashes, and pay him all due honors as a hero; but

hitherto they had not been able to learn where he was interred, as

the people of Scyros dissembled the knowledge of it, and were not

willing to allow a search.  But now, great inquiry being made, with

some difficulty he found out the tomb, and carried the relics into

his own galley, and with great pomp and show brought them to Athens,

four hundred years, or thereabouts, after his expulsion.  This act

got Cimon great favor with the people, one mark of which was the

judgment, afterwards so famous, upon the tragic poets.  Sophocles,

still a young man, had just brought forward his first plays; opinions

were much divided, and the spectators had taken sides with some heat.

So, to determine the case, Apsephion, who was at that time archon,

would not cast lots who should be judges; but when Cimon, and his

brother commanders with him, came into the theater, after they had

performed the usual rites to the god of the festival, he would not

allow them to retire, but came forward and made them swear, (being

ten in all, one from each tribe,) the usual oath; and so being sworn

judges, he made them sit down to give sentence.  The eagerness for

victory grew all the warmer, from the ambition to get the suffrages

of such honorable judges.  And the victory was at last adjudged to

Sophocles, which Aeschylus is said to have taken so ill, that he left

Athens shortly after, and went in anger to Sicily, where he died, and

was buried near the city of Gela.

Ion relates that when he was a young man, and recently come from

Chios to Athens, he chanced to sup with Cimon, at Laomedon's house.

After supper, when they had, according to custom, poured out wine to

the honor of the gods, Cimon was desired by the company to give them

a song, which he did with sufficient success, and received the

commendations of the company, who remarked on his superiority to

Themistocles, who, on a like occasion, had declared he had never

learnt to sing, nor to play, and only knew how to make a city rich

and powerful.  After talking of things incident to such

entertainments, they entered upon the particulars of the several

actions for which Cimon had been famous.  And when they were

mentioning the most signal, he told them they had omitted one, upon

which he valued himself most for address and good contrivance.  He

gave this account of it.  When the allies had taken a great number of

the barbarians prisoners in Sestos and Byzantium, they gave him the

preference to divide the booty; he accordingly put the prisoners in

one lot, and the spoils of their rich attire and jewels in the other.

This the allies complained of as an unequal division, but he gave

them their choice to take which lot they would, for that the

Athenians should be content with that which they refused.  Herophytus

of Samos advised them to take the ornaments for their share, and

leave the slaves to the Athenians; and Cimon went away, and was much

laughed at for his ridiculous division.  For the allies carried away

the golden bracelets, and armlets, and collars, and purple robes, and

the Athenians had only the naked bodies of the captives, which they

could make no advantage of, being unused to labor.  But a little

while after, the friends and kinsmen of the prisoners coming from

Lydia and Phrygia, redeemed every one his relations at a high ransom;

so that by this means Cimon got so much treasure that he maintained

his whole fleet of galleys with the money for four months; and yet

there was some left to lay up in the treasury at Athens.

Cimon now grew rich, and what he gained from the barbarians with

honor, he spent yet more honorably upon the citizens.  For he pulled

down all the enclosures of his gardens and grounds, that strangers,

and the needy of his fellow-citizens, might gather of his fruits

freely.  At home, he kept a table, plain, but sufficient for a

considerable number; to which any poor townsman had free access, and

so might support himself without labor, with his whole time left free

for public duties.  Aristotle states, however, that this reception

did not extend to all the Athenians, but only to his own fellow

townsmen, the Laciadae.  Besides this, he always went attended by two

or three young companions, very well clad; and if he met with an

elderly citizen in a poor habit, one of these would change clothes

with the decayed citizen, which was looked upon as very nobly done.

He enjoined them, likewise, to carry a considerable quantity of coin

about them, which they were to convey silently into the hands of the

better class of poor men, as they stood by them in the marketplace.

This, Cratinus the poet speaks of in one of his comedies, the

Archilochi: —

For I, Metrobius too, the scrivener poor,

Of ease and comfort in my age secure,

By Greece's noblest son in life's decline,

Cimon, the generous-hearted, the divine,

Well-fed and feasted hoped till death to be,

Death which, alas! has taken him ere me.

Gorgias the Leontine gives him this character, that he got riches

that he might use them, and used them that he might get honor by

them.  And Critias, one of the thirty tyrants, makes it, in his

elegies, his wish to have

The Scopads' wealth, and Cimon's nobleness,

And king Agesilaus's success.

Lichas, we know, became famous in Greece, only because on the days of

the sports, when the young boys run naked, he used to entertain the

strangers that came to see these diversions.  But Cimon's generosity

outdid all the old Athenian hospitality and good-nature.  For though

it is the city's just boast that their forefathers taught the rest of

Greece to sow corn, and how to use springs of water, and to kindle

fire, yet Cimon, by keeping open house for his fellow-citizens, and

giving travelers liberty to eat the fruits which the several seasons

produced in his land, seemed to restore to the world that community

of goods, which mythology says existed in the reign of Saturn.  Those

who object to him that he did this to be popular, and gain the

applause of the vulgar, are confuted by the constant tenor of the

rest of his actions, which all tended to uphold the interests of the

nobility and the Spartan policy, of which he gave instances, when

together with Aristides, he opposed Themistocles, who was advancing

the authority of the people beyond its just limits, and resisted

Ephialtes, who to please the multitude, was for abolishing the

jurisdiction of the court of Areopagus.  And when all of his time,

except Aristides and Ephialtes, enriched themselves out of the public

money, he still kept his hands clean and untainted, and to his last

day never acted or spoke for his own private gain or emolument.  They

tell us that Rhoesaces, a Persian, who had traitorously revolted from

the king his master, fled to Athens, and there, being harassed by

sycophants, who were still accusing him to the people, he applied

himself to Cimon for redress, and to gain his favor, laid down in his

doorway two cups, the one full of gold, and the other of silver

Darics.  Cimon smiled and asked him whether he wished to have Cimon's

hired service or his friendship.  He replied, his friendship.  "If

so," said he, "take away these pieces, for being your friend, when I

shall have occasion for them, I will send and ask for them."

The allies of the Athenians began now to be weary of war and military

service, willing to have repose, and to look after their husbandry

and traffic.  For they saw and did not fear any new vexations from

them.  They still paid the tax they were assessed at, but did not

send men and galleys, as they had done before.  This the other

Athenian generals wished to constrain them to, and by judicial

proceedings against defaulters, and penalties which they inflicted on

them, made the government uneasy, and even odious.  But Cimon

practiced a contrary method; he forced no man to go that was not

willing, but of those that desired to be excused from service he took

money and vessels unmanned, and let them yield to the temptation of

staying at home, to attend to their private business.  Thus they lost

their military habits, and luxury and their own folly quickly

changed them into unwarlike husbandmen and traders, while Cimon,

continually embarking large numbers of Athenians on board his

galleys, thoroughly disciplined them in his expeditions, their

enemies driven out of the country, and ere long made them the lords

of their own paymasters.  The allies, whose indolence maintained

them, while they thus went sailing about everywhere, and incessantly

bearing arms and acquiring skill, began to fear and flatter then, and

found themselves after a while allies no longer, but unwittingly

become tributaries and slaves.

Nor did any man ever do more than Cimon did to humble the pride of

the Persian king.  He was not content with getting rid of him out of

Greece; but following close at his heels, before the barbarians could

take breath and recover themselves, he was already at work, and what

with his devastations, and his forcible reduction of some places, and

the revolts and voluntary accession of others, in the end, from Ionia

to Pamphylia, all Asia was clear of Persian soldiers.  Word being

brought him that the royal commanders were lying in wait upon the

coast of Pamphylia, with a numerous land army, and a large fleet, he

determined to make the whole sea on this side the Chelidonian islands

so formidable to them that they should never dare to show themselves

in it; and setting off from Cnidos and the Triopian headland, with

two hundred galleys, which had been originally built with particular

care by Themistocles, for speed and rapid evolutions, and to which he

now gave greater width and roomier decks along the sides to move to

and fro upon, so as to allow a great number of full-armed soldiers to

take part in the engagements and fight from them, he shaped his

course first of all against the town of Phaselis, which, though

inhabited by Greeks, yet would not quit the interests of Persia, but

denied his galleys entrance into their port.  Upon this he wasted the

country, and drew up his army to their very walls; but the soldiers

of Chios, who were then serving under him, being ancient friends to

the Phaselites, endeavoring to propitiate the general in their

behalf, at the same time shot arrows into the town, to which were

fastened letters conveying intelligence.  At length he concluded

peace with them, upon the conditions that they should pay down ten

talents, and follow him against the barbarians.  Ephorus says the

admiral of the Persian fleet was Tithraustes, and the general of the

land army Pherendates; but Callisthenes is positive that Ariomandes,

the son of Gobryas, had the supreme command of all the forces.  He

lay waiting with the whole fleet at the mouth of the river Eurymedon,

with no design to fight, but expecting a reinforcement of eighty

Phoenician ships on their way from Cyprus.  Cimon, aware of this, put

out to sea, resolved, if they would not fight a battle willingly, to

force them to it.  The barbarians, seeing this, retired within the

mouth of the river to avoid being attacked; but when they saw the

Athenians come upon them, notwithstanding their retreat, they met

them with six hundred ships, as Phanodemus relates but according to

Ephorus, only with three hundred and fifty.  However, they did

nothing worthy such mighty forces, but immediately turned the prows

of their galleys toward the shore, where those that came first threw

themselves upon the land, and fled to their army drawn up thereabout,

while the rest perished with their vessels, or were taken.  By this,

one may guess at their number, for though a great many escaped out of

the fight, and a great many others were sunk, yet two hundred galleys

were taken by the Athenians.

When their land army drew toward the seaside, Cimon was in suspense

whether he should venture to try and force his way on shore; as he

should thus expose his Greeks, wearied with slaughter in the first

engagement, to the swords of the barbarians, who were all fresh men,

and many times their number.  But seeing his men resolute, and

flushed with victory, he bade them land, though they were not yet

cool from their first battle.  As soon as they touched ground, they

set up a shout and ran upon the enemy, who stood firm and sustained

the first shock with great courage, so that the fight was a hard one,

and some principal men of the Athenians in rank and courage were

slain.  At length, though with much ado, they routed the barbarians,

and killing some, took others prisoners, and plundered all their

tents and pavilions which were full of rich spoil.  Cimon, like a

skilled athlete at the games, having in one day carried off two

victories, wherein he surpassed that of Salamis by sea, and that of

Plataea by land, was encouraged to try for yet another success.  News

being brought that the Phoenician succors, in number eighty sail, had

come in sight at Hydrum, he set off with all speed to find them,

while they as yet had not received any certain account of the larger

fleet, and were in doubt what to think; so that thus surprised, they

lost all their vessels, and most of their men with them.  This

success of Cimon so daunted the king of Persia, that he presently

made that celebrated peace, by which he engaged that his armies

should come no nearer the Grecian sea than the length of a horse's

course; and that none of his galleys or vessels of war should appear

between the Cyanean and Chelidonian isles.  Callisthenes, however,

says that he did not agree to any such articles, but that upon the

fear this victory gave him, he did in reality thus act, and kept off

so far from Greece, that when Pericles with fifty, and Ephialtes with

thirty galleys, cruised beyond the Chelidonian isles, they did not

discover one Persian vessel.  But in the collection which Craterus

made of the public acts of the people, there is a draft of this

treaty given.  And it is told, also, that at Athens they erected the

altar of Peace upon this occasion, and decreed particular honors to

Callias, who was employed as ambassador to procure the treaty.

The people of Athens raised so much money from the spoils of this

war, which were publicly sold, that, besides other expenses, and

raising the south wall of the citadel, they laid the foundation of

the long walls, not, indeed, finished till at a later time, which

were called the Legs.  And the place where they built them being soft

and marshy ground, they were forced to sink great weights of stone

and rubble to secure the foundation, and did all this out of the

money Cimon supplied them with.  It was he, likewise, who first

embellished the upper city with those fine and ornamental places of

exercise and resort, which they afterward so much frequented and

delighted in.  He set the market-place with plane trees; and the

Academy, which was before a bare, dry, and dirty spot, he converted

into a well-watered grove, with shady alleys to walk in, and open

courses for races.

When the Persians who had made themselves masters of the Chersonese,

so far from quitting it, called in the people of the interior of

Thrace to help them against Cimon, whom they despised for the

smallness of his forces, he set upon them with only four galleys, and

took thirteen of theirs; and having driven out the Persians, and

subdued the Thracians, he made the whole Chersonese the property of

Athens.  Next, he attacked the people of Thasos, who had revolted

from the Athenians; and, having defeated them in a fight at sea,

where he took thirty-three of their vessels, he took their town by

siege, and acquired for the Athenians all the mines of gold on the

opposite coast, and the territory dependent on Thasos.  This opened

him a fair passage into Macedon, so that he might, it was thought,

have acquired a good portion of that country; and because he

neglected the opportunity, he was suspected of corruption, and of

having been bribed off by king Alexander.  So, by the combination of

his adversaries, he was accused of being false to his country.  In

his defense he told the judges, that he had always shown himself in

his public life the friend, not, like other men, of rich Ionians and

Thessalians, to be courted, and to receive presents, but of the

Lacedaemonians; for as he admired, so he wished to imitate the

plainness of their habits, their temperance, and simplicity of

living, which he preferred to any sort of riches; but that he always

had been, and still was proud to enrich his country with the spoils

of her enemies.  Stesimbrotus, making mention of this trial, states

that Elpinice, in behalf of her brother, addressed herself to

Pericles, the most vehement of his accusers, to whom Pericles

answered, with a smile, "You are old, Elpinice, to meddle with

affairs of this nature."  However, he proved the mildest of his

prosecutors, and rose up but once all the while, almost as a matter

of form, to plead against him.  Cimon was acquitted.

In his public life after this, he continued, whilst at home, to

control and restrain the common people, who would have trampled upon

the nobility, and drawn all the power and sovereignty to themselves.

But when he afterwards was sent out to war, the multitude broke

loose, as it were, and overthrew all the ancient laws and customs

they had hitherto observed, and, chiefly at the instigation of

Ephialtes, withdrew the cognizance of almost all causes from the

Areopagus; so that all jurisdiction now being transferred to them,

the government was reduced to a perfect democracy, and this by the

help of Pericles, who was already powerful, and had pronounced in

favor of the common people.  Cimon, when he returned, seeing the

authority of this great council so upset, was exceedingly troubled,

and endeavored to remedy these disorders by bringing the courts of

law to their former state, and restoring the old aristocracy of the

time of Clisthenes.  This the others declaimed against with all the

vehemence possible, and began to revive those stories concerning him

and his sister, and cried out against him as the partisan of the

Lacedaemonians.  To these calumnies the famous verses of Eupolis, the

poet upon Cimon refer:  —

He was as good as others that one sees,

But he was fond of drinking and of ease;

And would at nights to Sparta often roam,

Leaving his sister desolate at home.

But if, though slothful and a drunkard, he could capture so many

towns, and gain so many victories, certainly if he had been sober and

minded his business, there had been no Grecian commander, either

before or after him, that could have surpassed him for exploits of

war.

He was, indeed, a favorer of the Lacedaemonians even from his youth,

and he gave the names of Lacedaemonius and Eleus to two sons, twins,

whom he had, as Stesimbrotus says, by a woman of Clitorium, whence

Pericles often upbraided them with their mother's blood.  But

Diodorus, the geographer, asserts that both these, and another son of

Cimon's, whose name was Thessalus, were born of Isodice, the daughter

of Euryptolemus, the son of Megacles.

However, this is certain, that Cimon was countenanced by the

Lacedaemonians in opposition to Themistocles, whom they disliked; and

while he was yet very young, they endeavored to raise and increase

his credit in Athens.  This the Athenians perceived at first with

pleasure, and the favor the Lacedaemonians showed him was in various

ways advantageous to them and their affairs; as at that time they

were just rising to power, and were occupied in winning the allies to

their side.  So they seemed not at all offended with the honor and

kindness showed to Cimon, who then had the chief management of all

the affairs of Greece, and was acceptable to the Lacedaemonians, and

courteous to the allies.  But afterwards the Athenians, grown more

powerful, when they saw Cimon so entirely devoted to the

Lacedaemonians, began to be angry, for he would always in his

speeches prefer them to the Athenians, and upon every occasion, when

he would reprimand them for a fault, or incite them to emulation, he

would exclaim, "The Lacedaemonians would not do thus."  This raised

the discontent, and got him in some degree the hatred of the

citizens; but that which ministered chiefly to the accusation against

him fell out upon the following occasion.

In the fourth year of the reign of Archidamus, the son of Zeuxidamus,

king of Sparta, there happened in the country of Lacedaemon, the

greatest earthquake that was known in the memory of man; the earth

opened into chasms, and the mountain Taygetus was so shaken, that

some of the rocky points of it fell down, and except five houses, all

the town of Sparta was shattered to pieces.  They say, that a little

before any motion was perceived, as the young men and the boys just

grown up were exercising themselves together in the middle of the

portico, a hare, of a sudden, started out just by them, which the

young men, though all naked and daubed with oil, ran after for sport.

No sooner were they gone from the place, than the gymnasium fell down

upon the boys who had stayed behind, and killed them all.  Their tomb

is to this day called Sismatias.  Archidamus, by the present danger

made apprehensive of what might follow, and seeing the citizens

intent upon removing the most valuable of their goods out of their

houses, commanded an alarm to be sounded, as if an enemy were coming

upon them, in order that they should collect about him in a body,

with arms.  It was this alone that saved Sparta at that time, for the

Helots were got together from the country about, with design to

surprise the Spartans, and overpower those whom the earthquake had

spared.  But finding them armed and well prepared, they retired into

the towns and openly made war with them, gaining over a number of the

Laconians of the country districts; while at the same time the

Messenians, also, made an attack upon the Spartans, who therefore

dispatched Periclidas to Athens to solicit succors, of whom

Aristophanes says in mockery that he came and

In a red jacket, at the altars seated,

With a white face, for men and arms entreated.

This Ephialtes opposed, protesting that they ought not to raise up or

assist a city that was a rival to Athens; but that being down, it

were best to keep her so, and let the pride and arrogance of Sparta

be trodden under.  But Cimon, as Critias says, preferring the safety

of Lacedaemon to the aggrandizement of his own country, so persuaded

the people, that he soon marched out with a large army to their

relief.  Ion records, also, the most successful expression which he

used to move the Athenians.  "They ought not to suffer Greece to be

lamed, nor their own city to be deprived of her yoke-fellow."

In his return from aiding the Lacedaemonians, he passed with his army

through the territory of Corinth; where upon Lachartus reproached him

for bringing his army into the country, without first asking leave of

the people.  For he that knocks at another man's door ought not to

enter the house till the master gives him leave.  "But you,

Corinthians, O Lachartus," said Cimon, "did not knock at the gates of

the Cleonaeans and Megarians, but broke them down, and entered by

force, thinking that all places should be open to the stronger."  And

having thus rallied the Corinthian, he passed on with his army.  Some

time after this, the Lacedaemonians sent a second time to desire

succors of the Athenians against the Messenians and Helots, who had

seized upon Ithome.  But when they came, fearing their boldness and

gallantry, of all that came to their assistance, they sent them only

back, alleging they were designing innovations.  The Athenians

returned home, enraged at this usage, and vented their anger upon all

those who were favorers of the Lacedaemonians; and seizing some

slight occasion, they banished Cimon for ten years, which is the time

prescribed to those that are banished by the ostracism.  In the mean

time, the Lacedaemonians, on their return after freeing Delphi from

the Phocians, encamped their army at Tanagra, whither the Athenians

presently marched with design to fight them.

Cimon, also, came thither armed, and ranged himself among those of

his own tribe, which was the Oeneis, desirous of fighting with the

rest against the Spartans; but the council of five hundred being

informed of this, and frighted at it, his adversaries crying out he

would disorder the army, and bring the Lacedaemonians to Athens,

commanded the officers not to receive him.  Wherefore Cimon left the

army, conjuring Euthippus, the Anaphlystian, and the rest of his

companions, who were most suspected as favoring the Lacedaemonians,

to behave themselves bravely against their enemies, and by their

actions make their innocence evident to their countrymen.  These, being

in all a hundred, took the arms of Cimon and followed his advice; and

making a body by themselves, fought so desperately with the enemy,

that they were all cut off, leaving the Athenians deep regret for

the loss of such brave men, and repentance for having so unjustly

suspected them.  Accordingly, they did not long retain their severity

toward Cimon, partly upon remembrance of his former services, and

partly, perhaps, induced by the juncture of the times.  For being

defeated at Tanagra in a great battle, and fearing the Peloponnesians

would come upon them at the opening of the spring, they recalled

Cimon by a decree, of which Pericles himself was author.  So

reasonable were men's resentments in those times, and so moderate

their anger, that it always gave way to the public good.  Even

ambition, the least governable of all human passions, could then

yield to the necessities of the State.

Cimon, as soon as he returned, put an end to the war, and reconciled

the two cities.  Peace thus established, seeing the Athenians

impatient of being idle, and eager after the honor and aggrandizement

of war, lest they should set upon the Greeks themselves, or with so

many ships cruising about the isles and Peloponnesus, they should

give occasions to intestine wars, or complaints of their allies

against them, he equipped two hundred galleys, with design to make an

attempt upon Egypt and Cyprus; purposing, by this means, to accustom

the Athenians to fight against the barbarians, and enrich themselves

honestly by spoiling those who were the natural enemies to Greece.

But when all things were prepared, and the army ready to embark,

Cimon had this dream.  It seemed to him that there was a furious

bitch barking at him, and, mixed with the barking, a kind of human

voice uttered these words: —

Come on, for thou shalt shortly be,

A pleasure to my whelps and me.

This dream was hard to interpret, yet Astyphilus of Posidonia, a man

skilled in divinations, and intimate with Cimon, told him that his

death was presaged by this vision, which he thus explained.  A dog is

enemy to him be barks at; and one is always most a pleasure to one's

enemies, when one is dead; the mixture of human voice with barking

signifies the Medes, for the army of the Medes is mixed up of Greeks

and barbarians.  After this dream, as he was sacrificing to Bacchus,

and the priest cutting up the victim, a number of ants, taking up the

congealed particles of the blood, laid them about Cimon's great toe.

This was not observed for a good while, but at the very time when

Cimon spied it, the priest came and showed him the liver of the

sacrifice imperfect, wanting that part of it called the head.  But he

could not then recede from the enterprise, so he set sail.  Sixty of

his ships he sent toward Egypt; with the rest he went and fought the

king of Persia's fleet, composed of Phoenician and Cilician galleys,

recovered all the cities thereabout, and threatened Egypt; designing

no less than the entire ruin of the Persian empire.  And the rather,

for that he was informed Themistocles was in great repute among the

barbarians, having promised the king to lead his army, whenever he

should make war upon Greece.  But Themistocles, it is said,

abandoning all hopes of compassing his designs, very much out of the

despair of overcoming the valor and good-fortune of Cimon, died a

voluntary death.  Cimon, intent on great designs, which he was now to

enter upon, keeping his navy about the isle of Cyprus, sent

messengers to consult the oracle of Jupiter Ammon upon some secret

matter.  For it is not known about what they were sent, and the god

would give them no answer, but commanded them to return again, for

that Cimon was already with him.  Hearing this, they returned to sea,

and as soon as they came to the Grecian army, which was then about

Egypt, they understood that Cimon was dead; and computing the time of

the oracle, they found that his death had been signified, he being

then already with the gods.

He died, some say, of sickness, while besieging Citium, in Cyprus;

according to others, of a wound he received in a skirmish with the

barbarians.  When he perceived he should die, he commanded those

under his charge to return, and by no means to let the news of his

death be known by the way; this they did with such secrecy that they

all came home safe, and neither their enemies nor the allies knew

what had happened.  Thus, as Phanodemus relates, the Grecian army

was, as it were, conducted by Cimon, thirty days after he was dead.

But after his death there was not one commander among the Greeks that

did anything considerable against the barbarians, and instead of

uniting against their common enemies, the popular leaders and

partisans of war animated them against one another to that degree,

that none could interpose their good offices to reconcile them.  And

while, by their mutual discord, they ruined the power of Greece, they

gave the Persians time to recover breath, and repair all their

losses.  It is true, indeed, Agesilaus carried the arms of Greece

into Asia, but it was a long time after; there were, indeed, some

brief appearances of a war against the king's lieutenants in the

maritime provinces, but they all quickly vanished; before he could

perform anything of moment, he was recalled by fresh civil

dissensions and disturbances at home.  So that he was forced to leave

the Persian king's officers to impose what tribute they pleased on

the Greek cities in Asia, the confederates and allies of the

Lacedaemonians.  Whereas, in the time of Cimon, not so much as a

letter-carrier, or a single horseman, was ever seen to come within

four hundred furlongs of the sea.

The monuments, called Cimonian to this day, in Athens, show that his

remains were conveyed home, yet the inhabitants of the city Citium

pay particular honor to a certain tomb which they call the tomb of

Cimon, according to Nausicrates the rhetorician, who states that in a

time of famine, when the crops of their land all failed, they sent to

the oracle, which commanded them not to forget Cimon, but give him

the honors of a superior being.  Such was the Greek commander.

LUCULLUS

Lucullus's grandfather had been consul; his uncle by the mother's

sister was Metellus, surnamed Numidicus.  As for his parents, his

father was convicted of extortion, and his mother Caecilia's

reputation was bad.  The first thing that Lucullus did before ever

he stood for any office, or meddled with the affairs of state,

being then but a youth, was, to accuse the accuser of his father,

Servilius the augur, having caught him in an offense against the

state.  This thing was much taken notice of among the Romans, who

commended it as an act of high merit.  Even without the

provocation, the accusation was esteemed no unbecoming action, for

they delighted to see young men as eagerly attacking injustice, as

good dogs do wild beasts.  But when great animosities ensued,

insomuch that some were wounded and killed in the fray, Servilius

escaped.  Lucullus followed his studies, and became a competent

speaker, in both Greek and Latin, insomuch that Sylla, when

composing the commentaries of his own life and actions, dedicated

them to him, as one who could have performed the task better

himself.  His speech was not only elegant and ready for purposes of

mere business, like the ordinary oratory which will in the public

market-place,

Lash as a wounded tunny does the sea,

but on every other occasion shows itself

Dried up and perished with the want of wit;

but even in his younger days he addicted himself to the study,

simply for its own sake, of the liberal arts; and when advanced in

years, after a life of conflicts, he gave his mind, as it were, its

liberty, to enjoy in full leisure the refreshment of philosophy;

and summoning up his contemplative faculties, administered a timely

check, after his difference with Pompey, to his feelings of

emulation and ambition.  Besides what has been said of his love of

learning already, one instance more was, that in his youth, upon a

suggestion of writing the Marsian war in Greek and Latin verse and

prose, arising out of some pleasantry that passed into a serious

proposal, he agreed with Hortensius the lawyer, and Sisenna the

historian, that he would take his lot; and it seems that the lot

directed him to the Greek tongue, for a Greek history of that war

is still extant.

Among the many signs of the great love which he bore to his brother

Marcus, one in particular is commemorated by the Romans.  Though he

was elder brother, he would not step into authority without him,

but deferred his own advance until his brother was qualified to

bear a share with him, and so won upon the people, as when absent

to be chosen Aedile with him.

He gave many and early proofs of his valor and conduct, in the

Marsian war, and was admired by Sylla for his constancy and

mildness, and always employed in affairs of importance, especially

in the mint; most of the money for carrying on the Mithridatic war

being coined by him in Peloponnesus, which, by the soldiers' wants,

was brought into rapid circulation, and long continued current

under the name of Lucullean coin.  After this, when Sylla conquered

Athens, and was victorious by land, but found the supplies for his

army cut off, the enemy being master at sea, Lucullus was the man

whom he sent into Libya and Egypt, to procure him shipping.  It was

the depth of winter when he ventured with but three small Greek

vessels, and as many Rhodian galleys, not only into the main sea,

but also among multitudes of vessels belonging to the enemies, who

were cruising about as absolute masters.  Arriving at Crete, he

gained it; and finding the Cyrenians harassed by long tyrannies and

wars, he composed their troubles, and settled their government;

putting the city in mind of that saying which Plato once had

oracularly uttered of them, who, being requested to prescribe laws

to them, and mold them into some sound form of government, made

answer, that it was a hard thing to give laws to the Cyrenians,

abounding, as they did, in wealth and plenty.  For nothing is more

intractable than man when in felicity, nor anything more docile,

when he has been reduced and humbled by fortune.  This made the

Cyrenians so willingly submit to the laws which Lucullus imposed

upon them.  From thence sailing into Egypt, and, pressed by

pirates, he lost most of his vessels; but he himself narrowly

escaping, made a magnificent entry into Alexandria.  The whole

fleet, a compliment due only to royalty, met him in full array, and

the young Ptolemy showed wonderful kindness to him, appointing him

lodging and diet in the palace, where no foreign commander before

him had been received.  Besides, he gave him gratuities and

presents, not such as were usually given to men of his condition,

but four times as much; of which, however, he took nothing more

than served his necessity, and accepted of no gift, though what was

worth eighty talents was offered him.  It is reported he neither

went to see Memphis, nor any of the celebrated wonders of Egypt.

It was for a man of no business and much curiosity to see such

things, not for him who had left his commander in the field,

lodging under the ramparts of his enemies.

Ptolemy, fearing the issue of that war, deserted the confederacy,

but nevertheless sent a convoy with him as far as Cyprus, and at

parting, with much ceremony, wishing him a good voyage, gave him a

very precious emerald set in gold.  Lucullus at first refused it,

but when the king showed him his own likeness cut upon it, he

thought he could not persist in a denial, for had he parted with

such open offense, it might have endangered his passage.  Drawing a

considerable squadron together, which he summoned, as he sailed by,

out of all the maritime towns, except those suspected of piracy, he

sailed for Cyprus; and there understanding that the enemy lay in

wait under the promontories for him, he laid up his fleet, and sent

to the cities to send in provisions for his wintering among them.

But when time served, he launched his ships suddenly, and went off,

and hoisting all his sails in the night, while he kept them down in

the day, thus came safe to Rhodes.  Being furnished with ships at

Rhodes, he also prevailed upon the inhabitants of Cos and Cnidus,

to leave the king's side, and join in an expedition against the

Samians.  Out of Chios he himself drove the king's party, and set

the Colophonians at liberty, having seized Epigonus the tyrant, who

oppressed them.

About this time Mithridates left Pergamus, and retired to Pitane,

where being closely besieged by Fimbria on the land, and not daring

to engage with so bold and victorious a commander, he was

concerting means for escape by sea, and sent for all his fleets

from every quarter to attend him.  Which when Fimbria perceived,

having no ships of his own, he sent to Lucullus, entreating him to

assist him with his, in subduing the most odious and warlike of

kings, lest the opportunity of humbling Mithridates, the prize

which the Romans had pursued with so much blood and trouble, should

now at last be lost, when he was within the net, and easily to be

taken.  And were he caught, no one would be more highly commended

than Lucullus, who stopped his passage and seized him in his

flight.  Being driven from the land by the one, and met in the sea

by the other, he would give matter of renown and glory to them

both, and the much applauded actions of Sylla at Orchomenus and

about Chaeronea, would no longer be thought of by the Romans.  The

proposal was no unreasonable thing; it being obvious to all men,

that if Lucullus had hearkened to Fimbria, and with his navy, which

was then near at hand, had blocked up the haven, the war soon had

been brought to an end, and infinite numbers of mischiefs prevented

thereby.  But he, whether from the sacredness of friendship between

himself and Sylla, reckoning all other considerations of public or

of private advantage inferior to it, or out of detestation of the

wickedness of Fimbria, whom he abhorred for advancing himself by

the late death of his friend and the general of the army, or by a

divine fortune sparing Mithridates then, that he might have him an

adversary for a time to come, for whatever reason, refused to

comply, and suffered Mithridates to escape and laugh at the

attempts of Fimbria.  He himself alone first, near Lectum in Troas,

in a sea-fight, overcame the king's ships; and afterwards,

discovering Neoptolemus lying in wait for him near Tenedos, with a

greater fleet, he went aboard a Rhodian quinquereme galley,

commended by Damagoras, a man of great experience at sea, and

friendly to the Romans, and sailed before the rest.  Neoptolemus

made up furiously at him, and commanded the master, with all

imaginable might, to charge; but Damagoras, fearing the bulk and

massy stem of the admiral, thought it dangerous to meet him prow to

prow, and, rapidly wheeling round, bid his men back water, and so

received him astern; in which place, though violently borne upon,

he received no manner of harm, the blow being defeated by falling

on those parts of the ship which lay under water.  By which time,

the rest of the fleet coming up to him, Lucullus gave order to turn

again, and vigorously falling, upon the enemy, put them to flight,

and pursued Neoptolemus.  After this he came to Sylla, in

Chersonesus, as he was preparing to pass the strait, and brought

timely assistance for the safe transportation of the army.

Peace being presently made, Mithridates sailed off to the Euxine

sea, but Sylla taxed the inhabitants of Asia twenty thousand

talents, and ordered Lucullus to gather and coin the money.  And it

was no small comfort to the cities under Sylla's severity, that a

man of not only incorrupt and just behavior, but also of

moderation, should be employed in so heavy and odious an office.

The Mitylenaeans, who absolutely revolted, he was willing should

return to their duty, and submit to a moderate penalty for the

offense they had given in the case of Marius.  But, finding them

bent upon their own destruction, he came up to them, defeated them

at sea, blocked them up in their city and besieged them; then

sailing off from them openly in the day to Elaea, he returned

privately, and posting an ambush near the city, lay quiet himself:

And on the Mitylenaeans coming out eagerly and in disorder to

plunder the deserted camp, he fell upon them, took many of them,

and slew five hundred, who stood upon their defense.  He gained six

thousand slaves, and a very rich booty.

He was no way engaged in the great and general troubles of Italy

which Sylla and Marius created, a happy providence at that time

detaining him in Asia upon business.  He was as much in Sylla's

favor, however, as any of his other friends; Sylla, as was said

before, dedicated his Memoirs to him as a token of kindness, and at

his death, passing by Pompey, made him guardian to his son; which

seems, indeed, to have been the rise of the quarrel and jealousy

between them two being both young men, and passionate for honor.

A little after Sylla's death, he was made consul with Marcus Cotta,

about the one hundred and seventy-sixth Olympiad.  The Mithridatic

war being then under debate, Marcus declared that it was not

finished, but only respited for a time, and therefore, upon choice

of provinces, the lot falling to Lucullus to have Gaul within the

Alps, a province where no great action was to be done, he was

ill-pleased.  But chiefly, the success of Pompey in Spain fretted

him, as, with the renown he got there, if the Spanish war were

finished in time, he was likely to be chosen general before anyone

else against Mithridates.  So that when Pompey sent for money, and

signified by letter that, unless it were sent him, he would leave

the country and Sertorius, and bring his forces home to Italy,

Lucullus most zealously supported his request, to prevent any

pretence of his returning home during his own consulship; for all

things would have been at his disposal, at the head of so great an

army.  For Cethegus, the most influential popular leader at that

time, owing to his always both acting and speaking to please the

people, had, as it happened, a hatred to Lucullus, who had not

concealed his disgust at his debauched, insolent, and lawless life.

Lucullus, therefore, was at open warfare with him.  And Lucius

Quintius, also, another demagogue, who was taking steps against

Sylla's constitution, and endeavoring to put things out of order,

by private exhortations and public admonitions he checked in his

designs, and repressed his ambition, wisely and safely remedying a

great evil at the very outset.

At this time news came that Octavius, the governor of Cilicia, was

dead, and many were eager for the place, courting Cethegus, as the

man best able to serve them.  Lucullus set little value upon

Cilicia itself, no otherwise than as he thought, by his acceptance

of it, no other man besides himself might be employed in the war

against Mithridates, by reason of its nearness to Cappadocia.  This

made him strain every effort that that province might be allotted

to himself, and to none other; which led him at last into an

expedient not so honest or commendable, as it was serviceable for

compassing his design, submitting to necessity against his own

inclination.  There was one Praecia, a celebrated wit and beauty,

but in other respects nothing better than an ordinary harlot; who,

however, to the charms of her person adding the reputation of one

that loved and served her friends, by making use of those who

visited her to assist their designs and promote their interests,

had thus gained great power.  She had seduced Cethegus, the first

man at that time in reputation and authority of all the city, and

enticed him to her love, and so had made all authority follow her.

For nothing of moment was done in which Cethegus was not concerned,

and nothing by Cethegus without Praecia.  This woman Lucullus

gained to his side by gifts and flattery, (and a great price it was

in itself to so stately and magnificent a dame, to be seen engaged

in the same cause with Lucullus,) and thus he presently found

Cethegus his friend, using his utmost interest to procure Cilicia

for him; which when once obtained, there was no more need of

applying himself either to Praecia, or Cethegus; for all

unanimously voted him to the Mithridatic war, by no hands likely to

be so successfully managed as his.  Pompey was still contending

with Sertorius, and Metellus by age unfit for service; which two

alone were the competitors who could prefer any claim with Lucullus

for that command.  Cotta, his colleague, after much ado in the

senate, was sent away with a fleet to guard the Propontis, and

defend Bithynia.

Lucullus carried with him a legion under his own orders, and

crossed over into Asia and took the command of the forces there,

composed of men who were all thoroughly disabled by dissoluteness

and rapine, and the Fimbrians, as they were called, utterly

unmanageable by long want of any sort of discipline.  For these

were they who under Fimbria had slain Flaccus, the consul and

general, and afterwards betrayed Fimbria to Sylla; a willful and

lawless set of men, but warlike, expert, and hardy in the field.

Lucullus in a short time took down the courage of these, and

disciplined the others, who then first, in all probability, knew

what a true commander and governor was; whereas in former times

they had been courted to service, and took up arms at nobody's

command, but their own wills.

The enemy's provisions for war stood thus; Mithridates, like the

Sophists, boastful and haughty at first, set upon the Romans, with

a very inefficient army, such, indeed, as made a good show, but was

nothing for use.  But being shamefully routed, and taught a lesson

for a second engagement, he reduced his forces to a proper,

serviceable shape.  Dispensing with the mixed multitudes, and the

noisy menaces of barbarous tribes of various languages, and with

the ornaments of gold and precious stones, a greater temptation to

the victors than security to the bearers, he gave his men broad

swords like the Romans', and massy shields; chose horses better for

service than show, drew up an hundred and twenty thousand foot in

the figure of the Roman phalanx, and had sixteen thousand horse,

besides chariots armed with scythes, no less than a hundred.

Besides which, he set out a fleet not at all cumbered with gilded

cabins, luxurious baths and women's furniture, but stored with

weapons and darts, and other necessaries, and thus made a descent

upon Bithynia.  Not only did these parts willingly receive him

again, but almost all Asia regarded him as their salvation from the

intolerable miseries which they were suffering from the Roman

money-lenders, and revenue farmers.  These, afterwards, who like

harpies stole away their very nourishment, Lucullus drove away, and

at this time by reproving them, did what he could to make them more

moderate, and to prevent a general secession, then breaking out in

all parts.  While Lucullus was detained in rectifying these

matters, Cotta, finding affairs ripe for action, prepared for

battle with Mithridates; and news coming from all hands that

Lucullus had already entered Phrygia, on his march against the

enemy, he, thinking he had a triumph all but actually in his hands,

lest his colleague should share in the glory of it, hasted to

battle without him.  But being routed, both by sea and land, he

lost sixty ships with their men, and four thousand foot, and

himself was forced into and besieged in Chalcedon, there waiting

for relief from Lucullus.  There were those about Lucullus who

would have had him leave Cotta and go forward, in hope of

surprising the defenseless kingdom of Mithridates.  And this was

the feeling of the soldiers in general, who wore indignant that

Cotta should by his ill-counsel not only lose his own army, but

hinder them also from conquest, which at that time, without the

hazard of a battle, they might have obtained.  But Lucullus, in a

public address, declared to them that he would rather save one

citizen from the enemy, than be master of all that they had.

Archelaus, the former commander in Boeotia under Mithridates, who

afterwards deserted him and accompanied the Romans, protested to

Lucullus that, upon his mere coming, he would possess himself of

all Pontus.  But he answered, that it did not become him to be more

cowardly than huntsmen, to leave the wild beasts abroad, and seek

after sport in their deserted dens.  Having so said, he made

towards Mithridates with thirty thousand foot, and two thousand

five hundred horse.  But on being come in sight of his enemies, he

was astonished at their numbers, and thought to forbear fighting,

and wear out time.  But Marius, whom Sertorius had sent out of

Spain to Mithridates with forces under him, stepping out and

challenging him, he prepared for battle.  In the very instant

before joining battle, without any perceptible alteration

preceding, on a sudden the sky opened, and a large luminous body

fell down in the midst between the armies, in shape like a

hogshead, but in color like melted silver, insomuch that both

armies in alarm withdrew.  This wonderful prodigy happened in

Phrygia, near Otryae.  Lucullus after this began to think with

himself that no human power and wealth could suffice to sustain

such great numbers as Mithridates had, for any long time in the

face of an enemy, and commanded one of the captives to be brought

before him, and first of all asked him, how many companions had

been quartered with him, and how much provision he had left behind

him, and when he had answered him, commanded him to stand aside;

then asked a second and a third the same question; after which,

comparing the quantity of provision with the men, he found that in

three or four days' time, his enemies would be brought to want.

This all the more determined him to trust to time, and he took

measures to store his camp with all sorts of provision, and thus

living in plenty, trusted to watch the necessities of his hungry

enemy.

This made Mithridates set out against the Cyzicenians, miserably

shattered in the fight at Chalcedon, where they lost no less than

three thousand citizens and ten ships.  And that he might the safer

steal away unobserved by Lucullus, immediately after supper, by the

help of a dark and wet night, he went off and by the morning gained

the neighborhood of the city, and sat down with his forces upon the

Adrastean mount.  Lucullus, on finding him gone, pursued, but was

well pleased not to overtake him with his own forces in disorder;

and he sat down near what is called the Thracian village, an

admirable position for commanding all the roads and the places

whence, and through which the provisions for Mithridates's camp

must of necessity come.  And judging now of the event, he no longer

kept his mind from his soldiers, but when the camp was fortified

and their work finished, called them together, and with great

assurance told them that in a few days, without the expense of

blood, he would give them victory.

Mithridates besieged the Cyzicenians with ten camps by land, and

with his ships occupied the strait that was betwixt their city and

the main land, and so blocked them up on all sides; they, however,

were fully prepared stoutly to receive him, and resolved to endure

the utmost extremity, rather than forsake the Romans.  That which

troubled them most was, that they knew not where Lucullus was, and

heard nothing of him, though at that time his army was visible

before them.  But they were imposed upon by the Mithridatians, who,

showing them the Romans encamped on the hills, said, "Do ye see

those? those are the auxiliary Armenians and Medes, whom Tigranes

has sent to Mithridates."  They were thus overwhelmed with thinking

of the vast numbers round them, and could not believe any way of

relief was left them, even if Lucullus should come up to their

assistance.  Demonax, a messenger sent in by Archelaus, was the

first who told them of Lucullus's arrival; but they disbelieved his

report, and thought he came with a story invented merely to

encourage them.  At which time it happened that a boy, a prisoner

who had run away from the enemy, was brought before them; who,

being asked where Lucullus was, laughed at their jesting, as he

thought, but, finding them in earnest, with his finger pointed to

the Roman camp; upon which they took courage.  The lake Dascylitis

was navigated with vessels of some little size; one, the biggest of

them, Lucullus drew ashore, and carrying her across in a wagon to

the sea, filled her with soldiers, who, sailing along unseen in the

dead of the night, came safe into the city.

The gods themselves, too, in admiration of the constancy of the

Cyzicenians, seem to have animated them with manifest signs, more

especially now in the festival of Proserpine, where a black heifer

being wanting for sacrifice, they supplied it by a figure made of

dough, which they set before the altar.  But the holy heifer set

apart for the goddess, and at that time grazing with the other

herds of the Cyzicenians on the other side of the strait, left the

herd and swam over to the city alone, and offered herself for

sacrifice.  By night, also, the goddess appearing to Aristagoras,

the town clerk, "I am come," said she, "and have brought the Libyan

piper against the Pontic trumpeter; bid the citizens, therefore, be

of good courage."  While the Cyzicenians were wondering what the

words could mean, a sudden wind sprung up and caused a considerable

motion on the sea.  The king's battering engines, the wonderful

contrivance of Niconides of Thessaly, then under the walls, by

their cracking and rattling, soon demonstrated what would follow;

after which an extraordinarily tempestuous south wind succeeding

shattered in a short space of time all the rest of the works, and

by a violent concussion, threw down the wooden tower a hundred

cubits high.  It is said that in Ilium Minerva appeared to many

that night in their sleep, with the sweat running down her person,

and showed them her robe torn in one place, telling them that she

had just arrived from relieving the Cyzicenians; and the

inhabitants to this day show a monument with an inscription,

including a public decree, referring to the fact.

Mithridates, through the knavery of his officers, not knowing for

some time the want of provision in his camp, was troubled in mind

that the Cyzicenians should hold out against him.  But his ambition

and anger fell, when he saw his soldiers in the extremity of want,

and feeding on man's flesh; as, in truth, Lucullus was not carrying

on the war as mere matter of show and stage-play, but according to

the proverb, made the seat of war in the belly, and did everything

to cut off their supplies of food.  Mithridates, therefore, took

advantage of the time, while Lucullus was storming a fort, and sent

away almost all his horse to Bithynia, with the sumpter cattle, and

as many of the foot as were unfit for service.  On intelligence of

which, Lucullus, while it was yet night, came to his camp, and in

the morning, though it was stormy weather, took with him ten

cohorts of foot, and the horse, and pursued them under falling snow

and in cold so severe that many of his soldiers were unable to

proceed; and with the rest coming upon the enemy, near the river

Rhyndacus, he overthrew them with so great a slaughter, that the

very women of Apollonia came out to seize on the booty and strip

the slain.  Great numbers, as we may suppose, were slain; six

thousand horses were taken, with an infinite number of beasts of

burden, and no less than fifteen thousand men.  All which he led

along by the enemy's camp.  I cannot but wonder on this occasion at

Sallust, who says that this was the first time camels were seen by

the Romans, as if he thought those who, long before, under Scipio,

defeated Antiochus, or those who lately had fought against

Archelaus near Orchomenus and Chaeronea, had not known what a camel

was.  Mithridates, himself fully determined upon flight, as mere

delays and diversions for Lucullus, sent his admiral Aristonicus to

the Greek sea; who, however, was betrayed in the very instant of

going off, and Lucullus became master of him, and ten thousand

pieces of gold which he was carrying with him to corrupt some of

the Roman army.  After which, Mithridates himself made for the sea,

leaving the foot officers to conduct the army, upon whom Lucullus

fell, near the river Granicus, where he took a vast number alive,

and slew twenty thousand.  It is reported that the total number

killed, of fighting men and of others who followed the camp,

amounted to something not far short of three hundred thousand.

Lucullus first went to Cyzicus, where he was received with all the

joy and gratitude suiting the occasion, and then collected a navy,

visiting the shores of the Hellespont.  And arriving at Troas, he

lodged in the temple of Venus, where, in the night, he thought he

saw the goddess coming to him, and saying,

Sleep'st thou, great lion, when the fawns are nigh?

Rising up hereupon, he called his friends to him, it being yet

night, and told them his vision; at which instant some Ilians came

up and acquainted him that thirteen of the king's quinqueremes were

seen off the Achaean harbor, sailing for Lemnos.  He at once put to

sea, took these, and slew their admiral Isidorus.  And then he made

after another squadron, who were just come into port, and were

hauling their vessels ashore, but fought from the decks, and sorely

galled Lucullus's men; there being neither room to sail round

them, nor to bear upon them for any damage, his ships being afloat,

while theirs stood secure and fixed on the sand.  After much ado,

at the only landing-place of the island, he disembarked the

choicest of his men, who, falling upon the enemy behind, killed

some, and forced others to cut their cables, and thus making from

the shore, they fell foul upon one another, or came within the

reach of Lucullus's fleet.  Many were killed in the action.  Among

the captives was Marius, the commander sent by Sertorius, who had

but one eye.  And it was Lucullus's strict command to his men

before the engagement, that they should kill no man who had but one

eye, that he might rather die under disgrace and reproach.

This being over, he hastened his pursuit after Mithridates, whom he

hoped to find still in Bithynia, intercepted by Voconius, whom he

sent out before to Nicomedia with part of the fleet, to stop his

flight.  But Voconius, loitering in Samothrace to get initiated and

celebrate a feast, let slip his opportunity, Mithridates being

passed by with all his fleet.  He, hastening into Pontus before

Lucullus should come up to him, was caught in a storm, which

dispersed his fleet and sunk several ships.  The wreck floated on

all the neighboring shore for many days after.  The merchant ship,

in which he himself was, could not well in that heavy swell be

brought ashore by the masters for its bigness, and it being heavy

with water and ready to sink, he left it and went aboard a pirate

vessel, delivering himself into the hands of pirates, and thus

unexpectedly and wonderfully came safe to Heraclea, in Pontus.

Thus the proud language Lucullus had used to the senate, ended

without any mischance.  For they having decreed him three thousand

talents to furnish out a navy, he himself was against it, and sent

them word that without any such great and costly supplies, by the

confederate shipping alone, he did not in the least doubt but to

rout Mithridates from the sea.  And so he did, by divine

assistance, for it is said that the wrath of Diana of Priapus

brought the great tempest upon the men of Pontus, because they had

robbed her temple, and removed her image.

Many were persuading Lucullus to defer the war, but he rejected

their counsel, and marched through Bithynia and Galatia into the

king's country, in such great scarcity of provision at first, that

thirty thousand Galatians followed, every man carrying a bushel of

wheat at his back.  But subduing all in his progress before him, he

at last found himself in such great plenty, that an ox was sold in

the camp for a single drachma, and a slave for four.  The other

booty they made no account of, but left it behind or destroyed it;

there being no disposing of it, where all had such abundance.  But

when they had made frequent incursions with their cavalry, and had

advanced as far Themiscyra, and the plains of the Thermodon, merely

laying waste the country before them, they began to find fault with

Lucullus, asking "why he took so many towns by surrender, and never

one by storm, which might enrich them with the plunder? and now,

forsooth, leaving Amisus behind, a rich and wealthy city, of easy

conquest, if closely besieged, he will carry us into the Tibarenian

and Chaldean wilderness, to fight with Mithridates."  Lucullus,

little thinking this would be of such dangerous consequence as it

afterwards proved, took no notice and slighted it; and was rather

anxious to excuse himself to those who blamed his tardiness, in

losing time about small pitiful places not worth the while, and

allowing Mithridates opportunity to recruit.  "That is what I

design," said he, "and sit here contriving by my delay, that he may

grow great again, and gather a considerable army, which may induce

him to stand, and not fly away before us.  For do you not see the

wide and unknown wilderness behind?  Caucasus is not far off, and a

multitude of vast mountains, enough to conceal ten thousand kings

that wished to avoid a battle.  Besides this, a journey but of few

days leads from Cabira to Armenia, where Tigranes reigns, king of

kings, and holds in his hands a power that has enabled him to keep

the Parthians in narrow bounds, to remove Greek cities bodily into

Media, to conquer Syria and Palestine, to put to death the kings of

the royal line of Seleucus, and carry away their wives and

daughters by violence.  This same is relation and son-in-law to

Mithridates, and cannot but receive him upon entreaty, and enter

into war with us to defend him; so that, while we endeavor to

depose Mithridates, we shall endanger the bringing in of Tigranes

against us, who already has sought occasion to fall out with us,

but can never find one so justifiable as the succor of a friend and

prince in his necessity.  Why, therefore, should we put Mithridates

upon this resource, who as yet does not see now he may best fight

with us, and disdains to stoop to Tigranes; and not rather allow

him time to gather a new army and grow confident again, that we may

thus fight with Colchians, and Tibarenians, whom we have often

defeated already, and not with Medes and Armenians."

Upon these motives, Lucullus sat down before Amisus, and slowly

carried on the siege.  But the winter being well spent, he left

Murena in charge of it, and went himself against Mithridates, then

rendezvousing at Cabira, and resolving to await the Romans, with

forty thousand foot about him, and fourteen thousand horse, on whom

he chiefly confided.  Passing the river Lycus, he challenged the

Romans into the plains, where the cavalry engaged, and the Romans

were beaten.  Pomponius, a man of some note, was taken wounded; and

sore, and in pain as he was, was carried before Mithridates, and

asked by the king, if he would become his friend, if he saved his

life.  He answered, "yes, if you become reconciled to the Romans;

if not, your enemy."  Mithridates wondered at him, and did him no

hurt.  The enemy being with their cavalry master of the plains,

Lucullus was something afraid, and hesitated to enter the

mountains, being very large, woody, and almost inaccessible, when,

by good luck, some Greeks who had fled into a cave were taken, the

eldest of whom, Artemidorus by name, promised to bring Lucullus,

and seat him in a place of safety for his army, where there was a

fort that overlooked Cabira.  Lucullus, believing him, lighted his

fires, and marched in the night; and safely passing the defile,

gained the place, and in the morning was seen above the enemy,

pitching his camp in a place advantageous to descend upon them if

he desired to fight, and secure from being forced, if he preferred

to lie still.  Neither side was willing to engage at present.  But

it is related that some of the king's party were hunting a stag,

and some Romans wanting to cut them off, came out and met them.

Whereupon they skirmished, more still drawing together to each

side, and at last the king's party prevailed, on which the Romans,

from their camp seeing their companions fly, were enraged, and ran

to Lucullus with entreaties to lead them out, demanding that the

sign might be given for battle.  But he, that they might know of

what consequence the presence and appearance of a wise commander is

in time of conflict and danger, ordered them to stand still.  But

he went down himself into the plains, and meeting with the foremost

that fled, commanded them to stand and turn back with him.  These

obeying, the rest also turned and formed again in a body, and thus,

with no great difficulty, drove back the enemies, and pursued them

to their camp.  After his return, Lucullus inflicted the customary

punishment upon the fugitives, and made them dig a trench of twelve

foot, working in their frocks unfastened, while the rest stood by

and looked on.

There was in Mithridates's camp, one Olthacus a chief of the

Dandarians, a barbarous people living near the lake Maeotis, a man

remarkable for strength and courage in fight, wise in council, and

pleasant and ingratiating in conversation.  He, out of emulation,

and a constant eagerness which possessed him to outdo one of the

other chiefs of his country, promised a great piece of service to

Mithridates, no less than the death of Lucullus.  The king

commended his resolution, and, according to agreement,

counterfeited anger, and put some disgrace upon him; whereupon he

took horse, and fled to Lucullus, who kindly received him, being a

man of great name in the army.  After some short trial of his

sagacity and perseverance, he found way to Lucullus's board and

council.  The Dandarian, thinking he had a fair opportunity,

commanded his servants to lead his horse out of the camp, while he

himself, as the soldiers were refreshing and resting themselves, it

being then high noon, went to the general's tent, not at all

expecting that entrance would be denied to one who was so familiar

with him, and came under pretence of extraordinary business with

him.  He had certainly been admitted, had not sleep, which has

destroyed many captains, saved Lucullus.  For so it was, and

Menedemus, one of the bedchamber, was standing at the door, who

told Olthacus that it was altogether unseasonable to see the

general, since, after long watching and hard labor, he was but just

before laid down to repose himself.  Olthacus would not go away

upon this denial, but still persisted, saying that he must go in to

speak of some necessary affairs, whereupon Menedemus grew angry,

and replied that nothing was more necessary than the safety of

Lucullus, and forced him away with both hands.  Upon which, out of

fear, he straightaway left the camp, took horse, and without effect

returned to Mithridates.  Thus in action as in physic, it is the

critical moment that gives both the fortunate and the fatal effect.

After this, Sornatius being sent out with ten companies for forage,

and pursued by Menander, one of Mithridates's captains, stood his

ground, and after a sharp engagement, routed and slew a

considerable number of the enemy.  Adrianus being sent afterward,

with some forces, to procure food enough and to spare for the camp,

Mithridates did not let the opportunity slip, but dispatched

Menemachus and Myro, with a great force, both horse and foot,

against him, all which except two men, it is stated, were cut off

by the Romans.  Mithridates concealed the loss, giving it out that

it was a small defeat, nothing near so great as reported, and

occasioned by the unskillfulness of the leaders.  But Adrianus in

great pomp passed by his camp, having many wagons full of corn and

other booty, filling Mithridates with distress, and the army with

confusion and consternation.  It was resolved, therefore, to stay

no longer.  But when the king's servants sent away their own goods

quietly, and hindered others from doing so too, the soldiers in

great fury thronged and crowded to the gates, seized on the king's

servants and killed them, and plundered the baggage.  Dorylaus, the

general, in this confusion, having nothing else besides his purple

cloak, lost his life for that, and Hermaeus, the priest, was trod

underfoot in the gate.

Mithridates, having not one of his guards, nor even a groom

remaining with him, got out of the camp in the throng, but had none

of his horses with him; until Ptolemy, the eunuch, some little time

after, seeing him in the press making his way among the others,

dismounted and gave his horse to the king.  The Romans were already

close upon him in their pursuit, nor was it through want of speed

that they failed to catch him, but they were as near as possible

doing so.  But greediness and a petty military avarice hindered

them from acquiring that booty, which in so many fights and hazards

they had sought after, and lost Lucullus the prize of his victory.

For the horse which carried the king was within reach, but one of

the mules that carried the treasure either by accident stepping in,

or by order of the king so appointed to go between him and the

pursuers, they seized and pilfered the gold, and falling out among

themselves about the prey, let slip the great prize.  Neither was

their greediness prejudicial to Lucullus in this only, but also

they slew Callistratus, the king's confidential attendant, under

suspicion of having five hundred pieces of gold in his girdle;

whereas Lucullus had specially ordered that he should be conveyed

safe into the camp.  Notwithstanding all which, he gave them leave

to plunder the camp.

After this, in Cabira, and other strong-holds which he took, he

found great treasures, and private prisons, in which many Greeks

and many of the king's relations had been confined, who, having

long since counted themselves no other than dead men, by the favor

of Lucullus, met not with relief so truly as with a new life and

second birth.  Nyssa, also, sister of Mithridates, enjoyed the like

fortunate captivity; while those who seemed to be most out of

danger, his wives and sisters at Phernacia, placed in safety, as

they thought, miserably perished, Mithridates in his flight sending

Bacchides the eunuch to them.  Among others there were two sisters

of the king, Roxana and Statira, unmarried women forty years old,

and two Ionian wives, Berenice of Chios, and Monime of Miletus.

This latter was the most celebrated among the Greeks, because she

so long withstood the king in his courtship to her, though he

presented her with fifteen thousand pieces of gold, until a

covenant of marriage was made, and a crown was sent her, and she

was saluted queen.  She had been a sorrowful woman before, and

often bewailed her beauty, that had procured her a keeper, instead

of a husband, and a watch of barbarians, instead of the home and

attendance of a wife; and, removed far from Greece, she enjoyed the

pleasure which she proposed to herself, only in a dream, being in

the meantime robbed of that which is real.  And when Bacchides

came and bade them prepare for death, as everyone thought most

easy and painless, she took the diadem from her head, and fastening

the string to her neck, suspended herself with it; which soon

breaking, "O wretched headband!" said she, "not able to help me

even in this small thing!"  And throwing it away she spat on it,

and offered her throat to Bacchides.  Berenice had prepared a

potion for herself, but at her mother's entreaty, who stood by, she

gave her part of it.  Both drank of the potion, which prevailed

over the weaker body.  But Berenice, having drunk too little, was

not released by it, but lingering on unable to die, was strangled

by Bacchides for haste.  It is said that one of the unmarried

sisters drank the poison, with bitter execrations and curses; but

Statira uttered nothing ungentle or reproachful, but, on the

contrary, commended her brother, who in his own danger neglected

not theirs, but carefully provided that they might go out of the

world without shame or disgrace.

Lucullus, being a good and humane man, was concerned at these

things.  However, going on he came to Talaura, from whence four

days before his arrival Mithridates had fled, and was got to

Tigranes in Armenia.  He turned off, therefore, and subdued the

Chaldeans and Tibarenians, with the lesser Armenia, and having

reduced all their forts and cities, he sent Appius to Tigranes to

demand Mithridates.  He himself went to Amisus, which still held

out under the command of Callimachus, who, by his great engineering

skill, and his dexterity at all the shifts and subtleties of a

siege, had greatly incommoded the Romans.  For which afterward he

paid dear enough, and was now out-maneuvered by Lucullus, who,

unexpectedly coming upon him at the time of the day when the

soldiers used to withdraw and rest themselves, gained part of the

wall, and forced him to leave the city, in doing which he fired it;

either envying the Romans the booty, or to secure his own escape

the better.  No man looked after those who went off in the ships,

but as soon as the fire had seized on most part of the wall, the

soldiers prepared themselves for plunder; while Lucullus, pitying

the ruin of the city, brought assistance from without, and

encouraged his men to extinguish the flames.  But all, being intent

upon the prey, and giving no heed to him, with loud outcries beat

and clashed their arms together, until he was compelled to let them

plunder, that by that means he might at least save the city from

fire.  But they did quite the contrary, for in searching the houses

with lights and torches everywhere, they were themselves the cause

of the destruction of most of the buildings, insomuch that when

Lucullus the next day went in, he shed tears, and said to his

friends, that he had often before blessed the fortune of Sylla but

never so much admired it as then, because when he was willing, he

was also able to save Athens, "but my infelicity is such, that

while I endeavor to imitate him, I become like Mummius."

Nevertheless, he endeavored to save as much of the city as he

could, and at the same time, also, by a happy providence, a fall of

rain concurred to extinguish the fire.  He himself while present

repaired the ruins as much as he could, receiving back the

inhabitants who had fled, and settling as many other Greeks as were

willing to live there, adding a hundred and twenty furlongs of

ground to the place.

This city was a colony of Athens, built at that time when she

flourished and was powerful at sea, upon which account many who

fled from Aristion's tyranny settled here, and were admitted as

citizens, but had the ill-luck to fly from evils at home, into

greater abroad.  As many of these as survived, Lucullus furnished

every one with clothes, and two hundred drachmas, and sent them

away into their own country.  On this occasion, Tyrannion the

grammarian was taken.  Murena begged him of Lucullus, and took him

and made him a freedman; but in this he abused Lucullus's favor,

who by no means liked that a man of high repute for learning should

be first made a slave, and then freed; for freedom thus speciously

granted again, was a real deprivation of what he had before.  But

not in this case alone Murena showed himself far inferior in

generosity to the general.  Lucullus was now busy in looking after

the cities of Asia, and having no war to divert his time, spent it

in the administration of law and justice, the want of which had for

a long time left the province a prey to unspeakable and incredible

miseries; so plundered and enslaved by tax-farmers and usurers,

that private people were compelled to sell their sons in the flower

of their youth, and their daughters in their virginity, and the

States publicly to sell their consecrated gifts, pictures, and

statues.  In the end their lot was to yield themselves up slaves to

their creditors, but before this, worse troubles befell them,

tortures, inflicted with ropes and by horses, standing abroad to be

scorched when the sun was hot, and being driven into ice and clay

in the cold; insomuch that slavery was no less than a redemption

and joy to them.  Lucullus in a short time freed the cities from

all these evils and oppressions; for, first of all, he ordered

there should be no more taken than one percent.  Secondly, where

the interest exceeded the principal, he struck it off.  The third,

and most considerable order was, that the creditor should receive

the fourth part of the debtor's income; but if any lender had added

the interest to the principal, it was utterly disallowed.

Insomuch, that in the space of four years all debts were paid, and

lands returned to their right owners.  The public debt was

contracted when Asia was fined twenty thousand talents by Sylla,

but twice as much was paid to the collectors, who by their usury

had by this time advanced it to a hundred and twenty thousand

talents.  And accordingly they inveighed against Lucullus at Rome,

as grossly injured by him, and by their money's help, (as, indeed,

they were very powerful, and had many of the statesmen in their

debt,) they stirred up several leading men against

him.  But Lucullus was not only beloved by the cities which he

obliged, but was also wished for by other provinces, who blessed

the good-luck of those who had such a governor over them.

Appius Clodius, who was sent to Tigranes, (the same Clodius was

brother to Lucullus's wife,) being led by the king's guides, a

roundabout way, unnecessarily long and tedious, through the upper

country, being informed by his freedman, a Syrian by nation, of the

direct road, left that lengthy and fallacious one; and bidding the

barbarians, his guides, adieu, in a few days passed over Euphrates,

and came to Antioch upon Daphne.  There being commanded to wait for

Tigranes, who at that time was reducing some towns in Phoenicia, he

won over many chiefs to his side, who unwillingly submitted to the

king of Armenia, among whom was Zarbienus, king of the Gordyenians;

also many of the conquered cities corresponded privately with him,

whom he assured of relief from Lucullus, but ordered them to lie

still at present.  The Armenian government was an oppressive one,

and intolerable to the Greeks, especially that of the present king,

who, growing insolent and overbearing with his success, imagined

all things valuable and esteemed among men not only were his in

fact, but had been purposely created for him alone.  From a small

and inconsiderable beginning, he had gone on to be the conqueror of

many nations, had humbled the Parthian power more than any before

him, and filled Mesopotamia with Greeks, whom he carried in numbers

out of Cilicia and Cappadocia.  He transplanted also the Arabs, who

lived in tents, from their country and home, and settled them near

him, that by their means he might carry on the trade.

He had many kings waiting on him, but four he always carried with

him as servants and guards, who, when he rode, ran by his horse's

side in ordinary under-frocks, and attended him, when sitting on

his throne, and publishing his decrees to the people, with their

hands folded together; which posture of all others was that which

most expressed slavery, it being that of men who had bidden adieu

to liberty, and had prepared their bodies more for chastisement,

than the service of their masters.  Appius, nothing dismayed or

surprised at this theatrical display, as soon as audience was

granted him, said he came to demand Mithridates for Lucullus's

triumph, otherwise to denounce war against Tigranes, insomuch that

though Tigranes endeavored to receive him with a smooth countenance

and a forced smile, he could not dissemble his discomposure to

those who stood about him, at the bold language of the young man;

for it was the first time, perhaps, in twenty-five years, the

length of his reign, or, more truly, of his tyranny, that any free

speech had been uttered to him.  However, he made answer to Appius,

that he would not desert Mithridates, and would defend himself, if

the Romans attacked him.  He was angry, also, with Lucullus for

calling him only king in his letter, and not king of kings, and, in

his answer, would not give him his title of imperator.  Great gifts

were sent to Appius, which he refused; but on their being sent

again and augmented, that he might not seem to refuse in anger, he

took one goblet and sent the rest back, and without delay went off

to the general.

Tigranes before this neither vouchsafed to see nor speak with

Mithridates, though a near kinsman, and forced out of so

considerable a kingdom, but proudly and scornfully kept him at a

distance, as a sort of prisoner, in a marshy and unhealthy

district; but now, with much profession of respect and kindness, he

sent for him, and at a private conference between them in the

palace, they healed up all private jealousies between them,

punishing their favorites, who bore all the blame; among whom

Metrodorus of Scepsis was one, an eloquent and learned man, and so

close an intimate as commonly to be called the king's father.  This

man, as it happened, being employed in an embassy by Mithridates to

solicit help against the Romans, Tigranes asked him, "what would

you, Metrodorus, advise me to in this affair?"  In return to which,

either out of good-will to Tigranes, or a want of solicitude for

Mithridates, he made answer, that as ambassador he counseled him to

it, but as a friend dissuaded him from it.  This Tigranes reported,

and affirmed to Mithridates, thinking that no irreparable harm

would come of it to Metrodorus.  But upon this he was presently

taken off, and Tigranes was sorry for what he had done, though he

had not, indeed, been absolutely the cause of his death; yet he had

given the fatal turn to the anger of Mithridates, who had privately

hated him before, as appeared from his cabinet papers when taken,

among which there was an order that Metrodorus should die.

Tigranes buried him splendidly, sparing no cost to his dead body,

whom he betrayed when alive.  In Tigranes's court died, also,

Amphicrates the orator, (if, for the sake of Athens, we may also

mention him,) of whom it is told that he left his country and fled

to Seleucia, upon the river Tigris, and, being desired to teach

logic among them, arrogantly replied, that the dish was too little

to hold a dolphin.  He, therefore, came to Cleopatra, daughter of

Mithridates, and queen to Tigranes, but being accused of

misdemeanors, and prohibited all commerce with his countrymen,

ended his days by starving himself.  He, in like manner, received

from Cleopatra an honorable burial, near Sapha, a place so called

in that country.

Lucullus, when he had reestablished law and a lasting peace in

Asia, did not altogether forget pleasure and mirth, but, during his

residence at Ephesus, gratified the cities with sports, festival

triumphs, wrestling games and single combats of gladiators.  And

they, in requital, instituted others, called Lucullean games, in

honor to him, thus manifesting their love to him, which was of more

value to him than all the honor.  But when Appius came to him, and

told him he must prepare for war with Tigranes, he went again into

Pontus, and, gathering together his army, besieged Sinope, or

rather the Cilicians of the king's side who held it; who thereupon

killed a number of the Sinopians, and set the city on fire, and by

night endeavored to escape.  Which when Lucullus perceived, he

entered the city, and killed eight thousand of them who were still

left behind; but restored to the inhabitants what was their own,

and took special care for the welfare of the city.  To which he was

chiefly prompted by this vision.  One seemed to come to him in his

sleep, and say, "Go on a little further, Lucullus, for Autolycus is

coming to see thee."  When he arose, he could not imagine what the

vision meant.  The same day he took the city, and as he was

pursuing the Cilicians, who were flying by sea, he saw a statue

lying on the shore, which the Cilicians carried so far, but had not

time to carry aboard.  It was one of the masterpieces of Sthenis.

And one told him, that it was the statue of Autolycus, the founder

of the city.  This Autolycus is reported to have been son to

Deimachus, and one of those who, under Hercules, went on the

expedition out of Thessaly against the Amazons; from whence in his

return with Demoleon and Phlogius, he lost his vessel on a point of

the Chersonesus, called Pedalium.  He himself, with his companions

and their weapons, being saved, came to Sinope, and dispossessed

the Syrians there.  The Syrians held it, descended from Syrus, as

is the story, the son of Apollo, and Sinope the daughter of Asopus.

Which as soon as Lucullus heard, he remembered the admonition of

Sylla, whose advice it is in his Memoirs, to treat nothing as so

certain and so worthy of reliance as an intimation given in dreams.

When it was now told him that Mithridates and Tigranes were just

ready to transport their forces into Lycaonia and Cilicia, with the

object of entering Asia before him, he wondered much why the

Armenian, supposing him to entertain any real intention to fight

with the Romans, did not assist Mithridates in his flourishing

condition, and join forces when he was fit for service, instead of

suffering him to be vanquished and broken in pieces, and now at

last beginning the war, when his hopes were grown cold, and

throwing himself down headlong with them, who were irrecoverably

fallen already.  But when Machares, the son of Mithridates, and

governor of Bosporus, sent him a crown valued at a thousand pieces

of gold, and desired to be enrolled as a friend and confederate of

the Romans, he fairly reputed that war at an end, and left

Sornatius, his deputy, with six thousand soldiers, to take care of

Pontus.  He himself with twelve thousand foot, and a little less

than three thousand horse, went forth to the second war, advancing,

it seemed very plain, with too great and ill-advised speed, into

the midst of warlike nations, and many thousands upon thousands of

horse, into an unknown extent of country, every way enclosed with

deep rivers and mountains, never free from snow; which made the

soldiers, already far from orderly, follow him with great

unwillingness and opposition.  For the same reason, also, the

popular leaders at home publicly inveighed and declaimed against

him, as one that raised up war after war, not so much for the

interest of the republic, as that he himself, being still in

commission, might not lay down arms, but go on enriching himself by

the public dangers.  These men, in the end, effected their purpose.

But Lucullus by long journeys came to the Euphrates, where, finding

the waters high and rough from the winter, he was much troubled for

fear of delay and difficulty while he should procure boats and make

a bridge of them.  But in the evening the flood beginning to

retire, and decreasing all through the night, the next day they saw

the river far down within his banks, so much so that the

inhabitants, discovering the little islands in the river, and the

water stagnating among them, a thing which had rarely happened

before, made obeisance to Lucullus, before whom the very river was

humble and submissive, and yielded an easy and swift passage.

Making use of the opportunity, he carried over his army, and met

with a lucky sign at landing.  Holy heifers are pastured on purpose

for Diana Persia, whom, of all the gods, the barbarians beyond

Euphrates chiefly adore.  They use these heifers only for her

sacrifices.  At other times they wander up and down undisturbed,

with the mark of the goddess, a torch, branded on them; and it is

no such light or easy thing, when occasion requires, to seize one

of them.  But one of these, when the army had passed the Euphrates,

coming to a rock consecrated to the goddess, stood upon it, and

then laying down her neck, like others that are forced down with a

rope, offered herself to Lucullus for sacrifice.  Besides which, he

offered also a bull to Euphrates, for his safe passage.  That day

he tarried there, but on the next, and those that followed, he

traveled through Sophene, using no manner of violence to the people

who came to him and willingly received his army.  And when the

soldiers were desirous to plunder a castle that seemed to be well

stored within, "That is the castle," said he, "that we must storm,"

showing them Taurus, at a distance; "the rest is reserved for those

who conquer there."  Wherefore hastening his march, and passing the

Tigris, he came over into Armenia

The first messenger that gave notice of Lucullus's coming was so

far from pleasing Tigranes, that he had his head cut off for his

pains; and no man daring to bring further information, without any

intelligence at all, Tigranes sat while war was already blazing

around him, giving ear only to those who flattered him, by saying

that Lucullus would show himself a great commander, if he ventured

to wait for Tigranes at Ephesus, and did not at once fly out of

Asia, at the mere sight of the many thousands that were come

against him.  He is a man of a strong body that can carry off a

great quantity of wine, and of a powerful constitution of mind that

can sustain felicity.  Mithrobarzanes, one of his chief favorites,

first dared to tell him the truth, but had no more thanks for his

freedom of speech, than to be immediately sent out against Lucullus

with three thousand horse, and a great number of foot, with

peremptory commands to bring him alive, and trample down his army.

Some of Lucullus's men were then pitching their camp, and the rest

were coming up to them, when the scouts gave notice that the enemy

was approaching, whereupon he was in fear lest they should fall

upon him, while his men were divided and unarranged; which made him

stay to pitch the camp himself, and send out Sextilius, the legate,

with sixteen hundred horse, and about as many heavy and light arms,

with orders to advance towards the enemy, and wait until

intelligence came to him that the camp was finished.  Sextilius

designed to have kept this order; but Mithrobarzanes coming

furiously upon him, he was forced to fight.  In the engagement,

Mithrobarzanes himself was slain, fighting, and all his men, except

a few who ran away, were destroyed.  After this Tigranes left

Tigranocerta, a great city built by himself, and retired to Taurus,

and called all his forces about him.

But Lucullus, giving him no time to rendezvous, sent out Murena to

harass and cut off those who marched to Tigranes, and Sextilius,

also, to disperse a great company of Arabians then on the way to

the king.  Sextilius fell upon the Arabians in their camp, and

destroyed most of them, and also Murena, in his pursuit after

Tigranes through a craggy and narrow pass, opportunely fell upon

him.  Upon which Tigranes, abandoning all his baggage, fled; many

of the Armenians were killed, and more taken.  After this success,

Lucullus went to Tigranocerta, and sitting down before the city,

besieged it.  In it were many Greeks carried away out of Cilicia,

and many barbarians in like circumstances with the Greeks,

Adiabenians, Assyrians, Gordyenians, and Cappadocians, whose native

cities he had destroyed, and forced away the inhabitants to settle

here.  It was a rich and beautiful city; every common man, and

every man of rank, in imitation of the king, studied to enlarge and

adorn it.  This made Lucullus more vigorously press the siege, in

the belief that Tigranes would not patiently endure it, but even

against his own judgment would come down in anger to force him

away; in which he was not mistaken.  Mithridates earnestly

dissuaded him from it, sending messengers and letters to him not to

engage, but rather with his horse to try and cut off the supplies.

Taxiles, also, who came from Mithridates, and who stayed with his

army, very much entreated the king to forbear, and to avoid the

Roman arms, things it was not safe to meddle with.  To this he

hearkened at first, but when the Armenians and Gordyenians in a

full body, and the whole forces of Medes and Adiabenians, under

their respective kings, joined him; when many Arabians came up from

the sea beyond Babylon; and from the Caspian sea, the Albanians and

the Iberians their neighbors, and not a few of the free people,

without kings, living about the Araxes, by entreaty and hire also

came together to him; and all the king's feasts and councils rang

of nothing but expectations, boastings, and barbaric threatenings,

Taxiles went in danger of his life, for giving counsel against

fighting, and it was imputed to envy in Mithridates thus to

discourage him from so glorious an enterprise.  Therefore Tigranes

would by no means tarry for him, for fear he should share in the

glory, but marched on with all his army, lamenting to his friends,

as it is said, that he should fight with Lucullus alone, and not

with all the Roman generals together.  Neither was his boldness to

be accounted wholly frantic or unreasonable, when he had so many

nations and kings attending him, and so many tens of thousands of

well-armed foot and horse about him.  He had twenty thousand

archers and slingers, fifty-five thousand horse, of which seventeen

thousand were in complete armor, as Lucullus wrote to the senate, a

hundred and fifty thousand heavy-armed men, drawn up partly into

cohorts, partly into phalanxes, besides various divisions of men

appointed to make roads and lay bridges, to drain off waters and

cut wood, and to perform other necessary services, to the number of

thirty-five thousand, who, being quartered behind the army, added

to its strength, and made it the more formidable to behold.

As soon as he had passed Taurus, and appeared with his forces, and

saw the Romans beleaguering Tigranocerta, the barbarous people

within with shoutings and acclamations received the sight, and

threatening the Romans from the wall, pointed to the Armenians.  In

a council of war, some advised Lucullus to leave the siege, and

march up to Tigranes, others that it would not be safe to leave the

siege, and so many enemies behind.  He answered that neither side

by itself was right, but together both gave sound advice; and

accordingly he divided his army, and left Murena with six thousand

foot in charge of the siege, and himself went out with twenty-four

cohorts, in which were no more than ten thousand men at arms, and

with all the horse, and about a thousand slingers and archers; and

sitting down by the river in a large plain, he appeared, indeed,

very inconsiderable to Tigranes, and a fit subject for the

flattering wits about him.  Some of whom jeered, others cast lots

for the spoil, and every one of the kings and commanders came and

desired to undertake the engagement alone, and that he would be

pleased to sit still and behold.  Tigranes himself, wishing to be

witty and pleasant upon the occasion, made use of the well-known

saying, that they were too many for ambassadors, and too few for

soldiers.  Thus they continued sneering and scoffing.  As soon as

day came, Lucullus brought out his forces under arms.  The

barbarian army stood on the eastern side of the river, and there

being a bend of the river westward in that part of it, where it was

easiest forded, Lucullus, while he led his army on in haste, seemed

to Tigranes to be flying; who thereupon called Taxiles, and in

derision said, "Do you not see these invincible Romans flying?"

But Taxiles replied, "Would, indeed, O king, that some such

unlikely piece of fortune might be destined you; but the Romans do

not, when going on a march, put on their best clothes, nor use

bright shields, and naked headpieces, as now you see them, with the

leathern coverings all taken off, but this is a preparation for war

of men just ready to engage with their enemies."  While Taxiles was

thus speaking, as Lucullus wheeled about, the first eagle appeared,

and the cohorts, according to their divisions and companies, formed

in order to pass over, when with much ado, and like a man that is

just recovering from a drunken fit, Tigranes cried out twice or

thrice, "What, are they upon us?"  In great confusion, therefore,

the army got in array, the king keeping the main body to himself,

while the left wing was given in charge to the Adiabenian, and the

right to the Mede, in the front of which latter were posted most of

the heavy-armed cavalry.  Some officers advised Lucullus, just as

he was going to cross the river, to lie still, that day being one

of the unfortunate ones which they call black days, for on it the

army under Caepio, engaging with the Cimbrians, was destroyed.  But

he returned the famous answer, "I will make it a happy day to the

Romans."  It was the day before the nones of October.

Having so said, he bade them take courage, passed over the river,

and himself first of all led them against the enemy, clad in a coat

of mail, with shining steel scales and a fringed mantle; and his

sword might already be seen out of the scabbard, as if to signify

that they must without delay come to a hand-to-hand combat with an

enemy whose skill was in distant fighting, and by the speed of

their advance curtail the space that exposed them to the archery.

But when he saw the heavy-armed horse, the flower of the army,

drawn up under a hill, on the top of which was a broad and open

plain about four furlongs distant, and of no very difficult or

troublesome access, he commanded his Thracian and Galatian horse to

fall upon their flank, and beat down their lances with their

swords.  The only defense of these horsemen-at-arms are their

lances; they have nothing else that they can use to protect

themselves, or annoy their enemy, on account of the weight and

stiffness of their armor, with which they are, as it were, built

up.  He himself, with two cohorts, made to the mountain, the

soldiers briskly following, when they saw him in arms afoot first

toiling and climbing up.  Being on the top and standing in an open

place, with a loud voice he cried out, "We have overcome, we have

overcome, fellow-soldiers!"  And having so said, he marched against

the armed horsemen, commanding his men not to throw their javelins,

but coming up hand to hand with the enemy, to hack their shins and

thighs, which parts alone were unguarded in these heavy-armed

horsemen.  But there was no need of this way of fighting, for they

stood not to receive the Romans, but with great clamor and worse

flight they and their heavy horses threw themselves upon the ranks

of the foot, before ever these could so much as begin the fight,

insomuch that without a wound or bloodshed, so many thousands were

overthrown.  The greatest slaughter was made in the flight, or

rather in the endeavoring to fly away, which they could not well do

by reason of the depth and closeness of their own ranks, which

hindered them.  Tigranes at first fled with a few, but seeing his

son in the same misfortune, he took the diadem from his head, and

with tears gave it him, bidding him save himself by some other road

if he could.  But the young man, not daring to put it on, gave it

to one of his trustiest servants to keep for him.  This man, as it

happened, being taken, was brought to Lucullus, and so, among the

captives, the crown, also, of Tigranes was taken.  It is stated

that above a hundred thousand foot were lost, and that of the horse

but very few escaped at all.  Of the Romans, a hundred were

wounded, and five killed.  Antiochus the philosopher, making

mention of this fight in his book about the gods, says that the sun

never saw the like.  Strabo, a second philosopher, in his

historical collection says, that the Romans could not but blush and

deride themselves, for putting on armor against such pitiful

slaves.  Livy also says, that the Romans never fought an enemy with

such unequal forces, for the conquerors were not so much as one

twentieth part of the number of the conquered.  The most sagacious

and experienced Roman commanders made it a chief commendation of

Lucullus, that he had conquered two great and potent kings by two

most opposite ways, haste and delay.  For he wore out the

flourishing power of Mithridates by delay and time, and crushed

that of Tigranes by haste; being one of the rare examples of

generals who made use of delay for active achievement, and speed

for security.

On this account it was that Mithridates had made no haste to come

up to fight, imagining Lucullus would, as he had done before, use

caution and delay, which made him march at his leisure to join

Tigranes.  And first, as he began to meet some straggling Armenians

in the way, making off in great fear and consternation, he

suspected the worst, and when greater numbers of stripped and

wounded men met him and assured him of the defeat, he set out to

seek for Tigranes.  And finding him destitute and humiliated, he by

no means requited him with insolence, but alighting from his horse,

and condoling with him on their common loss, he gave him his own

royal guard to attend him, and animated him for the future.  And

they together gathered fresh forces about them.  In the city

Tigranocerta, the Greeks meantime, dividing from the barbarians,

sought to deliver it up to Lucullus, and he attacked and took it.

He seized on the treasure himself, but gave the city to be

plundered by the soldiers, in which were found, amongst other

property, eight thousand talents of coined money.  Besides this,

also, he distributed eight hundred drachmas to each man, out of the

spoils.  When he understood that many players were taken in the

city, whom Tigranes had invited from all parts for opening the

theater which he had built, he made use of them for celebrating his

triumphal games and spectacles.  The Greeks he sent home, allowing

them money for their journey, and the barbarians also, as many as

had been forced away from their own dwellings.  So that by this one

city being dissolved, many, by the restitution of their former

inhabitants, were restored.  By all of which Lucullus was beloved

as a benefactor and founder.  Other successes, also, attended him,

such as he well deserved, desirous as he was far more of praise for

acts of justice and clemency, than for feats in war, these being

due partly to the soldiers, and very greatly to fortune, while

those are the sure proofs of a gentle and liberal soul; and by such

aids Lucullus, at that time, even without the help of arms,

succeeded in reducing the barbarians.  For the kings of the

Arabians came to him, tendering what they had, and with them the

Sophenians also submitted.  And he so dealt with the Gordyenians,

that they were willing to leave their own habitations, and to

follow him with their wives and children.  Which was for this

cause.  Zarbienus, king of the Gordyenians, as has been told, being

impatient under the tyranny of Tigranes, had by Appius secretly

made overtures of confederacy with Lucullus, but, being discovered,

was executed, and his wife and children with him, before the Romans

entered Armenia.  Lucullus forgot not this, but coming to the

Gordyenians made a solemn interment in honor of Zarbienus, and

adorning the funeral pile with royal robes, and gold, and the

spoils of Tigranes, he himself in person kindled the fire, and

poured in perfumes with the friends and relations of the deceased,

calling him his companion and the confederate of the Romans.  He

ordered, also, a costly monument to be built for him.  There was a

large treasure of gold and silver found in Zarbienus's palace, and

no less than three million measures of corn, so that the soldiers

were provided for, and Lucullus had the high commendation of

maintaining the war at its own charge, without receiving one

drachma from the public treasury.

After this came an embassy from the king of Parthia to him,

desiring amity and confederacy; which being readily embraced by

Lucullus, another was sent by him in return to the Parthian, the

members of which discovered him to be a double-minded man, and to

be dealing privately at the same time with Tigranes, offering to

take part with him, upon condition Mesopotamia were delivered up to

him.  Which as soon as Lucullus understood, he resolved to pass by

Tigranes and Mithridates as antagonists already overcome, and to

try the power of Parthia, by leading his army against them,

thinking it would be a glorious result, thus in one current of war,

like an athlete in the games, to throw down three kings one after

another, and successively to deal as a conqueror with three of the

greatest powers under heaven.  He sent, therefore, into Pontus to

Sornatius and his colleagues, bidding them bring the army thence,

and join with him in his expedition out of Gordyene.  The soldiers

there, however, who had been restive and unruly before, now openly

displayed their mutinous temper.  No manner of entreaty or force

availed with them, but they protested and cried out that they would

stay no longer even there, but would go away and desert Pontus.

The news of which, when reported to Lucullus, did no small harm to

the soldiers about him, who were already corrupted with wealth and

plenty, and desirous of ease.  And on hearing the boldness of the

others, they called them men, and declared they themselves ought to

follow their example, for the actions which they had done did now

well deserve release from service, and repose.

Upon these and worse words, Lucullus gave up the thoughts of

invading Parthia, and in the height of summertime, went against

Tigranes.  Passing over Taurus, he was filled with apprehension at

the greenness of the fields before him, so long is the season

deferred in this region by the coldness of the air.  But,

nevertheless, he went down, and twice or thrice putting to flight

the Armenians who dared to come out against him, he plundered and

burnt their villages, and seizing on the provision designed for

Tigranes, reduced his enemies to the necessity which he had feared

for himself.  But when, after doing all he could to provoke the

enemy to fight, by drawing entrenchments round their camp and by

burning the country before them, he could by no means bring them to

venture out, after their frequent defeats before, he rose up and

marched to Artaxata, the royal city of Tigranes, where his wives

and young children were kept, judging that Tigranes would never

suffer that to go without the hazard of a battle.  It is related

that Hannibal, the Carthaginian, after the defeat of Antiochus by

the Romans, coming to Artaxas, king of Armenia, pointed out to him

many other matters to his advantage, and observing the great

natural capacities and the pleasantness of the site, then lying

unoccupied and neglected, drew a model of a city for it, and

bringing Artaxas thither, showed it to him and encouraged him to

build.  At which the king being pleased, and desiring him to

oversee the work, erected a large and stately city, which was

called after his own name, and made metropolis of Armenia.

And in fact, when Lucullus proceeded against it, Tigranes no longer

suffered it, but came with his army, and on the fourth day sat down

by the Romans, the river Arsanias lying between them, which of

necessity Lucullus must pass in his march to Artaxata.  Lucullus,

after sacrifice to the gods, as if victory were already obtained,

carried over his army, having twelve cohorts in the first division

in front, the rest being disposed in the rear to prevent the

enemy's enclosing them.  For there were many choice horse drawn up

against him; in the front stood the Mardian horse-archers, and

Iberians with long spears, in whom, being the most warlike,

Tigranes more confided than in any other of his foreign troops.

But nothing of moment was done by them, for though they skirmished

with the Roman horse at a distance, they were not able to stand

when the foot came up to them; but being broken, and flying on both

sides, drew the horse in pursuit after them.  Though these were

routed, yet Lucullus was not without alarm when he saw the cavalry

about Tigranes with great bravery and in large numbers coming upon

him; he recalled his horse from pursuing, and he himself, first of

all, with the best of his men, engaged the Satrapenians who were

opposite him, and before ever they came to close fight, routed them

with the mere terror.  Of three kings in battle against him,

Mithridates of Pontus fled away the most shamefully, being not so

much as able to endure the shout of the Romans.  The pursuit

reached a long way, and all through the night the Romans slew and

took prisoners, and carried off spoils and treasure, till they were

weary.  Livy says there were more taken and destroyed in the first

battle, but in the second, men of greater distinction.

Lucullus, flushed and animated by this victory, determined to march

on into the interior and there complete his conquests over the

barbarians; but winter weather came on, contrary to expectation, as

early as the autumnal equinox, with storms and frequent snows and,

even in the most clear days, hoar frost and ice, which made the

waters scarcely drinkable for the horses by their exceeding

coldness, and scarcely passable through the ice breaking and

cutting the horses' sinews.  The country for the most part being

quite uncleared, with difficult passes, and much wood, kept them

continually wet, the snow falling thickly on them as they marched

in the day, and the ground that they lay upon at night being damp

and watery.  After the battle they followed Lucullus not many days

before they began to be refractory, first of all entreating and

sending the tribunes to him, but presently they tumultuously

gathered together, and made a shouting all night long in their

tents, a plain sign of a mutinous army.  But Lucullus as earnestly

entreated them, desiring them to have patience but till they took

the Armenian Carthage, and overturned the work of their great

enemy, meaning Hannibal.  But when he could not prevail, he led

them back, and crossing Taurus by another road, came into the

fruitful and sunny country of Mygdonia, where was a great and

populous city, by the barbarians called Nisibis, by the Greeks

Antioch of Mygdonia.  This was defended by Guras, brother of

Tigranes, with the dignity of governor, and by the engineering

skill and dexterity of Callimachus, the same who so much annoyed

the Romans at Amisus.  Lucullus, however, brought his army up to

it, and laying close siege in a short time took it by storm.  He

used Guras, who surrendered himself, kindly, but gave no attention

to Callimachus, though he offered to make discovery of hidden

treasures, commanding him to be kept in chains, to be punished for

firing the city of Amisus, which had disappointed his ambition of

showing favor and kindness to the Greeks.

Hitherto, one would imagine fortune had attended and fought with

Lucullus, but afterward, as if the wind had failed of a sudden, he

did all things by force, and, as it were, against the grain; and

showed certainly the conduct and patience of a wise captain, but in

the result met with no fresh honor or reputation; and, indeed, by

bad success and vain embarrassments with his soldiers, he came

within a little of losing even what he had before.  He himself was

not the least cause of all this, being far from inclined to seek

popularity with the mass of the soldiers, and more ready to think

any indulgence shown to them an invasion of his own authority.  But

what was worst of all, he was naturally unsociable to his great

officers in commission with him, despising others and thinking them

worthy of nothing in comparison with himself.  These faults, we are

told, he had with all his many excellences; he was of a large and

noble person, an eloquent speaker and a wise counselor, both in the

forum and the camp.  Sallust says, the soldiers were ill affected

to him from the beginning of the war, because they were forced to

keep the field two winters at Cyzicus, and afterwards at Amisus.

Their other winters, also, vexed them, for they either spent them

in an enemy's country, or else were confined to their tents in the

open field among their confederates; for Lucullus not so much as

once went into a Greek confederate town with his army.  To this ill

affection abroad, the tribunes yet more contributed at home,

invidiously accusing Lucullus, as one who for empire and riches

prolonged the war, holding, it might almost be said, under his sole

power Cilicia, Asia, Bithynia, Paphlagonia, Pontus, Armenia, all as

far as the river Phasis; and now of late had plundered the royal

city of Tigranes, as if he had been commissioned not so much to

subdue, as to strip kings.  This is what we are told was said by

Lucius Quintius, one of the praetors, at whose instance, in

particular, the people determined to send one who should succeed

Lucullus in his province, and voted, also, to relieve many of the

soldiers under him from further service.

Besides these evils, that which most of all prejudiced Lucullus,

was Publius Clodius, an insolent man, very vicious and bold,

brother to Lucullus's wife, a woman of bad conduct, with whom

Clodius was himself suspected of criminal intercourse.  Being then

in the army under Lucullus, but not in as great authority as he

expected, (for he would fain have been the chief of all, but on

account of his character was postponed to many,) he ingratiated

himself secretly with the Fimbrian troops, and stirred them up

against Lucullus, using fair speeches to them, who of old had been

used to be flattered in such manner.  These were those whom Fimbria

before had persuaded to kill the consul Flaccus, and choose him

their leader.  And so they listened not unwillingly to Clodius, and

called him the soldiers' friend, for the concern he professed for

them, and the indignation he expressed at the prospect that "there

must be no end of war and toils, but in fighting with all nations,

and wandering throughout all the world they must wear out their

lives, receiving no other reward for their service than to guard

the carriages and camels of Lucullus, laden with gold and precious

goblets; while as for Pompey's soldiers, they were all citizens,

living safe at home with their wives and children, on fertile

lands, or in towns, and that, not after driving Mithridates and

Tigranes into wild deserts, and overturning the royal cities of

Asia, but after having merely reduced exiles in Spain, or fugitive

slaves in Italy.  Nay, if indeed we must never have an end of

fighting, should we not rather reserve the remainder of our bodies

and souls for a general who will reckon his chiefest glory to be

the wealth of his soldiers."

By such practices the army of Lucullus being corrupted, neither

followed him against Tigranes, nor against Mithridates, when he now

at once returned into Pontus out of Armenia, and was recovering his

kingdom, but under presence of the winter, sat idle in Gordyene,

every minute expecting either Pompey, or some other general, to

succeed Lucullus.  But when news came that Mithridates had defeated

Fabius, and was marching against Sornatius and Triarius, out of

shame they followed Lucullus.  Triarius, ambitiously aiming at

victory, before ever Lucullus came to him, though he was then very

near, was defeated in a great battle, in which it is said that

above seven thousand Romans fell, among whom were a hundred and

fifty centurions, and four and twenty tribunes, and that the camp

itself was taken.  Lucullus, coming up a few days after, concealed

Triarius from the search of the angry soldiers.  But when

Mithridates declined battle, and waited for the coming of Tigranes,

who was then on his march with great forces, he resolved before

they joined their forces to turn once more and engage with

Tigranes.  But in the way the mutinous Fimbrians deserted their

ranks, professing themselves released from service by a decree, and

that Lucullus, the provinces being allotted to others, had no

longer any right to command them.  There was nothing beneath the

dignity of Lucullus which he did not now submit to bear, entreating

them one by one, from tent to tent, going up and down humbly and in

tears, and even taking some like a suppliant, by the hand.  But

they turned away from his salutes, and threw down their empty

purses, bidding him engage alone with the enemy, as he alone made

advantage of it.  At length, by the entreaty of the other soldiers,

the Fimbrians, being prevailed upon, consented to tarry that summer

under him, but if during that time no enemy came to fight them, to

be free.  Lucullus of necessity was forced to comply with this, or

else to abandon the country to the barbarians.  He kept them,

indeed, with him, but without urging his authority upon them; nor

did he lead them out to battle, being contented if they would but

stay with him, though he then saw Cappadocia wasted by Tigranes,

and Mithridates again triumphing, whom not long before he reported

to the senate to be wholly subdued; and commissioners were now

arrived to settle the affairs of Pontus, as if all had been quietly

in his possession.  But when they came, they found him not so much

as master of himself, but contemned and derided by the common

soldiers, who arrived at that height of insolence against their

general, that at the end of summer they put on their armor and drew

their swords, and defied their enemies then absent and gone off a

long while before, and with great outcries and waving their swords

in the air, they quitted the camp, proclaiming that the time was

expired which they promised to stay with Lucullus.  The rest were

summoned by letters from Pompey to come and join him; he, by the

favor of the people and by flattery of their leaders, having been

chosen general of the army against Mithridates and Tigranes, though

the senate and the nobility all thought that Lucullus was injured,

having those put over his head who succeeded rather to his triumph,

than to his commission, and that he was not so truly deprived of

his command, as of the glory he had deserved in his command, which

he was forced to yield to another.

It was yet more of just matter of pity and indignation to those who

were present; for Lucullus remained no longer master of rewards or

punishments for any actions done in the war; neither would Pompey

suffer any man to go to him, or pay any respect to the orders and

arrangements he made with advice of his ten commissioners, but

expressly issued edicts to the contrary, and could not but be

obeyed by reason of his greater power.  Friends, however, on both

sides, thought it desirable to bring them together, and they met in

a village of Galatia and saluted each other in a friendly manner,

with congratulations on each other's successes.  Lucullus was the

elder, but Pompey the more distinguished by his more numerous

commands and his two triumphs.  Both had rods dressed with laurel

carried before them for their victories.  And as Pompey's laurels

were withered with passing through hot and droughty countries,

Lucullus's lictors courteously gave Pompey's some of the fresh and

green ones which they had, which Pompey's friends counted a good

omen, as indeed of a truth, Lucullus's actions furnished the honors

of Pompey's command.  The interview, however, did not bring them to

any amicable agreement; they parted even less friends than they

met.  Pompey repealed all the acts of Lucullus, drew off his

soldiers, and left him no more than sixteen hundred for his

triumph, and even those unwilling to go with him.  So wanting was

Lucullus, either through natural constitution or adverse

circumstances, in that one first and most important requisite of a

general, which had he but added to his other many and remarkable

virtues, his fortitude, vigilance, wisdom, justice, the Roman

empire had not had Euphrates for its boundary, but the utmost ends

of Asia and the Hyrcanian sea; as other nations were then disabled

by the late conquests of Tigranes, and the power of Parthia had not

in Lucullus's time shown itself so formidable as Crassus afterwards

found it, nor had as yet gained that consistency, being crippled by

wars at home, and on its frontiers, and unable even to make head

against the encroachments of the Armenians.  And Lucullus, as it

was, seems to me through others' agency to have done Rome greater

harm, than he did her advantage by his own.  For the trophies in

Armenia, near the Parthian frontier, and Tigranocerta, and Nisibis,

and the great wealth brought from thence to Rome, with the captive

crown of Tigranes carried in triumph, all helped to puff up

Crassus, as if the barbarians had been nothing else but spoil and

booty, and he, falling among the Parthian archers, soon

demonstrated that Lucullus's triumphs were not beholden to the

inadvertency and effeminacy of his enemies, but to his own courage

and conduct.  But of this afterwards.

Lucullus, upon his return to Rome, found his brother Marcus accused

by Caius Memmius, for his acts as quaestor, done by Sylla's orders;

and on his acquittal, Memmius changed the scene, and animated the

people against Lucullus himself, urging them to deny him a triumph

for appropriating the spoils and prolonging the war.  In this great

struggle, the nobility and chief men went down and mingling in

person among the tribes, with much entreaty and labor, scarce at

length prevailed upon them to consent to his triumph.  The pomp of

which proved not so wonderful or so wearisome with the length of

the procession and the number of things carried in it, but

consisted chiefly in vast quantities of arms and machines of the

king's, with which he adorned the Flaminian circus, a spectacle by

no means despicable.  In his progress there passed by a few

horsemen in heavy armor, ten chariots armed with scythes, sixty

friends and officers of the king's, and a hundred and ten

brazen-beaked ships of war, which were conveyed along with them, a

golden image of Mithridates six feet high, a shield set with

precious stones, twenty loads of silver vessels, and thirty-two of

golden cups, armor, and money, all carried by men.  Besides which,

eight mules were laden with golden couches, fifty-six with bullion,

and a hundred and seven with coined silver, little less than two

millions seven hundred thousand pieces.  There were tablets, also,

with inscriptions, stating what moneys he gave Pompey for

prosecuting the piratic war, what he delivered into the treasury,

and what he gave to every soldier, which was nine hundred and fifty

drachmas each.  After all which he nobly feasted the city and

adjoining villages, or vici.

Being divorced from Clodia, a dissolute and wicked woman, he

married Servilia, sister to Cato.  This also proved an unfortunate

match, for she only wanted one of all Clodia's vices, the

criminality she was accused of with her brothers.  Out of reverence

to Cato, he for a while connived at her impurity and immodesty, but

at length dismissed her.  When the senate expected great things

from him, hoping to find in him a check to the usurpations of

Pompey, and that with the greatness of his station and credit he

would come forward as the champion of the nobility, he retired from

business and abandoned public life; either because he saw the State

to be in a difficult and diseased condition, or, as others say,

because he was as great as he could well be, and inclined to a

quiet and easy life, after those many labors and toils which had

ended with him so far from fortunately.  There are those who highly

commend his change of life, saying that he thus avoided that rock

on which Marius split.  For he, after the great and glorious deeds

of his Cimbrian victories, was not contented to retire upon his

honors, but out of an insatiable desire of glory and power, even in

his old age, headed a political party against young men, and let

himself fall into miserable actions, and yet more miserable

sufferings.  Better, in like manner, they say, had it been for

Cicero, after Catiline's conspiracy, to have retired and grown old,

and for Scipio, after his Numantine and Carthaginian conquests, to

have sat down contented.  For the administration of public affairs

has, like other things, its proper term, and statesmen as well as

wrestlers will break down, when strength and youth fail.  But

Crassus and Pompey, on the other hand, laughed to see Lucullus

abandoning himself to pleasure and expense, as if luxurious living

were not a thing that as little became his years, as government of

affairs at home, or of an army abroad.

And, indeed, Lucullus's life, like the Old Comedy, presents us at

the commencement with acts of policy and of war, at the end

offering nothing but good eating and drinking, feastings and

revellings, and mere play.  For I give no higher name to his

sumptuous buildings, porticoes and baths, still less to his

paintings and sculptures, and all his industry about these

curiosities, which he collected with vast expense, lavishly

bestowing all the wealth and treasure which he got in the war upon

them, insomuch that even now, with all the advance of luxury, the

Lucullean gardens are counted the noblest the emperor has.  Tubero

the stoic, when he saw his buildings at Naples, where he suspended

the hills upon vast tunnels, brought in the sea for moats and

fish-ponds round his house, and built pleasure-houses in the

waters, called him Xerxes in a gown.  He had also fine seats in

Tusculum, belvederes, and large open balconies for men's

apartments, and porticoes to walk in, where Pompey coming to see

him, blamed him for making a house which would be pleasant in

summer but uninhabitable in winter; whom he answered with a smile,

"You think me, then, less provident than cranes and storks, not to

change my home with the season."  When a praetor, with great

expense and pains, was preparing a spectacle for the people, and

asked him to lend him some purple robes for the performers in a

chorus, he told him he would go home and see, and if he had got

any, would let him have them; and the next day asking how many he

wanted, and being told that a hundred would suffice, bade him to

take twice as many:  on which the poet Horace observes, that a

house is but a poor one, where the valuables unseen and unthought

of do not exceed all those that meet the eye.

Lucullus's daily entertainments were ostentatiously extravagant,

not only with purple coverlets, and plate adorned with precious

stones, and dancings, and interludes, but with the greatest

diversity of dishes and the most elaborate cookery, for the vulgar

to admire and envy.  It was a happy thought of Pompey in his

sickness, when his physician prescribed a thrush for his dinner,

and his servants told him that in summer time thrushes were not to

be found anywhere but in Lucullus's fattening coops, that he would

not suffer them to fetch one thence, but observing to his

physician, "So if Lucullus had not been an epicure, Pompey had not

lived," ordered something else that could easily be got to be

prepared for him.  Cato was his friend and connection, but,

nevertheless, so hated his life and habits, that when a young man

in the senate made a long and tedious speech in praise of frugality

and temperance, Cato got up and said, "How long do you mean to go

on making money like Crassus, living like Lucullus, and talking

like Cato?"  There are some, however, who say the words were said,

but not by Cato.

It is plain from the anecdotes on record of him, that Lucullus was

not only pleased with, but even gloried in his way of living.  For

he is said to have feasted several Greeks upon their coming to Rome

day after day, who, out of a true Grecian principle, being ashamed,

and declining the invitation, where so great an expense was every

day incurred for them, he with a smile told them, "Some of this,

indeed, my Grecian friends, is for your sakes, but more for that of

Lucullus."  Once when he supped alone, there being only one course,

and that but moderately furnished, he called his steward and

reproved him, who, professing to have supposed that there would be

no need of any great entertainment, when nobody was invited, was

answered, "What, did not you know, then, that to-day Lucullus dines

with Lucullus?"  Which being much spoken of about the city, Cicero

and Pompey one day met him loitering in the forum, the former his

intimate friend and familiar, and, though there had been some

ill-will between Pompey and him about the command in the war, still

they used to see each other and converse on easy terms together.

Cicero accordingly saluted him, and asked him whether to-day were a

good time for asking a favor of him, and on his answering, "Very

much so," and begging to hear what it was, "Then," said Cicero, "we

should like to dine with you today, just on the dinner that is

prepared for yourself."  Lucullus being surprised, and requesting a

day's time, they refused to grant it, neither suffered him to talk

with his servants, for fear he should give order for more than was

appointed before.  But thus much they consented to, that before

their faces he might tell his servant, that to-day he would sup in

the Apollo, (for so one of his best dining-rooms was called,) and

by this evasion he outwitted his guests.  For every room, as it

seems, had its own assessment of expenditure, dinner at such a

price, and all else in accordance; so that the servants, on knowing

where he would dine, knew also how much was to be expended, and in

what style and form dinner was to be served.  The expense for the

Apollo was fifty thousand drachmas, and thus much being that day

laid out, the greatness of the cost did not so much amaze Pompey

and Cicero, as the rapidity of the outlay.  One might believe

Lucullus thought his money really captive and barbarian, so

wantonly and contumeliously did he treat it.

His furnishing a library, however, deserves praise and record, for

he collected very many and choice manuscripts; and the use they

were put to was even more magnificent than the purchase, the

library being always open, and the walks and reading-rooms about it

free to all Greeks, whose delight it was to leave their other

occupations and hasten thither as to the habitation of the Muses,

there walking about, and diverting one another.  He himself often

passed his hours there, disputing with the learned in the walks,

and giving his advice to statesmen who required it, insomuch

that his house was altogether a home, and in a manner a Greek

prytaneum for those that visited Rome.  He was fond of all sorts of

philosophy, and was well-read and expert in them all.  But he

always from the first specially favored and valued the Academy; not

the New one which at that time under Philo flourished with the

precepts of Carneades, but the Old one, then sustained and

represented by Antiochus of Ascalon, a learned and eloquent man.

Lucullus with great labor made him his friend and companion, and

set him up against Philo's auditors, among whom Cicero was one, who

wrote an admirable treatise in defense of his sect, in which he

puts the argument in favor of comprehension in the mouth of

Lucullus, and the opposite argument in his own.  The book is called

Lucullus.  For as has been said, they were great friends, and took

the same side in politics.  For Lucullus did not wholly retire from

the republic, but only from ambition, and from the dangerous and

often lawless struggle for political preeminence, which he left to

Crassus and Cato, whom the senators, jealous of Pompey's greatness,

put forward as their champions, when Lucullus refused to head them.

For his friends' sake he came into the forum and into the senate,

when occasion offered to humble the ambition and pride of Pompey,

whose settlement, after his conquests over the kings, he got

canceled, and by the assistance of Cato, hindered a division of

lands to his soldiers, which he proposed.  So Pompey went over to

Crassus and Caesar's alliance, or rather conspiracy, and filling

the city with armed men, procured the ratification of his decrees

by force, and drove Cato and Lucullus out of the forum.  Which

being resented by the nobility, Pompey's party produced one

Vettius, pretending they apprehended him in a design against

Pompey's life.  Who in the senate-house accused others, but before

the people named Lucullus, as if he had been suborned by him to

kill Pompey.  Nobody gave heed to what he said, and it soon

appeared that they had put him forward to make false charges and

accusations.  And after a few days the whole intrigue became yet

more obvious, when the dead body of Vettius was thrown out of the

prison, he being reported, indeed, to have died a natural death,

but carrying marks of a halter and blows about him, and seeming

rather to have been taken off by those who suborned him.  These

things kept Lucullus at a greater distance from the republic.

But when Cicero was banished the city, and Cato sent to Cyprus, he

quitted public affairs altogether.  It is said, too, that before

his death, his intellects failed him by degrees.  But Cornelius

Nepos denies that either age or sickness impaired his mind, which

was rather affected by a potion, given him by Callisthenes his

freedman.  The potion was meant by Callisthenes to strengthen his

affection for him, and was supposed to have that tendency but it

acted quite otherwise, and so disabled and unsettled his mind, that

while he was yet alive, his brother took charge of his affairs.  At

his death, as though it had been the death of one taken off in the

very height of military and civil glory, the people were much

concerned, and flocked together, and would have forcibly taken his

corpse, as it was carried into the market-place by young men of the

highest rank, and have buried it in the field of Mars, where they

buried Sylla.  Which being altogether unexpected, and necessaries

not easily to be procured on a sudden, his brother, after much

entreaty and solicitation, prevailed upon them to suffer him to be

buried on his Tusculan estate as had been appointed.  He himself

survived him but a short time, coming not far behind in death, as

he did in age and renown, in all respects, a most loving brother.

COMPARISON OF LUCULLUS WITH CIMON

One might bless the end of Lucullus, which was so timed as to let

him die before the great revolution, which fate by intestine wars,

was already effecting against the established government, and to

close his life in a free though troubled commonwealth.  And in

this, above all other things, Cimon and he are alike.  For he died

also when Greece was as yet undisordered, in its highest felicity;

though in the field at the head of his army, not recalled, nor out

of his mind, nor sullying the glory of his wars, engagements, and

conquests, by making feastings and debauches seem the apparent end

and aim of them all; as Plato says scornfully of Orpheus, that he

makes an eternal debauch hereafter, the reward of those who lived

well here.  Indeed, ease and quiet, and the study of pleasant and

speculative learning, to an old man retiring from command and

office, is a most suitable and becoming solace; but to misguide

virtuous actions to pleasure as their utmost end, and, as the

conclusion of campaigns and commands, to keep the feast of Venus,

did not become the noble Academy, and the follower of Xenocrates,

but rather one that inclined to Epicurus.  And this its one

surprising point of contrast between them; Cimon's youth was ill-

reputed and intemperate Lucullus's well disciplined and sober.

Undoubtedly we must give the preference to the change for good,

for it argues the better nature, where vice declines and virtue

grows.  Both had great wealth, but employed it in different ways;

and there is no comparison between the south wall of the acropolis

built by Cimon, and the chambers and galleries, with their sea-

views, built at Naples by Lucullus, out of the spoils of the

barbarians.  Neither can we compare Cimon's popular and liberal

table with the sumptuous oriental one of Lucullus, the former

receiving a great many guests every day at small cost, the latter

expensively spread for a few men of pleasure, unless you will say

that different times made the alteration.  For who can tell but

that Cimon, if he had retired in his old age from business and war

to quiet and solitude, might have lived a more luxurious and self-

indulgent life, as he was fond of wine and company, and accused,

as has been said, of laxity with women?  The better pleasures

gained in successful action and effort leave the baser appetites

no time or place, and make active and heroic men forget them.  Had

but Lucullus ended his days in the field, and in command, envy and

detraction itself could never have accused him.  So much for their

manner of life.

In war, it is plain they were both soldiers of excellent conduct,

both at land and sea.  But as in the games they honor those

champions who on the same day gain the garland, both in wrestling

and in the pancratium, with the name of "Victors and more," so

Cimon, honoring Greece with a sea and land victory on the same

day, may claim a certain preeminence among commanders.  Lucullus

received command from his country, whereas Cimon brought it to

his.  He annexed the territories of enemies to her, who ruled over

confederates before, but Cimon made his country, which when he

began was a mere follower of others, both rule over confederates,

and conquer enemies too, forcing the Persians to relinquish the

sea, and inducing the Lacedaemonians to surrender their command.

If it be the chiefest thing in a general to obtain the obedience of

his soldiers by good-will, Lucullus was despised by his own army,

but Cimon highly prized even by others.  His soldiers deserted the

one, the confederates came over to the other.  Lucullus came home

without the forces which he led out; Cimon, sent out at first to

serve as one confederate among others, returned home with

authority even over these also, having successfully effected for

his city three most difficult services, establishing peace with

the enemy, dominion over confederates, and concord with

Lacedaemon.  Both aiming to destroy great kingdoms, and subdue all

Asia, failed in their enterprise, Cimon by a simple piece of ill-

fortune, for he died when general, in the height of success; but

Lucullus no man can wholly acquit of being in fault with his

soldiers, whether it were he did not know, or would not comply

with the distastes and complaints of his army, which brought him

at last into such extreme unpopularity among them.  But did not

Cimon also suffer like him in this?  For the citizens arraigned

him, and did not leave off till they had banished him, that, as

Plato says, they might not hear him for the space of ten years.

For high and noble minds seldom please the vulgar, or are

acceptable to them; for the force they use to straighten their

distorted actions gives the same pain as surgeons' bandages do in

bringing dislocated bones to their natural position.  Both of

them, perhaps, come off pretty much with an equal acquittal on

this count.

Lucullus very much outwent him in war being the first Roman who

carried an army over Taurus, passed the Tigris, took and burnt the

royal palaces of Asia in the sight of the kings, Tigranocerta,

Cabira, Sinope, and Nisibis, seizing and overwhelming the northern

parts as far as the Phasis, the east as far as Media, and making

the South and Red Sea his own through the kings of the Arabians.

He shattered the power of the kings, and narrowly missed their

persons, while like wild beasts they fled away into deserts and

thick and impassable woods.  In demonstration of this superiority,

we see that the Persians, as if no great harm had befallen them

under Cimon, soon after appeared in arms against the Greeks, and

overcame and destroyed their numerous forces in Egypt.  But after

Lucullus, Tigranes and Mithridates were able to do nothing; the

latter, being disabled and broken in the former wars, never dared

to show his army to Pompey outside the camp, but fled away to

Bosporus, and there died.  Tigranes threw himself, naked and

unarmed, down before Pompey, and taking his crown from his head,

laid it at his feet, complimenting Pompey with what was not his

own, but, in real truth, the conquest already effected by

Lucullus.  And when he received the ensigns of majesty again, he

was well pleased, evidently because he had forfeited them before.

And the commander, as the wrestler, is to be accounted to have

done most who leaves an adversary almost conquered for his

successor.  Cimon, moreover, when he took the command, found the

power of the king broken, and the spirits of the Persians humbled

by their great defeats and incessant routs under Themistocles,

Pausanias, and Leotychides, and thus easily overcame the bodies of

men whose souls were quelled and defeated beforehand.  But

Tigranes had never yet in many combats been beaten, and was flushed

with success when he engaged with Lucullus.  There is no comparison

between the numbers, which came against Lucullus, and those

subdued by Cimon.  All which things being rightly considered, it

is a hard matter to give judgment.  For supernatural favor also

appears to have attended both of them, directing the one what to

do, the other what to avoid, and thus they have, both of them, so

to say, the vote of the gods, to declare them noble and divine

characters.

NICIAS

Crassus, in my opinion, may most properly be set against Nicias,

and the Parthian disaster compared with that in Sicily.  But here

it will be well for me to entreat the reader, in all courtesy, not

to think that I contend with Thucydides in matters so pathetically,

vividly, and eloquently, beyond all imitation, and even beyond

himself, expressed by him; nor to believe me guilty of the like

folly with Timaeus, who, hoping in his history to surpass

Thucydides in art, and to make Philistus appear a trifler and a

novice, pushes on in his descriptions, through all the battles,

sea-fights, and public speeches, in recording which they have been

most successful, without meriting so much as to be compared in

Pindar's phrase, to

One that on his feet

Would with the Lydian cars compete.

He simply shows himself all along a half-lettered, childish writer;

in the words of Diphilus,

— of wit obese,

O'erlarded with Sicilian grease.

Often he sinks to the very level of Xenarchus, telling us that he

thinks it ominous to the Athenians that their

general, who had victory in his name, was unwilling to take

command in the expedition; and that the defacing of the Hermae was

a divine intimation that they should suffer much in the war by

Hermocrates, the son of Hermon; and, moreover, how it was likely

that Hercules should aid the Syracusans for the sake of Proserpine,

by whose means he took Cerberus, and should be angry with the

Athenians for protecting the Egesteans, descended from Trojan

ancestors, whose city he, for an injury of their king Laomedon, had

overthrown.  However, all these may be merely other instances of

the same happy taste that makes him correct the diction of

Philistus, and abuse Plato and Aristotle.  This sort of contention

and rivalry with others in matter of style, to my mind, in any

case, seems petty and pedantic, but when its objects are works of

inimitable excellence, it is absolutely senseless.  Such actions in

Nicias's life as Thucydides and Philistus have related, since they

cannot be passed by, illustrating as they do most especially his

character and temper, under his many and great troubles, that I may

not seem altogether negligent, I shall briefly run over.  And such

things as are not commonly known, and lie scattered here and there

in other men's writings, or are found amongst the old monuments and

archives, I shall endeavor to bring together; not collecting mere

useless pieces of learning, but adducing what may make his

disposition and habit of mind understood.

First of all, I would mention what Aristotle has said of Nicias,

that there had been three good citizens, eminent above the rest for

their hereditary affection and love to the people, Nicias the son

of Niceratus, Thucydides the son of Melesias, and Theramenes the

son of Hagnon, but the last less than the others; for he had his

dubious extraction cast in his teeth, as a foreigner from Ceos, and

his inconstancy, which made him side sometimes with one party,

sometimes with another in public life, and which obtained him the

nickname of the Buskin.

Thucydides came earlier, and, on the behalf of the nobility, was a

great opponent of the measures by which Pericles courted the favor

of the people.

Nicias was a younger man, yet was in some reputation even whilst

Pericles lived; so much so as to have been his colleague in the

office of general, and to have held command by himself more than

once.  But on the death of Pericles, he presently rose to the

highest place, chiefly by the favor of the rich and eminent

citizens, who set him up for their bulwark against the presumption

and insolence of Cleon; nevertheless, he did not forfeit the

good-will of the commonalty, who, likewise, contributed to his

advancement.  For though Cleon got great influence by his exertions

— to please

The old men, who trusted him to find them fees.

Yet even those, for whose interest, and to gain whose favor he

acted, nevertheless observing the avarice, the arrogance, and the

presumption of the man, many of them supported Nicias.  For his was

not that sort of gravity which is harsh and offensive, but he

tempered it with a certain caution and deference, winning upon the

people, by seeming afraid of them.  And being naturally diffident

and unhopeful in war, his good fortune supplied his want of

courage, and kept it from being detected, as in all his commands he

was constantly successful.  And his timorousness in civil life, and

his extreme dread of accusers, was thought very suitable in a

citizen of a free State; and from the people's good-will towards

him, got him no small power over them, they being fearful of all

that despised them, but willing to promote one who seemed to be

afraid of them; the greatest compliment their betters could pay

them being not to contemn them.

Pericles, who by solid virtue and the pure force of argument ruled

the commonwealth, had stood in need of no disguises nor persuasions

with the people.  Nicias, inferior in these respects, used his

riches, of which he had abundance, to gain popularity.  Neither had

he the nimble wit of Cleon, to win the Athenians to his purposes by

amusing them with bold jests; unprovided with such qualities, he

courted them with dramatic exhibitions, gymnastic games, and other

public shows, more sumptuous and more splendid than had been ever

known in his, or in former ages.  Amongst his religious offerings,

there was extant, even in our days, the small figure of Minerva in

the citadel, having lost the gold that covered it; and a shrine in

the temple of Bacchus, under the tripods, that were presented by

those who won the prize in the shows of plays.  For at these he had

often carried off the prize, and never once failed.  We are told

that on one of these occasions, a slave of his appeared in the

character of Bacchus, of a beautiful person and noble stature, and

with as yet no beard upon his chin; and on the Athenians being

pleased with the sight, and applauding a long time, Nicias stood

up, and said he could not in piety keep as a slave, one whose

person had been consecrated to represent a god.  And forthwith he

set the young man free.  His performances at Delos are, also, on

record, as noble and magnificent works of devotion.  For whereas

the choruses which the cities sent to sing hymns to the god were

wont to arrive in no order, as it might happen, and, being there

met by a crowd of people crying out to them to sing, in their hurry

to begin, used to disembark confusedly, putting on their garlands,

and changing their dresses as they left the ships, he, when he had

to convoy the sacred company, disembarked the chorus at Rhenea,

together with the sacrifice, and other holy appurtenances.  And

having brought along with him from Athens a bridge fitted by

measurement for the purpose, and magnificently adorned with gilding

and coloring, and with garlands and tapestries; this he laid in the

night over the channel betwixt Rhenea and Delos, being no great

distance.  And at break of day he marched forth with all the

procession to the god, and led the chorus, sumptuously ornamented,

and singing their hymns, along over the bridge.  The sacrifices,

the games, and the feast being over, he set up a palm-tree of brass

for a present to the god, and bought a parcel of land with ten

thousand drachmas which he consecrated; with the revenue the

inhabitants of Delos were to sacrifice and to feast, and to pray

the gods for many good things to Nicias.  This he engraved on a

pillar, which he left in Delos to be a record of his bequest.  This

same palm-tree, afterwards broken down by the wind, fell on the

great statue which the men of Naxos presented, and struck it to the

ground.

It is plain that much of this might be vainglory, and the mere

desire of popularity and applause; yet from other qualities and

carriage of the man, one might believe all this cost and public

display to be the effect of devotion.  For he was one of those who

dreaded the divine powers extremely, and, as Thucydides tells us,

was much given to arts of divination.  In one of Pasiphon's

dialogues, it is stated that he daily sacrificed to the gods, and

keeping a diviner at his house, professed to be consulting always

about the commonwealth, but for the most part, inquired about his

own private affairs, more especially concerning his silver mines;

for he owned many works at Laurium, of great value, but somewhat

hazardous to carry on.  He maintained there a multitude of slaves,

and his wealth consisted chiefly in silver.  Hence he had many

hangers-on about him, begging and obtaining.  For he gave to those

who could do him mischief, no less than to those who deserved well.

In short, his timidity was a revenue to rogues, and his humanity to

honest men.  We find testimony in the comic writers, as when

Teleclides, speaking of one of the professed informers, says: —

Charicles gave the man a pound, the matter not to name,

That from inside a money-bag into the world he came;

And Nicias, also, paid him four; I know the reason well,

But Nicias is a worthy man, and so I will not tell.

So, also, the informer whom Eupolis introduces in his Maricas,

attacking a good, simple, poor man: —

How long ago did you and Nicias meet?

I did but see him just now in the street.

The man has seen him and denies it not,

'Tis evident that they are in a plot.

See you, O citizens! 'tis fact,

Nicias is taken in the act.

Taken, Fools! take so good a man

In aught that's wrong none will or can.

Cleon, in Aristophanes, makes it one of his threats: —

I'll outscream all the speakers, and make Nicias stand aghast!

Phrynichus also implies his want of spirit, and his easiness to be

intimidated in the verses,

A noble man he was, I well can say,

Nor walked like Nicias, cowering on his way.

So cautious was he of informers, and so reserved, that he never

would dine out with any citizen, nor allowed himself to indulge in

talk and conversation with his friends, nor gave himself any

leisure for such amusements; but when he was general he used to

stay at the office till night, and was the first that came to the

council-house, and the last that left it.  And if no public

business engaged him, it was very hard to have access, or to speak

with him, he being retired at home and locked up.  And when any

came to the door, some friend of his gave them good words, and

begged them to excuse him, Nicias was very busy; as if affairs of

State and public duties still kept him occupied.  He who

principally acted this part for him, and contributed most to this

state and show, was Hiero, a man educated in Nicias's family, and

instructed by him in letters and music.  He professed to be the son

of Dionysius, surnamed Chalcus, whose poems are yet extant, and had

led out the colony to Italy, and founded Thurii.  This Hiero

transacted all his secrets for Nicias with the dinners; and gave

out to the people, what a toilsome and miserable life he led, for

the sake of the commonwealth.  "He," said Hiero, "can never be

either at the bath, or at his meat, but some public business

interferes.  Careless of his own, and zealous for the public good,

he scarcely ever goes to bed till after others have had their first

sleep.  So that his health is impaired, and his body out of order,

nor is he cheerful or affable with his friends, but loses them as

well as his money in the service of the State, while other men gain

friends by public speaking, enrich themselves, fare delicately, and

make government their amusement."  And in fact this was Nicias's

manner of life, so that he well might apply to himself the words of

Agamemnon: —

Vain pomp's the ruler of the life we live,

And a slave's service to the crowd we give.

He observed that the people, in the case of men of eloquence, or of

eminent parts, made use of their talents upon occasion, but were

always jealous of their abilities, and held a watchful eye upon

them, taking all opportunities to humble their pride and abate

their reputation; as was manifest in their condemnation of

Pericles, their banishment of Damon, their distrust of Antiphon the

Rhamnusian, but especially in the case of Paches who took Lesbos,

who, having to give an account of his conduct, in the very court of

justice unsheathed his sword and slew himself.  Upon such

considerations, Nicias declined all difficult and lengthy

enterprises; if he took a command, he was for doing what was safe;

and if, as thus was likely, he had for the most part success, he

did not attribute it to any wisdom, conduct, or courage of his own,

but, to avoid envy, he thanked fortune for all, and gave the glory

to the divine powers.  And the actions themselves bore testimony in

his favor; the city met at that time with several considerable

reverses, but he had not a hand in any of them.  The Athenians were

routed in Thrace by the Chalcidians, Calliades and Xenophon

commanding in chief.  Demosthenes was the general when they were

unfortunate in Aetolia.  At Delium, they lost a thousand citizens

under the conduct of Hippocrates; the plague was principally laid

to the charge of Pericles, he, to carry on the war, having shut up

close together in the town the crowd of people from the country,

who, by the change of place, and of their usual course of living,

bred the pestilence.  Nicias stood clear of all this; under his

conduct was taken Cythera, an island most commodious against

Laconia, and occupied by the Lacedaemonian settlers; many places,

likewise, in Thrace, which had revolted, were taken or won over by

him; he, shutting up the Megarians within their town, seized upon

the isle of Minoa; and soon after, advancing from thence to Nisaea,

made himself master there, and then making a descent upon the

Corinthian territory, fought a successful battle, and slew a great

number of the Corinthians with their captain Lycophron.  There it

happened that two of his men were left by an oversight, when they

carried off the dead, which when he understood, he stopped the

fleet, and sent a herald to the enemy for leave to carry off the

dead; though by law and custom, he that by a truce craved leave to

carry off the dead, was hereby supposed to give up all claim to the

victory.  Nor was it lawful for him that did this to erect a

trophy, for his is the victory who is master of the field, and he

is not master who asks leave, as wanting power to take.  But he

chose rather to renounce his victory and his glory, than to let two

citizens lie unburied.  He scoured the coast of Laconia all along,

and beat the Lacedaemonians that made head against him.  He took

Thyrea, occupied by the Aeginetans, and carried the prisoners to

Athens.

When Demosthenes had fortified Pylos, and the Peloponnesians

brought together both their sea and land forces before it, after

the fight, about the number of four hundred native Spartans were

left ashore in the isle Sphacteria.  The Athenians thought it a

great prize, as indeed it was, to take these men prisoners.  But

the siege, in places that wanted water, being very difficult and

untoward, and to convey necessaries about by sea in summer tedious

and expensive, in winter doubtful, or plainly impossible, they

began to be annoyed, and to repent their having rejected the

embassy of the Lacedaemonians that had been sent to propose a

treaty of peace, which had been done at the importunity of Cleon,

who opposed it chiefly out of a pique to Nicias; for, being his

enemy, and observing him to be extremely solicitous to support the

offers of the Lacedaemonians, he persuaded the people to refuse

them.

Now, therefore, that the siege was protracted, and they heard of

the difficulties that pressed their army, they grew enraged against

Cleon.  But he turned all the blame upon Nicias, charging it on his

softness and cowardice, that the besieged were not yet taken.

"Were I general," said he, "they should not hold out so long."  The

Athenians not unnaturally asked the question, "Why then, as it is,

do not you go with a squadron against them?"  And Nicias standing

up resigned his command at Pylos to him, and bade him take what

forces he pleased along with him, and not be bold in words, out of

harm's way, but go forth and perform some real service for the

commonwealth.  Cleon, at the first, tried to draw back,

disconcerted at the proposal, which he had never expected; but the

Athenians insisting, and Nicias loudly upbraiding him, he thus

provoked, and fired with ambition, took upon him the charge, and

said further, that within twenty days after he embarked, he would

either kill the enemy upon the place, or bring them alive to

Athens.  This the Athenians were readier to laugh at than to

believe, as on other occasions, also, his bold assertions and

extravagances used to make them sport, and were pleasant enough.

As, for instance, it is reported that once when the people were

assembled, and had waited his coming a long time, at last he

appeared with a garland on his head, and prayed them to adjourn to

the next day.  "For," said he, "I am not at leisure to-day; I have

sacrificed to the gods, and am to entertain some strangers."

Whereupon the Athenians laughing rose up, and dissolved the

assembly.  However, at this time he had good fortune, and in

conjunction with Demosthenes, conducted the enterprise so well,

that within the time he had limited, he carried captive to Athens

all the Spartans that had not fallen in battle.

This brought great disgrace on Nicias; for this was not to throw

away his shield, but something yet more shameful and ignominious,

to quit his charge voluntarily out of cowardice, and voting

himself, as it were, out of his command of his own accord, to put

into his enemy's hand the opportunity of achieving so brave an

action.  Aristophanes has a jest against him on this occasion in

the Birds: —

Indeed, not now the word that must be said

Is, do like Nicias, or retire to bed.

And, again, in his Husbandmen: —

I wish to stay at home and farm.

What then?

Who should prevent you?

You, my countrymen;

Whom I would pay a thousand drachmas down,

To let me give up office and leave town.

Enough; content; the sum two thousand is,

With those that Nicias paid to give up his.

Besides all this, he did great mischief to the city by suffering

the accession of so much reputation and power to Cleon, who now

assumed such lofty airs, and allowed himself in such intolerable

audacity, as led to many unfortunate results, a sufficient part of

which fell to his own share.  Amongst other things, he destroyed

all the decorum of public speaking; he was the first who ever broke

out into exclamations, flung open his dress, smote his thigh, and

ran up and down whilst he was speaking, things which soon after

introduced amongst those who managed the affairs of State, such

license and contempt of decency, as brought all into confusion.

Already, too, Alcibiades was beginning to show his strength at

Athens, a popular leader, not, indeed, as utterly violent as Cleon,

but as the land of Egypt, through the richness of its soil, is

said,

— great plenty to produce,

Both wholesome herbs, and drugs of deadly juice,

so the nature of Alcibiades was strong and luxuriant in both kinds,

and made way for many serious innovations.  Thus it fell out that

after Nicias had got his hands clear of Cleon, he had not

opportunity to settle the city perfectly into quietness.  For

having brought matters to a pretty hopeful condition, he found

everything carried away and plunged again into confusion by

Alcibiades, through the wildness and vehemence of his ambition, and

all embroiled again in war worse than ever.  Which fell out thus.

The persons who had principally hindered the peace were Cleon and

Brasidas.  War setting off the virtue of the one, and hiding the

villainy of the other, gave to the one occasions of achieving brave

actions, to the other opportunity of committing equal dishonesties.

Now when these two were in one battle both slain near Amphipolis,

Nicias was aware that the Spartans had long been desirous of a

peace, and that the Athenians had no longer the same confidence in

the war.  Both being alike tired, and, as it were by consent,

letting fall their hands, he, therefore, in this nick of time,

employed his efforts to make a friendship betwixt the two cities,

and to deliver the other States of Greece from the evils and

calamities they labored under, and so establish his own good name

for success as a statesman for all future time.  He found the men

of substance, the elder men, and the land-owners and farmers pretty

generally, all inclined to peace.  And when, in addition to these,

by conversing and reasoning, he had cooled the wishes of a good

many others for war, he now encouraged the hopes of the

Lacedaemonians, and counseled them to seek peace.  They confided in

him, as on account of his general character for moderation and

equity, so, also, because of the kindness and care he had shown to

the prisoners taken at Pylos and kept in confinement, making their

misfortune the more easy to them.

The Athenians and the Spartans had before this concluded a truce

for a year, and during this, by associating with one another, they

had tasted again the sweets of peace and security, and unimpeded

intercourse with friends and connections, and thus longed for an

end of that fighting and bloodshed, and heard with delight the

chorus sing such verses as

— my lance I'll leave

Laid by, for spiders to o'erweave,

and remembered with joy the saying, In peace, they who sleep are

awaked by the cock-crow, not by the trumpet.  So shutting their

ears, with loud reproaches, to the forebodings of those who said

that the Fates decreed this to be a war of thrice nine years, the

whole question having been debated, they made a peace.  And most

people thought, now, indeed, they had got an end of all their

evils.  And Nicias was in every man's mouth, as one especially

beloved of the gods, who, for his piety and devotion, had been

appointed to give a name to the fairest and greatest of all

blessings.  For in fact they considered the peace Nicias's work, as

the war the work of Pericles; because he, on light occasions,

seemed to have plunged the Greeks into great calamities, while

Nicias had induced them to forget all the evils they had done each

other and to be friends again; and so to this day it is called the

Peace of Nicias.

The articles being, that the garrisons and towns taken on either

side, and the prisoners should be restored, and they to restore the

first to whom it should fall by lot, Nicias, as Theophrastus tells

us, by a sum of money procured that the lot should fall for the

Lacedaemonians to deliver the first.  Afterwards, when the

Corinthians and the Boeotians showed their dislike of what was

done, and by their complaints and accusations were wellnigh

bringing the war back again, Nicias persuaded the Athenians and the

Lacedaemonians, besides the peace, to make a treaty of alliance,

offensive and defensive, as a tie and confirmation of the peace,

which would make them more terrible to those that held out, and the

firmer to each other.  Whilst these matters were on foot,

Alcibiades, who was no lover of tranquillity, and who was offended

with the Lacedaemonians because of their applications and

attentions to Nicias, while they overlooked and despised himself,

from first to last, indeed, had opposed the peace, though all in

vain, but now finding that the Lacedaemonians did not altogether

continue to please the Athenians, but were thought to have acted

unfairly in having made a league with the Boeotians, and had not

given up Panactum, as they should have done, with its

fortifications unrazed, nor yet Amphipolis, he laid hold on these

occasions for his purpose, and availed himself of every one of them

to irritate the people.  And, at length, sending for ambassadors

from the Argives, he exerted himself to effect a confederacy

between the Athenians and them.  And now, when Lacedaemonian

ambassadors were come with full powers, and at their preliminary

audience by the council seemed to come in all points with just

proposals, he, fearing that the general assembly, also, would be

won over to their offers, overreached them with false professions

and oaths of assistance, on the condition that they would not avow

that they came with full powers, this, he said, being the only way

for them to attain their desires.  They being overpersuaded and

decoyed from Nicias to follow him, he introduced them to the

assembly, and asked them presently whether or no they came in all

points with full powers, which when they denied, he, contrary to

their expectation, changing his countenance, called the council to

witness their words, and now bade the people beware how they trust,

or transact anything with such manifest liars, who say at one time

one thing, and at another the very opposite upon the same subject.

These plenipotentiaries were, as well they might be, confounded at

this, and Nicias, also, being at a loss what to say, and struck

with amazement and wonder, the assembly resolved to send

immediately for the Argives, to enter into a league with them.  An

earthquake, which interrupted the assembly, made for Nicias's

advantage; and the next day the people being again assembled, after

much speaking and soliciting, with great ado he brought it about,

that the treaty with the Argives should be deferred, and he be sent

to the Lacedaemonians, in full expectation that so all would go

well.

When he arrived at Sparta, they received him there as a good man,

and one well inclined towards them; yet he effected nothing, but,

baffled by the party that favored the Boeotians, he returned home,

not only dishonored and hardly spoken of, but likewise in fear of

the Athenians, who were vexed and enraged that through his

persuasions they had released so many and such considerable

persons, their prisoners, for the men who had been brought from

Pylos were of the chiefest families of Sparta, and had those who

were highest there in place and power for their friends and

kindred.  Yet did they not in their heat proceed against him,

otherwise than that they chose Alcibiades general, and took the

Mantineans and Eleans, who had thrown up their alliance with the

Lacedaemonians, into the league, together with the Argives, and

sent to Pylos freebooters to infest Laconia, whereby the war began

to break out afresh.

But the enmity betwixt Nicias and Alcibiades running higher and

higher, and the time being at hand for decreeing the ostracism or

banishment, for ten years, which the people, putting the name on a

sherd, were wont to inflict at certain times on some person

suspected or regarded with jealousy for his popularity or wealth,

both were now in alarm and apprehension, one of them, in all

likelihood, being to undergo this ostracism; as the people

abominated the life of Alcibiades, and stood in fear of his

boldness and resolution, as is shown particularly in the history of

him; while as for Nicias, his riches made him envied, and his

habits of living, in particular, his unsociable and exclusive ways,

not like those of a fellow-citizen, or even a fellow-man, went

against him, and having many times opposed their inclinations,

forcing them against their feelings to do what was their interest,

he had got himself disliked.

To speak plainly, it was a contest of the young men who were eager

for war, against the men of years and lovers of peace, they turning

the ostracism upon the one, these upon the other.  But

In civil strife e'en villains rise to fame.

And so now it happened that the city, distracted into two factions,

allowed free course to the most impudent and profligate persons,

among whom was Hyperbolus of the Perithoedae, one who could not,

indeed, be said to be presuming upon any power, but rather by his

presumption rose into power, and by the honor he found in the city,

became the scandal of it.  He, at this time, thought himself far

enough from the ostracism, as more properly deserving the slave's

gallows, and made account, that one of these men being dispatched

out of the way, he might be able to play a part against the other

that should be left, and openly showed his pleasure at the

dissension, and his desire to inflame the people against both of

them.  Nicias and Alcibiades, perceiving his malice, secretly

combined together, and setting both their interests jointly at

work, succeeded in fixing the ostracism not on either of them, but

even on Hyperbolus.  This, indeed, at the first, made sport, and

raised laughter among the people; but afterwards it was felt as an

affront, that the thing should be dishonored by being employed upon

so unworthy a subject; punishment, also, having its proper dignity,

and ostracism being one that was appropriate rather for Thucydides,

Aristides, and such like persons; whereas for Hyperbolus it was a

glory, and a fair ground for boasting on his part, when for his

villainy he suffered the same with the best men.  As Plato, the

comic poet said of him,

The man deserved the fate, deny who can;

Yes, but the fate did not deserve the man;

Not for the like of him and his slave-brands,

Did Athens put the sherd into our hands.

And, in fact, none ever afterwards suffered this sort of

punishment, but Hyperbolus was the last, as Hipparchus the

Cholargian, who was kin to the tyrant, was the first.

There is no judgment to be made of fortune; nor can any reasoning

bring us to a certainty about it.  If Nicias had run the risk with

Alcibiades, whether of the two should undergo the ostracism, he had

either prevailed, and, his rival being expelled the city, he had

remained secure; or, being overcome, he had avoided the utmost

disasters, and preserved the reputation of a most excellent

commander.  Meantime I am not ignorant that Theophrastus says, that

when Hyperbolus was banished Phaeax, not Nicias, contested it with

Alcibiades; but most authors differ from him.

It was Alcibiades, at any rate, whom when the Aegestean and

Leontine ambassadors arrived and urged the Athenians to make an

expedition against Sicily, Nicias opposed, and by whose persuasions

and ambition he found himself overborne, who even before the people

could be assembled, had preoccupied and corrupted their judgment

with hopes and with speeches; insomuch that the young men at their

sports, and the old men in their workshops, and sitting together on

the benches, would be drawing maps of Sicily, and making charts

showing the seas, the harbors, and general character of the coast

of the island opposite Africa.  For they made not Sicily the end of

the war, but rather its starting point and head-quarters from

whence they might carry it to the Carthaginians, and possess

themselves of Africa, and of the seas as far as the pillars of

Hercules.  The bulk of the people, therefore, pressing this way,

Nicias, who opposed them, found but few supporters, nor those of

much influence; for the men of substance, fearing lest they should

seem to shun the public charges and ship-money, were quiet against

their inclination; nevertheless he did not tire nor give it up, but

even after the Athenians decreed a war and chose him in the first

place general, together with Alcibiades and Lamachus, when they

were again assembled, he stood up, dissuaded them, and protested

against the decision, and laid the blame on Alcibiades, charging

him with going about to involve the city in foreign dangers and

difficulties, merely with a view to his own private lucre and

ambition.  Yet it came to nothing.  Nicias, because of his

experience, was looked upon as the fitter for the employment, and

his wariness with the bravery of Alcibiades, and the easy temper of

Lamachus, all compounded together, promised such security, that he

did but confirm the resolution.  Demostratus, who, of the popular

leaders, was the one who chiefly pressed the Athenians to the

expedition, stood up and said he would stop the mouth of Nicias

from urging any more excuses, and moved that the generals should

have absolute power both at home and abroad, to order and to act as

they thought best; and this vote the people passed.

The priests, however, are said to have very earnestly opposed the

enterprise.  But Alcibiades had his diviners of another sort, who

from some old prophesies announced that "there shall be great fame

of the Athenians in Sicily," and messengers came back to him from

Jupiter Ammon, with oracles importing that "the Athenians shall

take all the Syracusans."  Those, meanwhile, who knew anything

that boded ill, concealed it, lest they might seem to forespeak

ill-luck.  For even prodigies that were obvious and plain would not

deter them; not the defacing of the Hermue, all maimed in one night

except one, called the Hermes of Andocides, erected by the tribe of

Aegeus, placed directly before the house then occupied by

Andocides; nor what was perpetrated on the altar of the twelve

gods, upon which a certain man leaped suddenly up, and then turning

round, mutilated himself with a stone.  Likewise at Delphi, there

stood a golden image of Minerva, set on a palm-tree of brass,

erected by the city of Athens from the spoils they won from the

Medes; this was pecked at several days together by crows flying

upon it, who, also, plucked off and knocked down the fruit, made of

gold, upon the palm-tree.  But the Athenians said these were all

but inventions of the Delphians, corrupted by the men of Syracuse.

A certain oracle bade them bring from Clazomenae the priestess of

Minerva there; they sent for the woman and found her named

Hesychia, Quietness, this being, it would seem, what the divine

powers advised the city at this time, to be quiet.  Whether,

therefore, the astrologer Meton feared these presages, or that from

human reason he doubted its success, (for he was appointed to a

command in it,) feigning himself mad, he set his house on fire.

Others say he did not counterfeit madness, but set his house on

fire in the night, and he next morning came before the assembly in

great distress, and besought the people, in consideration of the

sad disaster, to release his son from the service, who was about to

go captain of a galley for Sicily.  The genius, also, of the

philosopher Socrates, on this occasion, too, gave him intimation by

the usual tokens, that the expedition would prove the ruin of the

commonwealth; this he imparted to his friends and familiars, and by

them it was mentioned to a number of people.  Not a few were

troubled because the days on which the fleet set sail happened to

be the time when the women celebrated the death of Adonis; there

being everywhere then exposed to view images of dead men, carried

about with mourning and lamentation, and women beating their

breasts.  So that such as laid any stress on these matters were

extremely troubled, and feared lest that all this warlike

preparation, so splendid and so glorious, should suddenly, in a

little time, be blasted in its very prime of magnificence, and come

to nothing.

Nicias, in opposing the voting of this expedition, and neither

being puffed up with hopes, nor transported with the honor of his

high command so as to modify his judgment, showed himself a man of

virtue and constancy.  But when his endeavors could not divert the

people from the war, nor get leave for himself to be discharged of

the command, but the people, as it were, violently took him up and

carried him, and against his will put him in the office of general,

this was no longer now a time for his excessive caution and his

delays, nor was it for him, like a child, to look back from the

ship, often repeating and reconsidering over and over again how

that his advice had not been overruled by fair arguments, thus

blunting the courage of his fellow commanders and spoiling the

season of action.  Whereas, he ought speedily to have closed with

the enemy and brought the matter to an issue, and put fortune

immediately to the test in battle.  But, on the contrary, when

Lamachus counseled to sail directly to Syracuse, and fight the

enemy under their city walls, and Alcibiades advised to secure the

friendship of the other towns, and then to march against them,

Nicias dissented from them both, and insisted that they should

cruise quietly around the island and display their armament, and,

having landed a small supply of men for the Egesteans, return to

Athens, weakening at once the resolution and casting down the

spirits of the men.  And when, a little while after, the Athenians

called home Alcibiades in order to his trial, he being, though

joined nominally with another in commission, in effect the only

general, made now no end of loitering, of cruising, and

considering, till their hopes were grown stale, and all the

disorder and consternation which the first approach and view of

their forces had cast amongst the enemy was worn off, and had left

them.

Whilst yet Alcibiades was with the fleet, they went before Syracuse

with a squadron of sixty galleys, fifty of them lying in array

without the harbor, while the other ten rowed in to reconnoiter,

and by a herald called upon the citizens of Leontini to return to

their own country.  These scouts took a galley of the enemy's, in

which they found certain tablets, on which was set down a list of

all the Syracusans, according to their tribes.  These were wont to

be laid up at a distance from the city, in the temple of Jupiter

Olympius, but were now brought forth for examination to furnish a

muster-roll of young men for the war.  These being so taken by the

Athenians, and carried to the officers, and the multitude of names

appearing, the diviners thought it unpropitious, and were in

apprehension lest this should be the only destined fullfilment of

the prophecy, that "the Athenians shall take all the Syracusans."

Yet, indeed, this was said to be accomplished by the Athenians at

another time, when Callippus the Athenian, having slain Dion,

became master of Syracuse.  But when Alcibiades shortly after

sailed away from Sicily, the command fell wholly to Nicias.

Lamachus was, indeed, a brave and honest man, and ready to fight

fearlessly with his own hand in battle, but so poor and ill off,

that whenever he was appointed general, he used always, in

accounting for his outlay of public money, to bring some little

reckoning or other of money for his very clothes and shoes.  On the

contrary, Nicias, as on other accounts, so, also, because of his

wealth and station, was very much thought of.  The story is told that

once upon a time the commission of generals being in consultation

together in their public office, he bade Sophocles the poet give

his opinion first, as the senior of the board.  "I," replied

Sophocles, "am the older, but you are the senior."  And so now,

also, Lamachus, who better understood military affairs, being quite

his subordinate, he himself, evermore delaying and avoiding risk,

and faintly employing his forces, first by his sailing about Sicily

at the greatest distance aloof from the enemy, gave them

confidence, then by afterwards attacking Hybla, a petty fortress,

and drawing off before he could take it, made himself utterly

despised.  At the last he retreated to Catana without having

achieved anything, save that he demolished Hyocara, a humble town

of the barbarians, out of which the story goes that Lais the

courtesan, yet a mere girl, was sold amongst the other prisoners,

and carried thence away to Peloponnesus.

But when the summer was spent, after reports began to reach him

that the Syracusans were grown so confident that they would come

first to attack him, and troopers skirmishing to the very camp

twitted his soldiers, asking whether they came to settle with the

Catanians, or to put the Leontines in possession of their city, at

last, with much ado, Nicias resolved to sail against Syracuse.  And

wishing to form his camp safely and without molestation, he

procured a man to carry from Catana intelligence to the Syracusans

that they might seize the camp of the Athenians unprotected, and

all their arms, if on such a day they should march with all their

forces to Catana; and that, the Athenians living mostly in the

town, the friends of the Syracusans had concerted, as soon as they

should perceive them coming, to possess themselves of one of the

gates, and to fire the arsenal; that many now were in the

conspiracy and awaited their arrival.  This was the ablest thing

Nicias did in the whole of his conduct of the expedition.  For

having drawn out all the strength of the enemy, and made the city

destitute of men, he set out from Catana, entered the harbor, and

chose a fit place for his camp, where the enemy could least

incommode him with the means in which they were superior to him,

while with the means in which he was superior to them, he might

expect to carry on the war without impediment.

When the Syracusans returned from Catana, and stood in battle array

before the city gates, he rapidly led up the Athenians and fell on

them and defeated them, but did not kill many, their horse

hindering the pursuit.  And his cutting and breaking down the

bridges that lay over the river gave Hermocrates, when cheering up

the Syracusans, occasion to say, that Nicias was ridiculous, whose

great aim seemed to be to avoid fighting, as if fighting were not

the thing he came for.  However, he put the Syracusans into a very

great alarm and consternation, so that instead of fifteen generals

then in service, they chose three others, to whom the people

engaged by oath to allow absolute authority.

There stood near them the temple of Jupiter Olympius, which the

Athenians (there being in it many consecrated things of gold and

silver) were eager to take, but were purposely withheld from it by

Nicias, who let the opportunity slip, and allowed a garrison of the

Syracusans to enter it, judging that if the soldiers should make

booty of that wealth, it would be no advantage to the public, and

he should bear the guilt of the impiety.  Not improving in the

least this success, which was everywhere famous, after a few days'

stay, away he goes to Naxos, and there winters, spending largely

for the maintenance of so great an army, and not doing anything

except some matters of little consequence with some native

Sicilians that revolted to him.  Insomuch that the Syracusans took

heart again, made excursions to Catana, wasted the country, and

fired the camp of the Athenians.  For which everybody blamed

Nicias, who, with his long reflection, his deliberateness, and his

caution, had let slip the time for action.  None ever found fault

with the man when once at work, for in the brunt he showed vigor

and activity enough, but was slow and wanted assurance to engage.

When, therefore, he brought again the army to Syracuse, such was

his conduct, and with such celerity, and at the same time security,

he came upon them, that nobody knew of his approach, when already

he had come to shore with his galleys at Thapsus, and had landed

his men; and before any could help it he had surprised Epipolae,

had defeated the body of picked men that came to its succor, took

three hundred prisoners, and routed the cavalry of the enemy, which

had been thought invincible.  But what chiefly astonished the

Syracusans, and seemed incredible to the Greeks, was, in so short a

space of time the walling about of Syracuse, a town not less than

Athens, and far more difficult, by the unevenness of the ground,

and the nearness of the sea and the marshes adjacent, to have such

a wall drawn in a circle round it; yet this, all within a very

little, finished by a man that had not even his health for such

weighty cares, but lay ill of the stone, which may justly bear the

blame for what was left undone.  I admire the industry of the

general, and the bravery of the soldiers for what they succeeded

in.  Euripides, after their ruin and disaster, writing their

funeral elegy, said that

Eight victories over Syracuse they gained,

While equal yet to both the gods remained.

And in truth one shall not find eight, but many more victories, won

by these men against the Syracusans, till the gods, in real truth,

or fortune intervened to check the Athenians in this advance to the

height of power and greatness.

Nicias, therefore, doing violence to his body, was present in most

actions.  But once, when his disease was the sharpest upon him, he

lay in the camp with some few servants to attend him.  And Lamachus

having the command fought the Syracusans, who were bringing a

cross-wall from the city along to that of the Athenians, to hinder

them from carrying it round; and in the victory, the Athenians

hurrying in some disorder to the pursuit, Lamachus getting

separated from his men, had to resist the Syracusan horse that came

upon him.  Before the rest advanced Callicrates, a man of good

courage and skill in war.  Lamachus, upon a challenge, engaged with

him in single combat, and receiving the first wound, returned it so

home to Callicrates, that they both fell and died together.  The

Syracusans took away his body and arms, and at full speed advanced

to the wall of the Athenians, where Nicias lay without any troops

to oppose to them, yet roused by this necessity, and seeing the

danger, he bade those about him go and set on fire all the wood and

materials that lay provided before the wall for the engines, and

the engines themselves; this put a stop to the Syracusans, saved

Nicias, saved the walls, and all the money of the Athenians.  For

when the Syracusans raw such a fire blazing up between them and the

wall, they retired.

Nicias now remained sole general, and with great prospects; for

cities began to come over to alliance with him, and ships laden

with corn from every coast came to the camp, everyone favoring

when matters went well.  And some proposals from among the

Syracusans despairing to defend the city, about a capitulation,

were already conveyed to him.  And in fact Gylippus, who was on his

way with a squadron to their aid from Lacedaemon, hearing, on his

voyage, of the wall surrounding them, and of their distress, only

continued his enterprise thenceforth, that, giving Sicily up for

lost, he might, if even that should be possible, secure the

Italians their cities.  For a strong report was everywhere spread

about that the Athenians carried all before them, and had a general

alike for conduct and for fortune invincible.

And Nicias himself, too, now against his nature grown bold in his

present strength and success, especially from the intelligence he

received under hand of the Syracusans, believing they would almost

immediately surrender the town upon terms, paid no manner of regard

to Gylippus coming to their assistance, nor kept any watch of his

approach so that, neglected altogether and despised, Gylippus went

in a longboat ashore without the knowledge of Nicias, and, having

landed in the remotest parts from Syracuse, mustered up a

considerable force, the Syracusans not so much as knowing of his

arrival nor expecting him; so that an assembly was summoned to

consider the terms to be arranged with Nicias, and some were

actually on the way, thinking it essential to have all dispatched

before the town should be quite walled round, for now there

remained very little to be done, and the materials for the building

lay all ready along the line.

In this very nick of time and danger arrived Gongylus in one galley

from Corinth, and everyone, as may be imagined, flocking about

him, he told them that Gylippus would be with them speedily, and

that other ships were coming to relieve them.  And, ere yet they

could perfectly believe Gongylus, an express was brought from

Gylippus, to bid them go forth to meet him.  So now taking good

heart, they armed themselves; and Gylippus at once led on his men

from their march in battle array against the Athenians, as Nicias

also embattled these.  And Gylippus, piling his arms in view of the

Athenians, sent a herald to tell them he would give them leave to

depart from Sicily without molestation.  To this Nicias would not

vouchsafe any answer, but some of his soldiers laughing asked if

with the sight of one coarse coat and Laconian staff the Syracusan

prospects had become so brilliant that they could despise the

Athenians, who had released to the Lacedaemonians three hundred,

whom they held in chains, bigger men than Gylippus, and

longer-haired?  Timaeus, also, writes that even the Syracusans made

no account of Gylippus, at the first sight mocking at his staff and

long hair, as afterwards they found reason to blame his

covetousness and meanness.  The same author, however, adds that on

Gylippus's first appearance, as it might have been at the sight of

an owl abroad in the air, there was a general flocking together of

men to serve in the war.  And this is the truer saying of the two;

for in the staff and the cloak they saw the badge and authority of

Sparta, and crowded to him accordingly.  And not only Thucydides

affirms that the whole thing was done by him alone, but so, also,

does Philistus, who was a Syracusan and an actual witness of what

happened.

However, the Athenians had the better in the first encounter, and

slew some few of the Syracusans, and amongst them Gongylus of

Corinth.  But on the next day Gylippus showed what it is to be a

man of experience; for with the same arms, the same horses, and on

the same spot of ground, only employing them otherwise, he overcame

the Athenians; and they fleeing to their camp, he set the

Syracusans to work, and with the stone and materials that had been

brought together for finishing the wall of the Athenians, he built

a cross wall to intercept theirs and break it off, so that even if

they were successful in the field, they would not be able to do

anything.  And after this the Syracusans taking courage manned their

galleys, and with their horse and followers ranging about took a

good many prisoners; and Gylippus going himself to the cities,

called upon them to join with him, and was listened to and

supported vigorously by them.  So that Nicias fell back again to

his old views, and, seeing the face of affairs change, desponded,

and wrote to Athens, bidding them either send another army, or

recall this out of Sicily, and that he might, in any case, be

wholly relieved of the command, because of his disease.

Before this, the Athenians had been intending to send another army

to Sicily, but envy of Nicias's early achievements and high fortune

had occasioned, up to this time, many delays; but now they were all

eager to send off succors.  Eurymedon went before, in midwinter,

with money, and to announce that Euthydemus and Menander were

chosen out of those that served there under Nicias to be joint

commanders with him.  Demosthenes was to go after in the spring

with a great armament.  In the meantime Nicias was briskly

attacked, both by sea and land; in the beginning he had the

disadvantage on the water, but in the end repulsed and sunk many

galleys of the enemy.  But by land he could not provide succor in

time, so Gylippus surprised and captured Plemmyrium, in which the

stores for the navy, and a great sum of money being there kept, all

fell into his hands, and many were slain, and many taken prisoners.

And what was of greatest importance, he now cut off Nicias's

supplies, which had been safely and readily conveyed to him under

Plemmyrium, while the Athenians still held it, but now that they

were beaten out, he could only procure them with great difficulty,

and with opposition from the enemy, who lay in wait with their

ships under that fort.  Moreover, it seemed manifest to the

Syracusans that their navy had not been beaten by strength, but by

their disorder in the pursuit.  Now, therefore, all hands went to

work to prepare for a new attempt, that should succeed better than

the former.  Nicias had no wish for a sea-fight, but said it was

mere folly for them, when Demosthenes was coming in all haste with

so great a fleet and fresh forces to their succor, to engage the

enemy with a less number of ships and ill provided.  But, on the

other hand, Menander and Euthydemus, who were just commencing their

new command, prompted by a feeling of rivalry and emulation of both

the generals, were eager to gain some great success before

Demosthenes came, and to prove themselves superior to Nicias.  They

urged the honor of the city, which, said they, would be blemished

and utterly lost, if they should decline a challenge from the

Syracusans.  Thus they forced Nicias to a sea-fight; and by the

stratagem of Ariston, the Corinthian pilot, (his trick, described

by Thucydides, about the men's dinners,) they were worsted, and

lost many of their men, causing the greatest dejection to Nicias,

who had suffered so much from having the sole command, and now

again miscarried through his colleagues.

But now, by this time, Demosthenes with his splendid fleet came in

sight outside the harbor, a terror to the enemy.  He brought along,

in seventy-three galleys, five thousand men at arms; of darters,

archers, and slingers, not less than three thousand; with the

glittering of their armor, the flags waving from the galleys, the

multitude of coxswains and flute-players giving time to the rowers,

setting off the whole with all possible warlike pomp and

ostentation to dismay the enemy.  Now, one may believe the

Syracusans were again in extreme alarm, seeing no end or prospect

of release before them, toiling, as it seemed, in vain, and

perishing to no purpose.  Nicias, however, was not long overjoyed

with the reinforcement, for the first time he conferred with

Demosthenes, who advised forthwith to attack the Syracusans, and to

put all to the speediest hazard, to win Syracuse, or else return

home, afraid, and wondering at his promptness and audacity, he

besought him to do nothing rashly and desperately, since delay

would be the ruin of the enemy, whose money would not hold out, nor

their confederates be long kept together; that when once they came

to be pinched with want, they would presently come again to him for

terms, as formerly.  For, indeed, many in Syracuse held secret

correspondence with him, and urged him to stay, declaring that even

now the people were quite worn out with the war, and weary of

Gylippus.  And if their necessities should the least sharpen upon

them they would give up all.

Nicias glancing darkly at these matters, and unwilling to speak out

plainly, made his colleagues imagine that it was cowardice which

made him talk in this manner.  And saying that this was the old

story over again, the well known procrastinations and delays and

refinements with which at first he let slip the opportunity in not

immediately falling on the enemy, but suffering the armament to

become a thing of yesterday, that nobody was alarmed with, they

took the side of Demosthenes, and with much ado forced Nicias to

comply.  And so Demosthenes, taking the land-forces, by night made

an assault upon Epipolae; part of the enemy he slew ere they took

the alarm, the rest defending themselves he put to flight.  Nor was

he content with this victory there, but pushed on further, till he

met the Boeotians.  For these were the first that made head against

the Athenians, and charged them with a shout, spear against spear,

and killed many on the place.  And now at once there ensued a panic

and confusion throughout the whole army; the victorious portion got

infected with the fears of the flying part, and those who were

still disembarking and coming forward, falling foul of the

retreaters, came into conflict with their own party, taking the

fugitives for pursuers, and treating their friends as if they were

the enemy.

Thus huddled together in disorder, distracted with fear and

uncertainties, and unable to be sure of seeing anything, the night

not being absolutely dark, nor yielding any steady light, the moon

then towards setting, shadowed with the many weapons and bodies

that moved to and fro, and glimmering so as not to show an object

plain, but to make friends through fear suspected for foes, the

Athenians fell into utter perplexity and desperation.  For,

moreover, they had the moon at their backs, and consequently their

own shadows fell upon them, and both hid the number and the

glittering of their arms; while the reflection of the moon from the

shields of the enemy made them show more numerous and better

appointed than, indeed, they were.  At last, being pressed on every

side, when once they had given way, they took to rout, and in their

flight were destroyed, some by the enemy, some by the hand of their

friends, and some tumbling down the rocks, while those that were

dispersed and straggled about were picked off in the morning by the

horsemen and put to the sword.  The slain were two thousand; and of

the rest few came off safe with their arms.

Upon this disaster, which to him was not wholly an unexpected one,

Nicias accused the rashness of Demosthenes; but he, making his

excuses for the past, now advised to be gone in all haste, for

neither were other forces to come, nor could the enemy be beaten

with the present.  And, indeed, even supposing they were yet too

hard for the enemy in any case, they ought to remove and quit a

situation which they understood to be always accounted a sickly

one, and dangerous for an army, and was more particularly

unwholesome now, as they could see themselves, because of the time

of year.  It was the beginning of autumn, and many now lay sick,

and all were out of heart.

It grieved Nicias to hear of flight and departing home, not that he

did not fear the Syracusans, but he was worse afraid of the

Athenians, their impeachments and sentences; he professed that he

apprehended no further harm there, or if it must be, he would

rather die by the hand of an enemy, than by his fellow-citizens.

He was not of the opinion which Leo of Byzantium declared to his

fellow-citizens:  "I had rather," said he, "perish by you, than

with you."  As to the matter of place and quarter whither to remove

their camp, that, he said, might be debated at leisure.  And

Demosthenes, his former counsel having succeeded so ill, ceased to

press him further; others thought Nicias had reasons for

expectation, and relied on some assurance from people within the

city, and that this made him so strongly oppose their retreat, so

they acquiesced.  But fresh forces now coming to the Syracusans,

and the sickness growing worse in his camp, he, also, now approved

of their retreat, and commanded the soldiers to make ready to go

aboard.

And when all were in readiness, and none of the enemy had observed

them, not expecting such a thing, the moon was eclipsed in the

night, to the great fright of Nicias and others, who, for want of

experience, or out of superstition, felt alarm at such appearances.

That the sun might be darkened about the close of the month, this

even ordinary people now understood pretty well to be the effect of

the moon; but the moon itself to be darkened, how that could come

about, and how, on the sudden, a broad full moon should lose her

light, and show such various colors, was not easy to be

comprehended; they concluded it to be ominous, and a divine

intimation of some heavy calamities.  For he who the first, and the

most plainly of any, and with the greatest assurance committed to

writing how the moon is enlightened and overshadowed, was

Anaxagoras; and he was as yet but recent, nor was his argument much

known, but was rather kept secret, passing only amongst a few,

under some kind of caution and confidence.  People would not then

tolerate natural philosophers, and theorists, as they then called

them, about things above; as lessening the divine power, by

explaining away its agency into the operation of irrational causes

and senseless forces acting by necessity, without anything of

Providence, or a free agent.  Hence it was that Protagoras was

banished, and Anaxagoras cast in prison, so that Pericles had much

difficulty to procure his liberty; and Socrates, though he had no

concern whatever with this sort of learning, yet was put to death

for philosophy.  It was only afterwards that the reputation of

Plato, shining forth by his life, and because he subjected natural

necessity to divine and more excellent principles, took away the

obloquy and scandal that had attached to such contemplations, and

obtained these studies currency among all people.  So his friend

Dion, when the moon, at the time he was to embark from Zacynthus to

go against Dionysius, was eclipsed, was not in the least disturbed,

but went on, and, arriving at Syracuse, expelled the tyrant.  But

it so fell out with Nicias, that he had not at this time a skillful

diviner with him; his former habitual adviser who used to moderate

much of his superstition, Stilbides, had died a little before.  For

in fact, this prodigy, as Philochorus observes, was not unlucky for

men wishing to fly, but on the contrary very favorable; for things

done in fear require to be hidden, and the light is their foe.  Nor

was it usual to observe signs in the sun or moon more than three

days, as Autoclides states in his Commentaries.  But Nicias

persuaded them to wait another full course of the moon, as if he

had not seen it clear again as soon as ever it had passed the

region of shadow where the light was obstructed by the earth.

In a manner abandoning all other cares, he betook himself wholly to

his sacrifices, till the enemy came upon them with their infantry,

besieging the forts and camp, and placing their ships in a circle

about the harbor.  Nor did the men in the galleys only, but the

little boys everywhere got into the fishing-boats and rowed up and

challenged the Athenians, and insulted over them.  Amongst these a

youth of noble parentage, Heraclides by name, having ventured out

beyond the rest, an Athenian ship pursued and wellnigh took him.

His uncle Pollichus, in fear for him, put out with ten galleys

which he commanded, and the rest, to relieve Pollichus, in like

manner drew forth; the result of it being a very sharp engagement,

in which the Syracusans had the victory, and slew Eurymedon, with

many others.  lifter this the Athenian soldiers had no patience to

stay longer, but raised an outcry against their officers, requiring

them to depart by land; for the Syracusans, upon their victory,

immediately shut and blocked up the entrance of the harbor; but

Nicias would not consent to this, as it was a shameful thing to

leave behind so many ships of burden, and galleys little less than

two hundred.  Putting, therefore, on board the best of the foot,

and the most serviceable darters, they filled one hundred and ten

galleys; the rest wanted oars.  The remainder of his army Nicias

posted along by the sea-side, abandoning the great camp and the

fortifications adjoining the temple of Hercules; so the Syracusans,

not having for a long time performed their usual sacrifice to

Hercules, went up now, both priests and captains, to sacrifice.

And their galleys being manned, the diviners predicted from their

sacrifices victory and glory to the Syracusans, provided they would

not be the aggressors, but fight upon the defensive; for so

Hercules overcame all, by only de.  fending himself when set upon.

In this confidence they set out; and this proved the hottest and

fiercest of all their sea-fights, raising no less concern and

passion in the beholders than in the actors; as they could oversee

the whole action with all the various and unexpected turns of

fortune which, in a short space, occurred in it; the Athenians

suffering no less from their own preparations, than from the enemy;

for they fought against light and nimble ships, that could attack

from any quarter, with theirs laden and heavy.  And they were

thrown at with stones that fly indifferently any way, for which

they could only return darts and arrows, the direct aim of which

the motion of the water disturbed, preventing their coming true,

point foremost to their mark.  This the Syracusans had learned from

Ariston the Corinthian pilot, who, fighting stoutly, fell himself

in this very engagement, when the victory had already declared for

the Syracusans.

The Athenians, their loss and slaughter being very great, their

flight by sea cut off, their safety by land so difficult, did not

attempt to hinder the enemy towing away their ships, under their

eves, nor demanded their dead, as, indeed, their want of burial

seemed a less calamity than the leaving behind the sick and wounded

which they now had before them.  Yet more miserable still than

those did they reckon themselves, who were to work on yet, through

more such sufferings, after all to reach the same end.

They prepared to dislodge that night.  And Gylippus and his friends

seeing the Syracusans engaged in their sacrifices and at their

cups, for their victories, and it being also a holiday, did not

expect either by persuasion or by force to rouse them up and carry

them against the Athenians as they decamped.  But Hermocrates, of

his own head, put a trick upon Nicias, and sent some of his

companions to him, who pretended they came from those that were

wont to hold secret intelligence with him, and advised him not to

stir that night, the Syracusans having laid ambushes and beset the

ways.  Nicias, caught with this stratagem, remained, to encounter

presently in reality, what he had feared when there was no

occasion.  For they, the next morning, marching before, seized the

defiles, fortified the passes where the rivers were fordable, cut

down the bridges, and ordered their horsemen to range the plains

and ground that lay open, so as to leave no part of the country

where the Athenians could move without fighting.  They stayed both

that day and another night, and then went along as if they were

leaving their own, not an enemy's country, lamenting and bewailing

for want of necessaries, and for their parting from friends and

companions that were not, able to help themselves; and,

nevertheless, judging the present evils lighter than those they

expected to come.  But among the many miserable spectacles that

appeared up and down in the camp, the saddest sight of all was

Nicias himself, laboring under his malady, and unworthily reduced

to the scantiest supply of all the accommodations necessary for

human wants, of which he in his condition required more than

ordinary, because of his sickness; yet bearing; up under all this

illness, and doing and undergoing more than many in perfect health.

And it was plainly evident, that all this toil was not for himself,

or from any regard to his own life, but that purely for the sake of

those under his command he would not abandon hope.  And, indeed,

the rest were given over to weeping and lamentation through fear or

sorrow, but he, whenever he yielded to anything of the kind, did

so, it was evident, from reflection upon the shame and dishonor of

the enterprise, contrasted with the greatness and glory of the

success he had anticipated, and not only the sight of his person,

but, also, the recollection of the arguments and the dissuasions he

used to prevent this expedition, enhanced their sense of the

undeservedness of his sufferings, nor had they any heart to put

their trust in the gods, considering that a man so religious, who

had performed to the divine powers so many and so great acts of

devotion, should have no more favorable treatment than the

wickedest and meanest of the army.

Nicias, however, endeavored all the while by his voice, his

countenance, and his carriage, to show himself undefeated by these

misfortunes.  And all along the way shot at, and receiving wounds

eight days continually from the enemy, he yet preserved the forces

with him in a body entire, till that Demosthenes was taken prisoner

with the party that he led, whilst they fought and made a

resistance, and so got behind and were surrounded near the country

house of Polyzelus.  Demosthenes thereupon drew his sword, and

wounded but did not kill himself, the enemy speedily running in and

seizing upon him.  So soon as the Syracusans had gone and informed

Nicias of this, and he had sent some horsemen, and by them knew the

certainty of the defeat of that division, he then vouchsafed to sue

to Gylippus for a truce for the Athenians to depart out of Sicily,

leaving hostages for payment of the money that the Syracusans had

expended in the war.

But now they would not hear of these proposals, but threatening and

reviling them, angrily and insultingly continued to ply their

missiles at them, now destitute of every necessary.  Yet Nicias

still made good his retreat all that night, and the next day,

through all their darts, made his way to the river Asinarus.

There, however, the enemy encountering them, drove some into the

stream, while others ready to die for thirst plunged in headlong,

while they drank at the same time, and were cut down by their

enemies.  And here was the cruelest and the most immoderate

slaughter.  Till at last Nicias falling down to Gylippus, "Let

pity, O Gylippus," said he, "move you in your victory; not for me,

who was destined, it seems, to bring the glory I once had to this

end, but for the other Athenians; as you well know that the chances

of war are common to all, and the Athenians used them moderately

and mildly towards you in their prosperity."

At these words, and at the sight of Nicias, Gylippus was somewhat

troubled, for he was sensible that the Lacedaemonians had received

good offices from Nicias in the late treaty; and he thought it

would be a great and glorious thing for him to carry off the chief

commanders of the Athenians alive.  He, therefore, raised Nicias

with respect, and bade him be of good cheer, and commanded his men

to spare the lives of the rest.  But the word of command being

communicated slowly, the slain were a far greater number than the

prisoners.  Many, however, were privily conveyed away by particular

soldiers.  Those taken openly were hurried together in a mass;

their arms and spoils hung up on the finest and largest trees along

the river.  The conquerors, with garlands on their heads, with

their own horses splendidly adorned, and cropping short the manes

and tails of those of their enemies, entered the city, having, in

the most signal conflict ever waged by Greeks against Greeks, and

with the greatest strength and the utmost effort of valor and

manhood, won a most entire victory.

And a general assembly of the people of Syracuse and their

confederates sitting, Eurycles, the popular leader, moved, first,

that the day on which they took Nicias should from thenceforward be

kept holiday by sacrificing and forbearing all manner of work, and

from the river be called the Asinarian Feast.  This was the

twenty-sixth day of the month Carneus, the Athenian Metagitnion.

And that the servants of the Athenians with the other confederates

be sold for slaves, and they themselves and the Sicilian

auxiliaries be kept and employed in the quarries, except the

generals, who should be put to death.  The Syracusans favored the

proposal, and when Hermocrates said, that to use well a victory was

better than to gain a victory, he was met with great clamor and

outcry.  When Gylippus, also, demanded the Athenian generals to be

delivered to him, that he might carry them to the Lacedaemonians,

the Syracusans, now insolent with their good fortune, gave him ill

words.  Indeed, before this, even in the war, they had been

impatient at his rough behavior and Lacedaemonian haughtiness, and

had, as Timaeus tells us, discovered sordidness and avarice in his

character, vices which may have descended to him from his father

Cleandrides, who was convicted of bribery and banished.  And the

very man himself, of the one thousand talents which Lysander sent

to Sparta, embezzled thirty, and hid them under the tiles of his

house, and was detected and shamefully fled his country.  But this

is related more at large in the life of Lysander.  Timaeus says

that Demosthenes and Nicias did not die, as Thucydides and

Philistus have written, by the order of the Syracusans, but that

upon a message sent them from Hermocrates, whilst yet the assembly

were sitting, by the connivance of some of their guards, they were

enabled to put an end to themselves.  Their bodies, however, were

thrown out before the gates and offered for a public spectacle.

And I have heard that to this day in a temple at Syracuse is shown

a shield, said to have been Nicias's, curiously wrought and

embroidered with gold and purple intermixed.  Most of the Athenians

perished in the quarries by diseases and ill diet, being allowed

only one pint of barley every day, and one half pint of water.

Many of them, however, were carried off by stealth, or, from the

first, were supposed to be servants, and were sold as slaves.

These latter were branded on their foreheads with the figure of a

horse.  There were, however, Athenians, who, in addition to

slavery, had to endure even this.  But their discreet and orderly

conduct was an advantage to them; they were either soon set free,

or won the respect of their masters with whom they continued to

live.  Several were saved for the sake of Euripides, whose poetry,

it appears, was in request among the Sicilians more than among any

of the settlers out of Greece.  And when any travelers arrived that

could tell them some passage, or give them any specimen of his

verses, they were delighted to be able to communicate them to one

another.  Many of the captives who got safe back to Athens are

said, after they reached home, to have gone and made their

acknowledgments to Euripides, relating how that some of them had

been released from their slavery by teaching what they could

remember of his poems, and others, when straggling after the fight,

been relieved with meat and drink for repeating some of his lyrics.

Nor need this be any wonder, for it is told that a ship of Caunus

fleeing into one of their harbors for protection, pursued by

pirates, was not received, but forced back, till one asked if they

knew any of Euripides's verses, and on their saying they did, they

were admitted, and their ship brought into harbor.

It is said that the Athenians would not believe their loss, in a

great degree because of the person who first brought them news of

it.  For a certain stranger, it seems, coming to Piraeus, and there

sitting in a barber's shop, began to talk of what had happened, as

if the Athenians already knew all that had passed; which the barber

hearing, before he acquainted anybody else, ran as fast as he could

up into the city, addressed himself to the Archons, and presently

spread it about in the public Place.  On which, there being

everywhere, as may be imagined, terror and consternation, the

Archons summoned a general assembly, and there brought in the man

and questioned him how he came to know.  And he, giving no

satisfactory account, was taken for a spreader of false

intelligence and a disturber of the city, and was, therefore,

fastened to the wheel and racked a long time, till other messengers

arrived that related the whole disaster particularly.  So hardly

was Nicias believed to have suffered the calamity which he had

often predicted.

CRASSUS

Marcus Crassus, whose father had borne the office of a censor, and

received the honor of a triumph, was educated in a little house

together with his two brothers, who both married in their parents'

lifetime; they kept but one table amongst them; all which,

perhaps, was not the least reason of his own temperance and

moderation in diet.  One of his brothers dying, he married his

widow, by whom he had his children; neither was there in these

respects any of the Romans who lived a more orderly life than he

did, though later in life he was suspected to have been too

familiar with one of the vestal virgins, named Licinia, who was,

nevertheless, acquitted, upon an impeachment brought against her

by one Plotinus.  Licinia stood possessed of a beautiful property

in the suburbs, which Crassus desiring to purchase at a low price,

for this reason was frequent in his attentions to her, which gave

occasion to the scandal, and his avarice, so to say, serving to

clear him of the crime, he was acquitted.  Nor did he leave the

lady till he had got the estate.

People were wont to say that the many virtues of Crassus were

darkened by the one vice of avarice, and indeed he seemed to have

no other but that; for it being the most predominant, obscured

others to which he was inclined.  The arguments in proof of his

avarice were the vastness of his estate, and the manner of raising

it; for whereas at first he was not worth above three hundred

talents, yet, though in the course of his political life he

dedicated the tenth of all he had to Hercules, and feasted the

people, and gave to every citizen corn enough to serve him three

months, upon casting up his accounts, before he went upon his

Parthian expedition, he found his possessions to amount to seven

thousand one hundred talents; most of which, if we may scandal him

with a truth, he got by fire and rapine, making his advantages of

the public calamities.  For when Sylla seized the city, and

exposed to sale the goods of those that he had caused to be slain,

accounting them booty and spoils, and, indeed, calling them so

too, and was desirous of making as many, and as eminent men as he

could, partakers in the crime, Crassus never was the man that

refused to accept, or give money for them.  Moreover observing how

extremely subject the city was to fire, and falling down of

houses, by reason of their height and their standing so near

together, he bought slaves that were builders and architects, and

when he had collected these to the number of more than five

hundred, he made it his practice to buy houses that were on fire,

and those in the neighborhood, which, in the immediate danger and

uncertainty, the proprietors were willing to part with for little,

or nothing; so that the greatest part of Rome, at one time or

other, came into his hands.  Yet for all he had so many workmen,

he never built anything but his own house, and used to say that

those that were addicted to building would undo themselves soon

enough without the help of other enemies.  And though he had many

silver mines, and much valuable land, and laborers to work in it,

yet all this was nothing in comparison of his slaves, such a

number and variety did he possess of excellent readers,

amanuenses, silversmiths, stewards, and table-waiters, whose

instruction he always attended to himself, superintending in

person while they learned, and teaching them himself, accounting

it the main duty of a master to look over the servants, that are,

indeed, the living tools of housekeeping; and in this, indeed, he

was in the right, in thinking, that is, as he used to say, that

servants ought to look after all other things, and the master

after them.  For economy, which in things inanimate is but

money-making when exercised over men becomes policy. But it was

surely a mistaken judgment, when he said no man was to be

accounted rich that could not maintain an army at his own cost and

charges, for war, as Archidamus well observed, is not fed at a

fixed allowance, so that there is no saying what wealth suffices

for it, and certainly it was one very far removed from that of

Marius; for when he had distributed fourteen acres of land a man,

and understood that some desired more, "God forbid," said he,

"that any Roman should think that too little which is enough to

keep him alive and well."

Crassus, however, was very eager to be hospitable to strangers; he

kept open house, and to his friends he would lend money without

interest, but called it in precisely at the time; so that his

kindness was often thought worse than the paying the interest

would have been.  His entertainments were, for the most part,

plain and citizenlike, the company general and popular; good taste

and kindness made them pleasanter than sumptuosity would have

done.  As for learning, he chiefly cared for rhetoric, and what

would be serviceable with large numbers; he became one of the best

speakers at Rome, and by his pains and industry outdid the best

natural orators.  For there was no trial how mean and contemptible

soever that he came to unprepared; nay, several times he undertook

and concluded a cause, when Pompey and Caesar and Cicero refused

to stand up, upon which account particularly he got the love of

the people, who looked upon him as a diligent and careful man,

ready to help and succor his fellow-citizens.  Besides, the people

were pleased with his courteous and unpretending salutations and

greetings; for he never met any citizen however humble and low,

but he returned him his salute by name.  He was looked upon as a

man well-read in history, and pretty well versed in Aristotle's

philosophy, in which one Alexander instructed him, a man whose

intercourse with Crassus gave a sufficient proof of his

good-nature, and gentle disposition; for it is hard to say whether

he was poorer when he entered into his service, or while he

continued in it; for being his only friend that used to accompany

him when traveling, he used to receive from him a cloak for the

journey, and when he came home had it demanded from him again;

poor patient sufferer, when even the philosophy he professed did

not look upon poverty as a thing indifferent. But of this

hereafter.

When Cinna and Marius got the power in their hands, it was soon

perceived that they had not come back for any good they intended

to their country, but to effect the ruin and utter destruction of

the nobility.  And as many as they could lay their hands on they

slew, amongst whom were Crassus's father and brother; he himself,

being very young, for the moment escaped the danger; but

understanding that he was every way beset and hunted after by the

tyrants, taking with him three friends and ten servants, with all

possible speed he fled into Spain, having formerly been there and

secured a great number of friends, while his father was Praetor of

that country.  But finding all people in a consternation, and

trembling at the cruelty of Marius, as if he was already standing

over them in person, he durst not discover himself to anybody, but

hid himself in a large cave, which was by the sea-shore, and

belonged to Vibius Pacianus, to whom he sent one of his servants

to sound him, his provisions, also, beginning to fail.  Vibius was

well pleased at his escape, and inquiring the place of his abode

and the number of his companions, he went not to him himself, but

commanded his steward to provide every day a good meal's meat, and

carry it and leave it near such a rock, and so return without

taking any further notice or being inquisitive, promising him his

liberty if he did as he commanded, and that he would kill him if

he intermeddled.  The cave is not far from the sea; a small and

insignificant looking opening in the cliffs conducts you in; when

you are entered, a wonderfully high roof spreads above you, and

large chambers open out one beyond another, nor does it lack

either water or light, for a very pleasant and wholesome spring

runs at the foot of the cliffs, and natural chinks, in the most

advantageous place, let in the light all day long; and the

thickness of the rock makes the air within pure and clear, all the

wet and moisture being carried off into the spring.

While Crassus remained here, the steward brought them what was

necessary, but never saw them, nor knew anything of the matter,

though they within saw, and expected him at the customary times.

Neither was their entertainment such as just to keep them alive,

but given them in abundance and for their enjoyment; for Pacianus

resolved to treat him with all imaginable kindness, and

considering he was a young man, thought it well to gratify a

little his youthful inclinations; for to give just what is

needful, seems rather to come from necessity than from a hearty

friendship.  Once taking with him two female servants, he showed

them the place and bade them go in boldly, whom when Crassus and

his friends saw, they were afraid of being betrayed, and demanded

what they were, and what they would have.  They, according as they

were instructed, answered, they came to wait upon their master who

was hid in that cave.  And so Crassus perceiving it was a piece of

pleasantry and of goodwill on the part of Vibius, took them in and

kept them there with him as long as he stayed, and employed them

to give information to Vibius of what they wanted, and how they

were.  Fenestella says he saw one of them, then very old, and

often heard her speak of the time and repeat the story with

pleasure.

After Crassus had lain concealed there eight months, on hearing

that Cinna was dead, he appeared abroad, and a great number of

people flocking to him, out of whom he selected a body of two

thousand five hundred, he visited many cities, and, as some write,

sacked Malaca, which he himself, however, always denied, and

contradicted all who said so.  Afterwards, getting together some

ships, he passed into Africa, and joined with Metellus Pius, an

eminent person that had raised a very considerable force; but upon

some difference between him and Metellus, he stayed not long

there, but went over to Sylla, by whom he was very much esteemed.

When Sylla passed over into Italy, he was anxious to put all the

young men that were with him in employment; and as he dispatched

some one way, and some another, Crassus, on its falling to his

share to raise men among the Marsians, demanded a guard, being to

pass through the enemy's country, upon which Sylla replied

sharply, "I give you for guard your father, your brother, your

friends and kindred, whose unjust and cruel murder I am now going

to revenge;" and Crassus, being nettled, went his way, broke

boldly through the enemy, collected a considerable force, and in

all Sylla's wars acted with great zeal and courage.  And in these

times and occasions, they say, began the emulation and rivalry for

glory between him and Pompey; for though Pompey was the younger

man, and had the disadvantage to be descended of a father that was

disesteemed by the citizens, and hated as much as ever man was,

yet in these actions he shone out, and was proved so great, that

Sylla always used, when he came in, to stand up and uncover his

head, an honor which he seldom showed to older men and his own

equals, and always saluted him Imperator.  This fired and stung

Crassus, though, indeed, he could not with any fairness claim to

be preferred; for he both wanted experience, and his two innate

vices, sordidness and avarice, tarnished all the lustre of his

actions.  For when he had taken Tudertia, a town of the Umbrians,

he converted, it was said, all the spoil to his own use, for which

he was complained of to Sylla.  But in the last and greatest

battle before Rome itself, where Sylla was worsted, some of his

battalions giving ground, and others being quite broken, Crassus

got the victory on the right wing, which he commanded, and pursued

the enemy till night, and then sent to Sylla to acquaint him with

his success, and demand provision for his soldiers.  In the time,

however, of the proscriptions and sequestrations, he lost his

repute again, by making great purchases for little or nothing, and

asking for grants.  Nay, they say he proscribed one of the

Bruttians without Sylla's order, only for his own profit, and

that, on discovering this, Sylla never after trusted him in any

public affairs.  As no man was more cunning than Crassus to

ensnare others by flattery, so no man lay more open to it, or

swallowed it more greedily than himself.  And this particularly

was observed of him, that though he was the most covetous man in

the world, yet he habitually disliked and cried out against others

who were so.

It troubled him to see Pompey so successful in all his

undertakings; that he had had a triumph before he was capable to

sit in the senate, and that the people had surnamed him Magnus, or

the Great.  When somebody was saying Pompey the Great was coming,

he smiled, and asked him, "How big is he?"  Despairing to equal

him by feats of arms, he betook himself to civil life, where by

doing kindnesses, pleading, lending money, by speaking and

canvassing among the people for those who had objects to obtain

from them, he gradually gained as great honor and power as Pompey

had from his many famous expeditions.  And it was a curious thing

in their rivalry, that Pompey's name and interest in the city was

greatest when he was absent, for his renown in war, but when

present he was often less successful than Crassus, by reason of

his superciliousness and haughty way of living, shunning crowds of

people, and appearing rarely in the forum, and assisting only some

few, and that not readily, that his interest might be the stronger

when he came to use it for himself.  Whereas Crassus, being a

friend always at hand, ready to be had and easy of access, and

always with his hands full of other people's business, with his

freedom and courtesy, got the better of Pompey's formality.  In

point of dignity of person, eloquence of language, and

attractiveness of countenance, they were pretty equally excellent.

But, however, this emulation never transported Crassus so far as

to make him bear enmity, or any ill-will; for though he was vexed

to see Pompey and Caesar preferred to him, yet he never minded any

hostility or malice with his jealousy; though Caesar when he was

taken captive by the corsairs in Asia, cried out, "O Crassus, how

glad you will be at the news of my captivity!"  Afterwards they

lived together on friendly terms, for when Caesar was going

praetor into Spain, and his creditors, he being then in want of

money, came upon him and seized his equipage, Crassus then stood

by him and relieved him, and was his security for eight hundred

and thirty talents.  And, in general, Rome being divided into

three great interests, those of Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus, (for

as for Cato, his fame was greater than his power, and he was

rather admired than followed,) the sober and quiet part were for

Pompey, the restless and hotheaded followed Caesar's ambition, but

Crassus trimmed between them, making advantages of both, and

changed sides continually, being neither a trusty friend nor an

implacable enemy, and easily abandoned both his attachments and

his animosities, as he found it for his advantage, so that in

short spaces of time, the same men and the same measures had him

both as their supporter and as their opponent.  He was much liked,

but was feared as much or even more.  At any rate, when Sicinius,

who was the greatest troubler of the magistrates and ministers of

his time, was asked how it was he let Crassus alone, "Oh," said

he, "he carries hay on his horns," alluding to the custom of tying

hay to the horns of a bull that used to butt, that people might

keep out of his way.

The insurrection of the gladiators and the devastation of Italy,

commonly called the war of Spartacus, began upon this occasion.

One Lentulus Batiates trained up a great many gladiators in Capua,

most of them Gauls and Thracians, who, not for any fault by them

committed, but simply through the cruelty of their master, were

kept in confinement for this object of fighting one with another.

Two hundred of these formed a plan to escape, but their plot being

discovered, those of them who became aware of it in time to

anticipate their master, being seventy-eight, got out of a cook's

shop chopping-knives and spits, and made their way through the

city, and lighting by the way on several wagons that were carrying

gladiator's arms to another city, they seized upon them and armed

themselves.  And seizing upon a defensible place, they chose three

captains, of whom Spartacus was chief, a Thracian of one of the

nomad tribes, and a man not only of high spirit and valiant, but

in understanding, also, and in gentleness, superior to his

condition, and more of a Grecian than the people of his country

usually are.  When he first came to be sold at Rome, they say a

snake coiled itself upon his face as he lay asleep, and his wife,

who at this latter time also accompanied him in his flight, his

country-woman, a kind of prophetess, and one of those possessed

with the bacchanal frenzy, declared that it was a sign portending

great and formidable power to him with no happy event.

First, then, routing those that came out of Capua against them,

and thus procuring a quantity of proper soldiers' arms, they

gladly threw away their own as barbarous and dishonorable.

Afterwards Clodius, the praetor, took the command against them

with a body of three thousand men from Rome, and besieged them

within a mountain, accessible only by one narrow and difficult

passage, which Clodius kept guarded, encompassed on all other

sides with steep and slippery precipices.  Upon the top, however,

grew a great many wild vines, and cutting down as many of their

boughs as they had need of, they twisted them into strong ladders

long enough to reach from thence to the bottom, by which, without

any danger, they got down all but one, who stayed there to throw

them down their arms, and after this succeeded in saving himself.

The Romans were ignorant of all this, and, therefore, coming upon

them in the rear, they assaulted them unawares and took their

camp.  Several, also, of the shepherds and herdsman that were

there, stout and nimble fellows, revolted over to them, to some of

whom they gave complete arms, and made use of others as scouts and

light-armed soldiers.  Publius Varinus, the praetor, was now sent

against them, whose lieutenant, Furius, with two thousand men,

they fought and routed.  Then Cossinius was sent, with

considerable forces, to give his assistance and advice, and him

Spartacus missed but very little of capturing in person, as he was

bathing at Salinae; for he with great difficulty made his escape,

while Spartacus possessed himself of his baggage, and following

the chase with a great slaughter, stormed his camp and took it,

where Cossinius himself was slain.  After many successful

skirmishes with the praetor himself, in one of which he took his

lictors and his own horse, he began to be great and terrible; but

wisely considering that he was not to expect to match the force of

the empire, he marched his army towards the Alps, intending, when

he had passed them, that every man should go to his own home, some

to Thrace, some to Gaul.  But they, grown confident in their

numbers, and puffed up with their success, would give no obedience

to him, but went about and ravaged Italy; so that now the senate

was not only moved at the indignity and baseness, both of the

enemy and of the insurrection, but, looking upon it as a matter of

alarm and of dangerous consequence, sent out both the consuls to

it, as to a great and difficult enterprise.  The consul Gellius,

falling suddenly upon a party of Germans, who through contempt and

confidence had straggled from Spartacus, cut them all to pieces.

But when Lentulus with a large army besieged Spartacus, he sallied

out upon him, and, joining battle, defeated his chief officers,

and captured all his baggage.  As he made toward the Alps,

Cassius, who was praetor of that part of Gaul that lies about the

Po, met him with ten thousand men, but being overcome in battle,

he had much ado to escape himself, with the loss of a great many

of his men.

When the senate understood this, they were displeased at the

consuls, and ordering them to meddle no further, they appointed

Crassus general of the war, and a great many of the nobility went

volunteers with him, partly out of friendship, and partly to get

honor.  He stayed himself on the borders of Picenum, expecting

Spartacus would come that way, and sent his lieutenant, Mummius,

with two legions, to wheel about and observe the enemy's motions,

but upon no account to engage or skirmish.  But he, upon the first

opportunity, joined battle, and was routed, having a great many

of his men slain, and a great many only saving their lives, with

the loss of their arms.  Crassus rebuked Mummius severely, and

arming the soldiers again, he made them find sureties for their

arms, that they would part with them no more, and five hundred

that were the beginners of the flight, he divided into fifty tens,

and one of each was to die by lot, thus reviving the ancient Roman

punishment of decimation, where ignominy is added to the penalty

of death, with a variety of appalling and terrible circumstances,

presented before the eyes of the whole army, assembled as

spectators.  When he had thus reclaimed his men, he led them

against the enemy; but Spartacus retreated through Lucania toward

the sea, and in the straits meeting with some Cilician pirate

ships, he had thoughts of attempting Sicily, where, by landing two

thousand men, he hoped to new kindle the war of the slaves, which

was but lately extinguished, and seemed to need but a little fuel

to set it burning again.  But after the pirates had struck a

bargain with him, and received his earnest, they deceived him and

sailed away.  He thereupon retired again from the sea, and

established his army in the peninsula of Rhegium; there Crassus

came upon him, and considering the nature of the place, which of

itself suggested the undertaking, he set to work to build a wall

across the isthmus; thus keeping his soldiers at once from

idleness, and his foes from forage.  This great and difficult work

he perfected in a space of time short beyond all expectation,

making a ditch from one sea to the other, over the neck of land,

three hundred furlongs long, fifteen feet broad, and as much in

depth, and above it built a wonderfully high and strong wall.  All

which Spartacus at first slighted and despised, but when

provisions began to fail, and on his proposing to pass further, he

found he was walled in, and no more was to be had in the

peninsula, taking the opportunity of a snowy, stormy night, he

filled up part of the ditch with earth and boughs of trees, and so

passed the third part of his army over.

Crassus was afraid lest he should march directly to Rome, but was

soon eased of that fear when he saw many of his men break out in a

mutiny and quit him, and encamp by themselves upon the Lucanian

lake.  This lake they say changes at intervals of time, and is

sometimes sweet, and sometimes so salt that it cannot be drunk.

Crassus falling upon these beat them from the lake, but he could

not pursue the slaughter, because of Spartacus suddenly coming up,

and checking the flight.  Now he began to repent that he had

previously written to the senate to call Lucullus out of Thrace,

and Pompey out of Spain; so that he did all he could to finish the

war before they came, knowing that the honor of the action would

redound to him that came to his assistance.  Resolving, therefore,

first to set upon those that had mutinied and encamped apart, whom

Caius Cannicius and Castus commanded, he sent six thousand men

before to secure a little eminence, and to do it as privately as

possible, which that they might do, they covered their helmets,

but being discovered by two women that were sacrificing for the

enemy, they had been in great hazard, had not Crassus immediately

appeared, and engaged in a battle which proved a most bloody one.

Of twelve thousand three hundred whom he killed, two only were

found wounded in their backs, the rest all having died standing in

their ranks, and fighting bravely.  Spartacus, after this

discomfiture, retired to the mountains of Petelia, but Quintius,

one of Crassus's officers, and Scrofa, the quaestor, pursued and

overtook him.  But when Spartacus rallied and faced them, they

were utterly routed and fled, and had much ado to carry off their

quaestor, who was wounded.  This success, however, ruined

Spartacus, because it encouraged the slaves, who now disdained any

longer to avoid fighting, or to obey their officers, but as they

were upon their march, they came to them with their swords in

their hand, and compelled them to lead them back again through

Lucania, against the Romans, the very thing which Crassus was

eager for.  For news was already brought that Pompey was at hand;

and people began to talk openly, that the honor of this war was

reserved for him, who would come and at once oblige the enemy to

fight and put an end to the war.  Crassus, therefore, eager to

fight a decisive battle, encamped very near the enemy, and began

to make lines of circumvallation; but the slaves made a sally, and

attacked the pioneers.  As fresh supplies came in on either side,

Spartacus, seeing there was no avoiding it, set all his army in

array, and when his horse was brought him, he drew out his sword

and killed him, saying, if he got the day, he should have a great

many better horses of the enemies, and if he lost it, he should

have no need of this.  And so making directly towards Crassus

himself, through the midst of arms and wounds, he missed him, hut

slew two centurions that fell upon him together.  At last being

deserted by those that were about him, he himself stood his

ground, and, surrounded by the enemy, bravely defending himself,

was cut in pieces.  But though Crassus had good fortune, and not

only did the part of a good general, but gallantly exposed his

person, yet Pompey had much of the credit of the action.  For he

met with many of the fugitives, and slew them, and wrote to the

senate that Crassus indeed had vanquished the slaves in a pitched

battle, but that he had put an end to the war.  Pompey was honored

with a magnificent triumph for his conquest over Sertorius and

Spain, while Crassus could not himself so much as desire a triumph

in its full form, and indeed it was thought to look but meanly in

him to accept of the lesser honor, called the ovation, for a

servile war, and perform a procession on foot.  The difference

between this and the other, and the origin of the name, are

explained in the life of Marcellus.

And Pompey being immediately invited to the consulship, Crassus,

who had hoped to be joined with him, did not scruple to request

his assistance.  Pompey most readily seized the opportunity, as he

desired by all means to lay some obligation upon Crassus, and

zealously promoted his interest; and at last he declared in one of

his speeches to the people, that he should be not less beholden to

them for his colleague, than for the honor of his own appointment.

But once entered upon the employment, this amity continued not

long; but differing almost in everything, disagreeing,

quarreling, and contending, they spent the time of their

consulship, without effecting any measure of consequence, except

that Crassus made a great sacrifice to Hercules, and feasted the

people at ten thousand tables, and measured them out corn for

three months.  When their command was now ready to expire, and

they were, as it happened addressing the people, a Roman knight,

one Onatius Aurelius, an ordinary private person, living in the

country, mounted the hustings, and declared a vision he had in his

sleep:  "Jupiter," said he, "appeared to me, and commanded me to

tell you, that you should not suffer your consuls to lay down

their charge before they are made friends."  When he had spoken,

the people cried out that they should be reconciled.  Pompey stood

still and said nothing, but Crassus, first offering him his hand,

said, "I cannot think, my countrymen, that I do any thing

humiliating or unworthy of myself, if I make the first offers of

accommodation and friendship with Pompey, whom you yourselves

styled the Great, before he was of man's estate, and decreed him a

triumph before he was capable of sitting in the senate."

This is what was memorable in Crassus's consulship, but as for his

censorship, that was altogether idle and inactive, for he neither

made a scrutiny of the senate, nor took a review of the horsemen,

nor a census of the people, though he had as mild a man as could

be desired for his colleague, Lutatius Catulus.  It is said,

indeed, that when Crassus intended a violent and unjust measure,

which was the reducing Egypt to be tributary to Rome, Catulus

strongly opposed it, and falling out about it, they laid down

their office by consent.  In the great conspiracy of Catiline,

which was very near subverting the government, Crassus was not

without some suspicion of being concerned, and one man came

forward and declared him to be in the plot; but nobody credited

him.  Yet Cicero, in one of his orations, clearly charges both

Crassus and Caesar with the guilt of it, though that speech was

not published till they were both dead.  But in his speech upon

his consulship, he declares that Crassus came to him by night, and

brought a letter concerning Catiline, stating the details of the

conspiracy.  Crassus hated him ever after, but was hindered by his

son from doing him any open injury; for Publius was a great lover

of learning and eloquence, and a constant follower of Cicero,

insomuch that he put himself into mourning when he was accused,

and induced the other young men to do the same.  And at last he

reconciled him to his father.

Caesar now returning from his command, and designing to get the

consulship, and seeing that Crassus and Pompey were again at

variance, was unwilling to disoblige one by making application to

the other, and despaired of success without the help of one of

them; he therefore made it his business to reconcile them, making

it appear that by weakening each other's influence they were

promoting the interest of the Ciceros, the Catuli, and the Catos,

who would really be of no account if they would join their

interests and their factions, and act together in public with one

policy and one united power.  And so reconciling them by his

persuasions, out of the three parties he set up one irresistible

power, which utterly subverted the government both of senate and

people.  Not that he made either Pompey or Crassus greater than

they were before, but by their means made himself greatest of all;

for by the help of the adherents of both, he was at once

gloriously declared consul, which office when he administered with

credit, they decreed him the command of an army, and allotted him

Gaul for his province, and so placed him as it were in the

citadel, not doubting but they should divide the rest at their

pleasure between themselves, when they had confirmed him in his

allotted command.  Pompey was actuated in all this by an

immoderate desire of ruling, but Crassus, adding to his old

disease of covetousness, a new passion after trophies and

triumphs, emulous of Caesar's exploits, not content to be beneath

him in these points, though above him in all others, could not be

at rest, till it ended in an ignominious overthrow, and a public

calamity.  When Caesar came out of Gaul to Lucca, a great many

went thither from Rome to meet him.  Pompey and Crassus had

various conferences with him in secret, in which they came to the

resolution to proceed to still more decisive steps, and to get the

whole management of affairs into their hands, Caesar to keep his

army, and Pompey and Crassus to obtain new ones and new provinces.

To effect all which there was but one way, the getting the

consulate a second time, which they were to stand for, and Caesar

to assist them by writing to his friends, and sending many of his

soldiers to vote.

But when they returned to Rome, their design was presently

suspected, and a report was soon spread that this interview had

been for no good.  When Marcellinus and Domitius asked Pompey in

the senate if he intended to stand for the consulship, he

answered, perhaps he would, perhaps not; and being urged again,

replied, he would ask it of the honest citizens, but not of the

dishonest.  Which answer appearing too haughty and arrogant,

Crassus said, more modestly, that he would desire it if it might

be for the advantage of the public, otherwise he would decline it.

Upon this some others took confidence and came forward as

candidates, among them Domitius.  But when Pompey and Crassus now

openly appeared for it, the rest were afraid and drew back; only

Cato encouraged Domitius, who was his friend and relation, to

proceed, exciting him to persist, as though he was now defending

the public liberty, as these men, he said, did not so much aim at

the consulate, as at arbitrary government, and it was not a

petition for office, but a seizure of provinces and armies.  Thus

spoke and thought Cato, and almost forcibly compelled Domitius to

appear in the forum, where many sided with them.  For there was,

indeed, much wonder and question among the people, "Why should

Pompey and Crassus want another consulship? and why they two

together, and not with some third person? We have a great many men

not unworthy to be fellow-consuls with either the one or the

other."  Pompey's party, being apprehensive of this, committed all

manner of indecencies and violences, and amongst other things lay

in wait for Domitius, as he was coming thither before daybreak

with his friends; his torchbearer they killed, and wounded several

others, of whom Cato was one.  And these being beaten back and

driven into a house, Pompey and Crassus were proclaimed consuls.

Not long after, they surrounded the house with armed men, thrust

Cato out of the forum, killed some that made resistance, and

decreed Caesar his command for five years longer, and provinces

for themselves, Syria, and both the Spains, which being divided by

lots, Syria fell to Crassus, and the Spains to Pompey.

All were well pleased with the chance, for the people were

desirous that Pompey should not go far from the city, and he,

being extremely fond of his wife, was very glad to continue there;

but Crassus was so transported with his fortune, that it was

manifest he thought he had never had such good luck befall him as

now, so that he had much to do to contain himself before company

and strangers; but amongst his private friends he let fall many

vain and childish words, which were unworthy of his age, and

contrary to his usual character, for he had been very little given

to boasting hitherto.  But then being strangely puffed up, and his

head heated, he would not limit his fortune with Parthia and

Syria; but looking on the actions of Lucullus against Tigranes and

the exploits of Pompey against Mithridates as but child's play, he

proposed to himself in his hopes to pass as far as Bactria and

India, and the utmost ocean.  Not that he was called upon by the

decree which appointed him to his office to undertake any

expedition against the Parthians, but it was well known that he

was eager for it, and Caesar wrote to him out of Gaul, commending

his resolution, and inciting him to the war.  And when Ateius, the

tribune of the people, designed to stop his journey, and many

others murmured that one man should undertake a war against a

people that had done them no injury, and were at amity with them,

he desired Pompey to stand by him and accompany him out of the

town, as he had a great name amongst the common people.  And when

several were ready prepared to interfere and raise an outcry,

Pompey appeared with a pleasing countenance, and so mollified the

people, that they let Crassus pass quietly.  Ateius, however, met

him, and first by word of mouth warned and conjured him not to

proceed, and then commanded his attendant officer to seize him and

detain him; but the other tribunes not permitting it, the officer

released Crassus.  Ateius, therefore, running to the gate, when

Crassus was come thither, set down a chafing-dish with lighted

fire in it, and burning incense and pouring libations on it,

cursed him with dreadful imprecations, calling upon and naming

several strange and horrible deities.  In the Roman belief there

is so much virtue in these sacred and ancient rites, that no man

can escape the effects of them, and that the utterer himself

seldom prospers; so that they are not often made use of, and but

upon a great occasion.  And Ateius was blamed at the time for

resorting to them, as the city itself, in whose cause he used

them, would be the first to feel the ill effects of these curses

and supernatural terrors.

Crassus arrived at Brundusium, and though the sea was very rough,

he had not patience to wait, but went on board, and lost many of

his ships.  With the remnant of his army he marched rapidly

through Galatia, where meeting with king Deiotarus, who, though he

was very old, was about building a new city, Crassus scoffingly

told him, "Your majesty begins to build at the twelfth hour."

"Neither do you," said he, "O general, undertake your Parthian

expedition very early."  For Crassus was then sixty years old, and

he seemed older than he was.  At his first coming, things went as

he would have them, for he made a bridge over Euphrates without

much difficulty, and passed over his army in safety, and occupied

many cities of Mesopotamia, which yielded voluntarily.  But a

hundred of his men were killed in one, in which Apollonius was

tyrant; therefore, bringing his forces against it, he took it by

storm, plundered the goods, and sold the inhabitants.  The Greeks

call this city Zenodotia, upon the taking of which, he permitted

the army to salute him Imperator, but this was very ill thought

of, and it looked as if he despaired a nobler achievement, that he

made so much of this little success.  Putting garrisons of seven

thousand foot and one thousand horse in the new conquests, he

returned to take up his winter quarters in Syria, where his son

was to meet him coming from Caesar out of Gaul, decorated with

rewards for his valor, and bringing with him one thousand select

horse.  Here Crassus seemed to commit his first error, and except,

indeed, the whole expedition, his greatest; for, whereas he ought

to have gone forward and seized Babylon and Seleucia, cities that

were ever at enmity with the Parthians, he gave the enemy time to

provide against him.  Besides, he spent his time in Syria more

like an usurer than a general, not in taking an account of the

arms, and in improving the skill and discipline of his soldiers,

but in computing the revenue of the cities, wasting many days in

weighing by scale and balance the treasure that was in the temple

of Hierapolis, issuing requisitions for levies of soldiers upon

particular towns and kingdoms, and then again withdrawing them on

payment of sums of money, by which he lost his credit and became

despised.  Here, too, he met with the first ill-omen from that

goddess, whom some call Venus, others Juno, others Nature, or the

Cause that produces out of moisture the first principles and seeds

of all things, and gives mankind their earliest knowledge of all

that is good for them.  For as they were going out of the temple,

young Crassus stumbled, and his father fell upon him.

When he drew his army out of winter quarters, ambassadors came to

him from Arsaces, with this short speech:  If the army was sent

by the people of Rome, he denounced mortal war, but if, as he

understood was the case, against the consent of his country,

Crassus for his own private profit had invaded his territory, then

their king would be more merciful, and taking pity upon Crassus's

dotage, would send those soldiers back, who had been left not so

truly to keep guard on him as to be his prisoners.  Crassus

boastfully told them he would return his answer at Seleucia, upon

which Vagises, the eldest of them, laughed and showed the palm of

his hand, saying, "Hail will grow here before you will see

Seleucia;" so they returned to their king, Hyrodes, telling him it

was war.  Several of the Romans that were in garrison in

Mesopotamia with great hazard made their escape, and brought word

that the danger was worth consideration, urging their own

eye-witness of the numbers of the enemy, and the manner of their

fighting, when they assaulted their towns; and, as men's manner

is, made all seem greater than really it was.  By flight it was

impossible to escape them, and as impossible to overtake them when

they fled, and they had a new and strange sort of darts, as swift

as sight, for they pierced whatever they met with, before you

could see who threw; their men-at-arms were so provided that their

weapons would cut through anything, and their armor give way to

nothing.  All which when the soldiers heard, their hearts failed

them; for till now they thought there was no difference between

the Parthians and the Armenians or Cappadocians, whom Lucullus

grew weary with plundering, and had been persuaded that the main

difficulty of the war consisted only in the tediousness of the

march, and the trouble of chasing men that durst not come to

blows, so that the danger of a battle was beyond their

expectation; accordingly, some of the officers advised Crassus to

proceed no further at present, but reconsider the whole

enterprise, amongst whom in particular was Cassius, the quaestor.

The soothsayers, also, told him privately the signs found in the

sacrifices were continually adverse and unfavorable.  But he paid

no heed to them, or to anybody who gave any other advice than to

proceed.  Nor did Artabazes, king of Armenia, confirm him a

little, who came to his aid with six thousand horse; who, however,

were said to be only the king's life-guard and suite, for he

promised ten thousand cuirassiers more, and thirty thousand foot,

at his own charge.  He urged Crassus to invade Parthia by the way

of Armenia, for not only would he be able there to supply his army

with abundant provision, which he would give him, but his passage

would be more secure in the mountains and hills, with which the

whole country was covered, making it almost impassable to horse,

in which the main strength of the Parthians consisted.  Crassus

returned him but cold thanks for his readiness to serve him, and

for the splendor of his assistance, and told him he was resolved

to pass through Mesopotamia, where he had left a great many brave

Roman soldiers; whereupon the Armenian went his way.  As Crassus

was taking the army over the river at Zeugma, he encountered

preternaturally violent thunder, and the lightning flashed in the

faces of the troops, and during the storm a hurricane broke upon

the bridge, and carried part of it away; two thunderbolts fell

upon the very place where the army was going to encamp; and one of

the general's horses, magnificently caparisoned, dragged away the

groom into the river and was drowned.  It is said, too, that when

they went to take up the first standard, the eagle of itself

turned its head backward; and after he had passed over his army,

as they were distributing provisions, the first thing they gave

was lentils and salt, which with the Romans are the food proper to

funerals, and are offered to the dead.  And as Crassus was

haranguing his soldiers, he let fall a word which was thought very

ominous in the army; for "I am going," he said, "to break down the

bridge, that none of you may return;" and whereas he ought, when

he had perceived his blunder, to have corrected himself, and

explained his meaning, seeing the men alarmed at the expression,

he would not do it out of mere stubbornness.  And when at the last

general sacrifice the priest gave him the entrails, they slipped out

of his hand, and when he saw the standers-by concerned at it, he

laughed and said, "See what it is to be an old man; but I shall

hold my sword fast enough."

So he marched his army along the river with seven legions, little

less than four thousand horse, and as many light-armed soldiers,

and the scouts returning declared that not one man appeared, but

that they saw the footing of a great many horses which seemed to

be retiring in flight, whereupon Crassus conceived great hopes,

and the Romans began to despise the Parthians, as men that would

not come to combat, hand to hand.  But Cassius spoke with him

again, and advised him to refresh his army in some of the garrison

towns, and remain there till they could get some certain

intelligence of the enemy, or at least to make toward Seleucia,

and keep by the river, that so they might have the convenience of

having provision constantly supplied by the boats, which might

always accompany the army, and the river would secure them from

being environed, and, if they should fight, it might be upon equal

terms.

While Crassus was still considering, and as yet undetermined,

there came to the camp an Arab chief named Ariamnes, a cunning and

wily fellow, who, of all the evil chances which combined to lead

them on to destruction, was the chief and the most fatal.  Some of

Pompey's old soldiers knew him, and remembered him to have

received some kindnesses of Pompey, and to have been looked upon

as a friend to the Romans, but he was now suborned by the king's

generals, and sent to Crassus to entice him if possible from the

river and hills into the wide open plain, where he might be

surrounded.  For the Parthians desired anything, rather than to

be obliged to meet the Romans face to face.  He, therefore, coming

to Crassus, (and he had a persuasive tongue,) highly commended

Pompey as his benefactor, and admired the forces that Crassus had

with him, but seemed to wonder why he delayed and made

preparations, as if he should not use his feet more than any arms,

against men that, taking with them their best goods and chattels,

had designed long ago to fly for refuge to the Scythians or

Hyrcanians.  "If you meant to fight, you should have made all

possible haste, before the king should recover courage, and

collect his forces together; at present you see Surena and

Sillaces opposed to you, to draw you off in pursuit of them, while

the king himself keeps out of the way."  But this was all a lie,

for Hyrodes had divided his army in two parts, with one he in

person wasted Armenia, revenging himself upon Artavasdes, and sent

Surena against the Romans, not out of contempt, as some pretend,

for there is no likelihood that he should despise Crassus, one of

the chiefest men of Rome, to go and fight with Artavasdes, and

invade Armenia; but much more probably he really apprehended the

danger, and therefore waited to see the event, intending that

Surena should first run the hazard of a battle, and draw the enemy

on.  Nor was this Surena an ordinary person, but in wealth,

family, and reputation, the second man in the kingdom, and in

courage and prowess the first, and for bodily stature and beauty

no man like him.  Whenever he traveled privately, he had one

thousand camels to carry his baggage, two hundred chariots for his

concubines, one thousand completely armed men for his life-guards,

and a great many more light-armed; and he had at least ten

thousand horsemen altogether, of his servants and retinue.  The

honor had long belonged to his family, that at the king's

coronation he put the crown upon his head, and when this very king

Hyrodes had been exiled, he brought him in; it was he, also, that

took the great city of Seleucia, was the first man that scaled the

walls, and with his own hand beat off the defenders.  And though

at this time he was not above thirty years old, he had a great

name for wisdom and sagacity, and, indeed, by these qualities

chiefly, he overthrew Crassus, who first through his overweening

confidence, and afterwards because he was cowed by his calamities,

fell a ready victim to his subtlety.  When Ariamnes had thus

worked upon him, he drew him from the river into vast plains, by a

way that at first was pleasant and easy, but afterwards very

troublesome by reason of the depth of the sand; no tree, nor any

water, and no end of this to be seen; so that they were not only

spent with thirst, and the difficulty of the passage, but were

dismayed with the uncomfortable prospect of not a bough, not a

stream, not a hillock, not a green herb, but in fact a sea of

sand, which encompassed the army with its waves.  They began to

suspect some treachery, and at the same time came messengers from

Artavasdes, that he was fiercely attacked by Hyrodes, who had

invaded his country, so that now it was impossible for him to send

any succors, and that he therefore advised Crassus to turn back,

and with joint forces to give Hyrodes battle, or at least that he

should march and encamp where horses could not easily come, and

keep to the mountains.  Crassus, out of anger and perverseness,

wrote him no answer, but told them, at present he was not at

leisure to mind the Armenians, but he would call upon them another

time, and revenge himself upon Artavasdes for his treachery.

Cassius and his friends began again to complain, but when they

perceived that it merely displeased Crassus, they gave over, but

privately railed at the barbarian, "What evil genius, O thou worst

of men, brought thee to our camp, and with what charms and potions

hast thou bewitched Crassus, that he should march his army through

a vast and deep desert, through ways which are rather fit for a

captain of Arabian robbers, than for the general of a Roman army?"

But the barbarian being a wily fellow, very submissively exhorted

them, and encouraged them to sustain it a little further, and ran

about the camp, and, professing to cheer up the soldiers, asked

them, jokingly, "What, do you think you march through Campania,

expecting everywhere to find springs, and shady trees, and baths,

and inns of entertainment?  Consider you now travel through the

confines of Arabia and Assyria."  Thus he managed them like

children, and before the cheat was discovered, he rode away; not

but that Crassus was aware of his going, but he had persuaded him

that he would go and contrive how to disorder the affairs of the

enemy.

It is related that Crassus came abroad that day not in his scarlet

robe, which Roman generals usually wear, but in a black one,

which, as soon as he perceived, he changed.  And the

standard-bearers had much ado to take up their eagles, which

seemed to be fixed to the place.  Crassus laughed at it, and

hastened their march, and compelled his infantry to keep pace with

his cavalry, till some few of the scouts returned and told them

that their fellows were slain and they hardly escaped, that the

enemy was at hand in full force, and resolved to give them battle.

On this all was in an uproar; Crassus was struck with amazement,

and for haste could scarcely put his army in good order.  First,

as Cassius advised, he opened their ranks and files that they

might take up as much space as could be, to prevent their being

surrounded, and distributed the horse upon the wings, but

afterwards changing his mind, he drew up his army in a square, and

made a front every way, each of which consisted of twelve cohorts,

to every one of which he allotted a troop of horse, that no part

might be destitute of the assistance that the horse might give,

and that they might be ready to assist everywhere, as need should

require.  Cassius commanded one of the wings, young Crassus the

other, and he himself was in the middle.  Thus they marched on

till they came to a little river named Balissus, a very

inconsiderable one in itself, but very grateful to the soldiers,

who had suffered so much by drought and heat all along their

march.  Most of the commanders were of the opinion that they ought

to remain there that night, and to inform themselves as much as

possible of the number of the enemies, and their order, and so

march against them at break of day; but Crassus was so carried

away by the eagerness of his son, and the horsemen that were with

him, who desired and urged him to lead them on and engage, that he

commanded those that had a mind to it to eat and drink as they

stood in their ranks, and before they had all well done, he led

them on, not leisurely and with halts to take breath, as if he was

going to battle, but kept on his pace as if he had been in haste,

till they saw the enemy, contrary to their expectation, neither so

many nor so magnificently armed as the Romans expected.  For

Surena had hid his main force behind the first ranks, and ordered

them to hide the glittering of their armor with coats and skins.

But when they approached and the general gave the signal,

immediately all the field rung with a hideous noise and terrible

clamor.  For the Parthians do not encourage themselves to war with

cornets and trumpets, but with a kind of kettle-drum, which they

strike all at once in various quarters.  With these they make a

dead hollow noise like the bellowing of beasts, mixed with sounds

resembling thunder, having, it would seem, very correctly

observed, that of all our senses hearing most confounds and

disorders us, and that the feelings excited through it most

quickly disturb, and most entirely overpower the understanding.

When they had sufficiently terrified the Romans with their noise,

they threw off the covering of their armor, and shone like

lightning in their breastplates and helmets of polished Margianian

steel, and with their horses covered with brass and steel

trappings.  Surena was the tallest and finest looking man himself,

but the delicacy of his looks and effeminacy of his dress did not

promise so much manhood as he really was master of; for his face

was painted, and his hair parted after the fashion of the Medes,

whereas the other Parthians made a more terrible appearance, with

their shaggy hair gathered in a mass upon their foreheads after

the Scythian mode.  Their first design was with their lances to

beat down and force back the first ranks of the Romans, but when

they perceived the depth of their battle, and that the soldiers

firmly kept their ground, they made a retreat, and pretending to

break their order and disperse, they encompassed the Roman square

before they were aware of it.  Crassus commanded his light-armed

soldiers to charge, but they had not gone far before they were

received with such a shower of arrows that they were glad to

retire amongst the heavy-armed, with whom this was the first

occasion of disorder and terror, when they perceived the strength

and force of their darts, which pierced their arms, and passed

through every kind of covering, hard and soft alike.  The

Parthians now placing themselves at distances began to shoot from

all sides, not aiming at any particular mark, (for, indeed, the

order of the Romans was so close, that they could not miss if they

would,) but simply sent their arrows with great force out of

strong bent bows, the strokes from which came with extreme

violence.  The position of the Romans was a very bad one from the

first; for if they kept their ranks, they were wounded, and if

they tried to charge, they hurt the enemy none the more, and

themselves suffered none the less.  For the Parthians threw their

darts as they fled, an art in which none but the Scythians excel

them, and it is, indeed, a cunning practice, for while they thus

fight to make their escape, they avoid the dishonor of a flight.

However, the Romans had some comfort to think that when they had

spent all their arrows, they would either give over or come to

blows; but when they presently understood that there were numerous

camels loaded with arrows, and that when the first ranks had

discharged those they had, they wheeled off and took more, Crassus

seeing no end of it, was out of all heart, and sent to his son

that he should endeavor to fall in upon them before he was quite

surrounded; for the enemy advanced most upon that quarter, and

seemed to be trying to ride round and come upon the rear.

Therefore the young man, taking with him thirteen hundred horse,

one thousand of which he had from Caesar, five hundred archers,

and eight cohorts of the full-armed soldiers that stood next him,

led them up with design to charge the Parthians.  Whether it was

that they found themselves in a piece of marshy ground, as some

think, or else designing to entice young Crassus as far as they

could from his father, they turned and began to fly; whereupon he

crying out that they durst not stand, pursued them, and with him

Censorinus and Megabacchus, both famous, the latter for his

courage and prowess, the other for being of a senator's family,

and an excellent orator, both intimates of Crassus, and of about

the same age.  The horse thus pushing on, the infantry stayed

little behind, being exalted with hopes and joy, for they supposed

they had already conquered, and now were only pursuing; till when

they were gone too far, they perceived the deceit, for they that

seemed to fly, now turned again, and a great many fresh ones came

on.  Upon this they made an halt, for they doubted not but now the

enemy would attack them, because they were so few.  But they

merely placed their cuirassiers to face the Romans, and with the

rest of their horse rode about scouring the field, and thus

stirring up the sand, they raised such a dust that the Romans

could neither see nor speak to one another, and being driven in

upon one another in one close body, they were thus hit and killed,

dying, not by a quick and easy death, but with miserable pains and

convulsions; for writhing upon the darts in their bodies, they

broke them in their wounds, and when they would by force pluck out

the barbed points, they caught the nerves and veins, so that they

tore and tortured themselves.  Many of them died thus, and those

that survived were disabled for any service, and when Publius

exhorted them to charge the cuirassiers, they showed him their

hands nailed to their shields, and their feet stuck to the ground,

so that they could neither fly nor fight.  He charged in himself

boldly, however, with his horse, and came to close quarters with

them, but was very unequal, whether as to the offensive or

defensive part; for with his weak and little javelins, he struck

against targets that were of tough raw hides and iron, whereas the

lightly clad bodies of his Gaulish horsemen were exposed to the

strong spears of the enemy.  For upon these he mostly depended,

and with them he wrought wonders; for they would catch hold of the

great spears, and close upon the enemy, and so pull them off from

their horses, where they could scarce stir by reason of the

heaviness of their armor, and many of the Gauls quitting their own

horses, would creep under those of the enemy, and stick them in

the belly; which, growing unruly with the pain, trampled upon

their riders and upon the enemies promiscuously.  The Gauls were

chiefly tormented by the heat and drought being not accustomed to

either, and most of their horses were slain by being spurred on

against the spears, so that they were forced to retire among the

foot, bearing off Publius grievously wounded.  Observing a sandy

hillock not far off, they made to it, and tying their horses to

one another, and placing them in the midst, and joining all their

shields together before them, they thought they might make some

defense against the barbarians.  But it fell out quite contrary,

for when they were drawn up in a plain, the front in some measure

secured those that were behind; but when they were upon the hill,

one being of necessity higher up than another, none were in

shelter, but all alike stood equally exposed, bewailing their

inglorious and useless fate.  There were with Publius two Greeks

that lived near there at Carrhae, Hieronymus and Nicomachus; these

men urged him to retire with them and fly to Ichnae, a town not

far from thence, and friendly to the Romans.  "No," said he,

"there is no death so terrible, for the fear of which Publius

would leave his friends that die upon his account;" and bidding

them to take care of themselves, he embraced them and sent them

away, and, because he could not use his arm, for he was run

through with a dart, he opened his side to his armor-bearer, and

commanded him to run him through.  It is said that Censorinus fell

in the same manner.  Megabacchus slew himself, as did also the

rest of best note.  The Parthians coming upon the rest with their

lances, killed them fighting, nor were there above five hundred

taken prisoners.  Cutting off the head of Publius, they rode off

directly towards Crassus.

His condition was thus.  When he had commanded his son to fall

upon the enemy, and word was brought him that they fled and that

there was a distant pursuit, and perceiving also that the enemy

did not press upon him so hard as formerly, for they were mostly

gone to fall upon Publius, he began to take heart a little; and

drawing his army towards some sloping ground, expected when his

son would return from the pursuit.  Of the messengers whom Publius

sent to him, (as soon as he saw his danger,) the first were

intercepted by the enemy, and slain; the last hardly escaping,

came and declared that Publius was lost, unless he had speedy

succors.  Crassus was terribly distracted, not knowing what

counsel to take, and indeed no longer capable of taking any;

overpowered now by fear for the whole army, now by desire to help

his son.  At last he resolved to move with his forces.  Just upon

this, up came the enemy with their shouts and noises more terrible

than before, their drums sounding again in the ears of the Romans,

who now feared a fresh engagement.  And they who brought Publius's

head upon the point of a spear, riding up near enough that it

could be known, scoffingly inquired where were his parents and

what family he was of, for it was impossible that so brave and

gallant a warrior should be the son of so pitiful a coward as

Crassus.  This sight above all the rest dismayed the Romans, for

it did not incite them to anger as it might have done, but to

horror and trembling, though they say Crassus outdid himself in

this calamity, for he passed through the ranks and cried out to

them, "This, O my countrymen, is my own peculiar loss, but the

fortune and the glory of Rome is safe and untainted so long as you

are safe.  But if any one be concerned for my loss of the best of

sons, let him show it in revenging him upon the enemy.  Take away

their joy, revenge their cruelty, nor be dismayed at what is past;

for whoever tries for great objects must suffer something.

Neither did Lucullus overthrow Tigranes without bloodshed, nor

Scipio Antiochus; our ancestors lost one thousand ships about

Sicily, and how many generals and captains in Italy? no one of

which losses hindered them from overthrowing their conquerors; for

the State of Rome did not arrive to this height by fortune, but by

perseverance and virtue in confronting danger."

While Crassus thus spoke exhorting them, he saw but few that gave

much heed to him, and when he ordered them to shout for the

battle, he could no longer mistake the despondency of his army,

which made but a faint and unsteady noise, while the shout of the

enemy was clear and bold.  And when they came to the business, the

Parthian servants and dependents riding about shot their arrows,

and the horsemen in the foremost ranks with their spears drove the

Romans close together, except those who rushed upon them for fear

of being killed by their arrows.  Neither did these do much

execution, being quickly dispatched; for the strong thick spear

made large and mortal wounds, and often run through two men at

once.  As they were thus fighting, the night coming on parted

them, the Parthians boasting that they would indulge Crassus with

one night to mourn his son, unless upon better consideration he

would rather go to Arsaces, than be carried to him.  These,

therefore, took up their quarters near them, being flushed with

their victory.  But the Romans had a sad night of it; for neither

taking care for the burial of their dead, nor the cure of the

wounded, nor the groans of the expiring, everyone bewailed his

own fate.  For there was no means of escaping, whether they should

stay for the light, or venture to retreat into the vast desert in

the dark.  And now the wounded men gave them new trouble, since to

take them with them would retard their flight, and if they should

leave them, they might serve as guides to the enemy by their

cries.  However, they were all desirous to see and hear Crassus,

though they were sensible that he was the cause of all their

mischief.  But he wrapped his cloak around him, and hid himself,

where he lay as an example, to ordinary minds, of the caprice of

fortune, but to the wise, of inconsiderateness and ambition; who,

not content to be superior to so many millions of men, being

inferior to two, esteemed himself as the lowest of all.  Then came

Octavius, his lieutenant, and Cassius, to comfort him, but he

being altogether past helping, they themselves called together the

centurions and tribunes, and agreeing that the best way was to fly,

they ordered the army out, without sound of trumpet, and at first

with silence.  But before long, when the disabled men found they

were left behind, strange confusion and disorder, with an outcry

and lamentation, seized the camp, and a trembling and dread

presently fell upon them, as if the enemy were at their heels.  By

which means, now and then fuming out of their way, now and then

standing to their ranks, sometimes taking up the wounded that

followed, sometimes laying them down, they wasted the time, except

three hundred horse, whom Egnatius brought safe to Carrhae about

midnight; where calling, in the Roman tongue, to the watch, as

soon as they heard him, he bade them tell Coponius, the governor,

that Crassus had fought a very great battle with the Parthians;

and having said but this, and not so much as telling his name, he

rode away at full speed to Zeugma.  And by this means he saved

himself and his men, but lost his reputation by deserting his

general.  However, his message to Coponius was for the advantage

of Crassus; for he, suspecting by this hasty and confused delivery

of the message that all was not well, immediately ordered the

garrison to be in arms, and as soon as he understood that Crassus

was upon the way towards him, he went out to meet him, and

received him with his army into the town.

The Parthians, although they perceived their dislodgement in the

night, yet did not pursue them, but as soon as it was day, they

came upon those that were left in the camp, and put no less than

four thousand to the sword, and with their light; horse picked up

a great many stragglers.  Varguntinus, the lieutenant, while it

was yet dark, had broken off from the main body with four cohorts

which had strayed out of the way; and the Parthians, encompassing

these on a small hill, slew every man of them excepting twenty,

who with their drawn swords forced their way through the thickest,

and they admiring their courage, opened their ranks to the right

and left, and let them pass without molestation to Carrhae.

Soon after a false report was brought to Surena, that Crassus,

with his principal officers, had escaped, and that those who were

got into Carrhae were but a confused rout of insignificant people,

not worth further pursuit.  Supposing, therefore, that he had lost

the very crown and glory of his victory, and yet being uncertain

whether it were so or not, and anxious to ascertain the fact, that

so he should either stay and besiege Carrhae or follow Crassus, he

sent one of his interpreters to the walls, commanding him in Latin

to call for Crassus or Cassius, for that the general, Surena,

desired a conference.  As soon as Crassus heard this, he embraced

the proposal, and soon after there came up a band of Arabians, who

very well knew the faces of Crassus and Cassius, as having been

frequently in the Roman camp before the battle.  They having

espied Cassius from the wall, told him that Surena desired a

peace, and would give them safe convoy, if they would make a

treaty with the king his master, and withdraw all their troops out

of Mesopotamia; and this he thought most advisable for them both,

before things came to the last extremity; Cassius, embracing the

proposal, desired that a time and place might be appointed where

Crassus and Surena might have an interview.  The Arabians, having

charged themselves with the message, went back to Surena, who wee

not a little rejoiced that Crassus was there to be besieged.

Next day, therefore, he came up with his army, insulting over the

Romans, and haughtily demanding of them Crassus and Cassius bound,

if they expected any mercy.  The Romans, seeing themselves deluded

and mocked, were much troubled at it, but advising Crassus to lay

aside his distant and empty hopes of aid from the Armenians,

resolved to fly for it; and this design ought to have been kept

private, till they were upon their way, and not have been told to

any of the people of Carrhae.  But Crassus let this also be known

to Andromachus, the most faithless of men, nay he was so

infatuated as to choose him for his guide.  The Parthians then, to

be sure, had punctual intelligence of all that passed; but it

being contrary to their usage, and also difficult for them to

fight by night, and Crassus having chosen that time to set out,

Andromachus, lest he should get the start too far of his pursuers,

led him hither and thither, and at last conveyed him into the

midst of morasses and places full of ditches, so that the Romans

had a troublesome and perplexing journey of it, and some there

were who, supposing by these windings and turnings of Andromachus

that no good was intended, resolved to follow him no further.  And

at last Cassius himself returned to Carrhae, and his guides, the

Arabians, advising him to tarry there till the moon was got out of

Scorpio, he told them that he was most afraid of Sagittarius, and

so with five hundred horse went off to Syria.  Others there were,

who having got honest guides, took their way by the mountains

called Sinnaca, and got into places of security by daybreak; these

were five thousand under the command of Octavius, a very gallant

man.  But Crassus fared worse; day overtook him still deceived by

Andromachus, and entangled in the fens and the difficult country.

There were with him four cohorts of legionary soldiers, a very few

horsemen, and five lictors, with whom having with great difficulty

got into the way, and not being a mile and a half from Octavius,

instead of going to join him, although the enemy were already upon

him, he retreated to another hill, neither so defensible nor

impassable for the horse, but lying under the hills of Sinnaca,

and continued so as to join them in a long ridge through the

plain.  Octavius could see in what danger the general was, and

himself, at first but slenderly followed, hurried to the rescue.

Soon after, the rest, upbraiding one another with baseness in

forsaking their officers, marched down, and falling upon the

Parthians, drove them from the hill, and compassing Crassus about,

and fencing him with their shields, declared proudly, that no

arrow in Parthia should ever touch their general, so long as there

was a man of them left alive to protect him.

Surena, therefore, perceiving his soldiers less inclined to expose

themselves, and knowing that if the Romans should prolong the

battle till night, they might then gain the mountains and be out

of his reach, betook himself to his usual craft.  Some of the

prisoners were set free, who had, as it was contrived, been in

hearing, while some of the barbarians spoke of a set purpose in

the camp to the effect that the king did not design the war to be

pursued to extremity against the Romans, but rather desired, by

his gentle treatment of Crassus, to make a step towards

reconciliation.  And the barbarians desisted from fighting, and

Surena himself, with his chief officers, riding gently to the

hill, unbent his bow and held out his hand, inviting Crassus to an

agreement, and saying that it was beside the king's intentions,

that they had thus had experience of the courage and the strength

of his soldiers; that now he desired no other contention but that

of kindness and friendship, by making a truce, and permitting them

to go away in safety.  These words of Surena the rest received

joyfully, and were eager to accept the offer; but Crassus, who had

had sufficient experience of their perfidiousness, and was unable

to see any reason for the sudden change, would give no ear to

them, and only took time to consider.  But the soldiers cried out

and advised him to treat, and then went on to upbraid and affront

him, saying that it was very unreasonable that he should bring

them to fight with such men armed, whom himself, without their

arms, durst not look in the face.  He tried first to prevail with

them by entreaties, and told them that if they would have patience

till evening, they might get into the mountains and passes,

inaccessible for horse, and be out of danger, and withal he

pointed out the way with his hand, entreating them not to abandon

their preservation, now close before them.  But when they mutinied

and clashed their targets in a threatening manner, he was

overpowered and forced to go, and only turning about at parting,

said, "You, Octavius and Petronius, and the rest of the officers

who are present, see the necessity of going which I lie under, and

cannot but be sensible of the indignities and violence offered to

me.  Tell all men when you have escaped, that Crassus perished

rather by the subtlety of his enemies, than by the disobedience of

his countrymen."

Octavius, however, would not stay there, but with Petronius went

down from the hill; as for the lictors, Crassus bade them be gone.

The first that met him were two half-blood Greeks, who, leaping

from their horses, made a profound reverence to Crassus, and

desired him, in Greek, to send some before him, who might see that

Surena himself was coming towards them, his retinue disarmed, and

not having so much as their wearing swords along with them.  But

Crassus answered, that if he had the least concern for his life,

he would never have entrusted himself in their hands, but sent two

brothers of the name of Roscius, to inquire on what terms, and in

what numbers they should meet.  These Surena ordered immediately

to be seized, and himself with his principal officers came up on

horseback, and greetings him, said, "How is this, then?  A Roman

commander is on foot, whilst I and my train are mounted."  But

Crassus replied, that there was no error committed on either side,

for they both met according to the custom of their own country.

Surena told him that from that time there was a league between the

king his master and the Romans, but that Crassus must go with him

to the river to sign it, "for you Romans," said he, "have not good

memories for conditions," and so saying, reached out his hand to

him.  Crassus, therefore, gave order that one of his horses should

be brought; but Surena told him there was no need, "the king, my

master, presents you with this;" and immediately a horse with a

golden bit was brought up to him, and himself was forcibly put

into the saddle by the grooms, who ran by the side and struck the

horse to make the more haste.  But Octavius running up, got hold

of the bridle, and soon after one of the officers, Petronius, and

the rest of the company came up, striving to stop the horse, and

pulling back those who on both sides of him forced Crassus

forward.  Thus from pulling and thrusting one another, they came

to a tumult, and soon after to blows.  Octavius, drawing his

sword, killed a groom of one of the barbarians, and one of them,

getting behind Octavius, killed him.  Petronius was not armed, but

being struck on the breastplate, fell down from his horse, though

without hurt.  Crassus was killed by a Parthian, called

Pomaxathres; others say, by a different man, and that Pomaxathres

only cut off his head and right hand after he had fallen.  But

this is conjecture rather than certain knowledge, for those that

were by had not leisure to observe particulars, and were either

killed fighting about Crassus, or ran off at once to get to their

comrades on the hill.  But the Parthians coming up to them, and

saying that Crassus had the punishment he justly deserved, and

that Surena bade the rest come down from the hill without fear,

some of them came down and surrendered themselves, others were

scattered up and down in the night, a very few of whom got safe

home, and others the Arabians, beating through the country, hunted

down and put to death.  It is generally said, that in all twenty

thousand men were slain, and ten thousand taken prisoners.

Surena sent the head and hand of Crassus to Hyrodes, the king,

into Armenia, but himself by his messengers scattering a report

that he was bringing Crassus alive to Seleucia, made a ridiculous

procession, which by way of scorn, he called a triumph.  For one

Caius Paccianus, who of all the prisoners was most like Crassus,

being put into a woman's dress of the fashion of the barbarians,

and instructed to answer to the title of Crassus and Imperator,

was brought sitting upon his horse, while before him went a parcel

of trumpeters and lictors upon camels.  Purses were hung at the

end of the bundles of rods, and the heads of the slain fresh

bleeding at the end of their axes.  After them followed the

Seleucian singing women, repeating scurrilous and abusive songs

upon the effeminacy and cowardliness of Crassus.  This show was

seen by everybody; but Surena, calling together the senate of

Seleucia, laid before them certain wanton books, of the writings

of Aristides, the Milesian; neither, indeed, was this any

forgery, for they had been found among the baggage of Rustius, and

were a good subject to supply Surena with insulting remarks upon

the Romans, who were not able even in the time of war to forget

such writings and practices.  But the people of Seleucia had

reason to commend the wisdom of Aesop's fable of the wallet,

seeing their general Surena carrying a bag full of loose Milesian

stories before him, but keeping behind him a whole Parthian

Sybaris in his many wagons full of concubines; like the vipers and

asps people talk of, all the foremost and more visible parts

fierce and terrible with spears and arrows and horsemen, but the

rear terminating in loose women and castanets, music of the lute,

and midnight revellings.  Rustius, indeed, is not to be excused,

but the Parthians had forgot, when they mocked at the Milesian

stories, that many of the royal line of their Arsacidae had been

born of Milesian and Ionian mistresses.

Whilst these things were doing, Hyrodes had struck up a peace with

the king of Armenia, and made a match between his son Pacorus and

the king of Armenia's sister.  Their feastings and entertainments

in consequence were very sumptuous, and various Grecian

compositions, suitable to the occasion, were recited before them.

For Hyrodes was not ignorant of the Greek language and literature,

and Artavasdes was so expert in it, that he wrote tragedies and

orations and histories, some of which are still extant.  When the

head of Crassus was brought to the door, the tables were just

taken away, and one Jason, a tragic actor, of the town of Tralles,

was singing the scene in the Bacchae of Euripides concerning

Agave.  He was receiving much applause, when Sillaces coming to

the room, and having made obeisance to the king, threw down the

head of Crassus into the midst of the company.  The Parthians

receiving it with joy and acclamations, Sillaces, by the king's

command, was made to sit down, while Jason handed over the

costume of Pentheus to one of the dancers in the chorus, and

taking up the head of Crassus, and acting the part of a bacchante

in her frenzy, in a rapturous impassioned manner, sang the lyric

passages,

We've hunted down a mighty chase to-day,

And from the mountain bring the noble prey;

to the great delight of all the company; but when the verses of

the dialogue followed,

What happy hand the glorious victim slew?

I claim that honor to my courage due;

Pomaxathres, who happened to be there at the supper, started up

and would have got the head into his own hands, "for it is my

due," said he, "and no man's else."  The king was greatly pleased,

and gave presents, according to the custom of the Parthians, to

them, and to Jason, the actor, a talent.  Such was the burlesque

that was played, they tell us, as the afterpiece to the tragedy of

Crassus's expedition.  But divine justice failed not to punish

both Hyrodes, for his cruelty, and Surena for his perjury; for

Surena not long after was put to death by Hyrodes, out of mere

envy to his glory; and Hyrodes himself, having lost his son

Pacorus, who was beaten in a battle with the Romans, falling into

a disease which turned to a dropsy, had aconite given him by his

second son, Phraates; but the poison working only upon the

disease, and carrying away the dropsical matter with itself, the

king began suddenly to recover, so that Phraates at length was

forced to take the shortest course, and strangled him.

COMPARISON OF CRASSUS WITH NICIAS

In the comparison of these two, first, if we compare the estate

of Nicias with that of Crassus, we must acknowledge Nicias's to

have been more honestly got.  In itself, indeed, one cannot much

approve of gaining riches by working mines, the greatest part of

which is done by malefactors and barbarians, some of them, too,

bound, and perishing in those close and unwholesome places.  But

if we compare this with the sequestrations of Sylla, and the

contracts for houses ruined by fire, we shall then think Nicias

came very honestly by his money.  For Crassus publicly and

avowedly made use of these arts, as other men do of husbandry,

and putting out money to interest; while as for other matters

which he used to deny, when taxed with them, as, namely, selling

his voice in the senate for gain's sake, and injuring allies,

and courting women, and conniving at criminals, these are things

which Nicias was never so much as falsely accused of; nay, he

was rather laughed at for giving money to those who made a trade

of impeachments, merely out of timorousness, a course, indeed,

that would by no means become Pericles and Aristides, but

necessary for him who by nature was wanting in assurance, even

as Lycurgus, the orator, frankly acknowledged to the people; for

when he was accused for buying off an evidence, he said that he

was very much pleased that having administered their affairs for

some time, he was at last accused, rather for giving, than

receiving.  Again, Nicias, in his expenses, was of a more public

spirit than Crassus, priding himself much on the dedication of

gifts in temples, on presiding at gymnastic games, and

furnishing choruses for the plays, and adorning processions,

while the expenses of Crassus, in feasting and afterwards

providing food for so many myriads of people, were much greater

than all that Nicias possessed as well as spent, put together.

So that one might wonder at anyone's failing to see that vice

is a certain inconsistency and incongruity of habit, after such

an example of money dishonorably obtained, and wastefully

lavished away.

Let so much be said of their estates; as for their management of

public affairs, I see not that any dishonesty, injustice, or

arbitrary action can be objected to Nicias, who was rather the

victim of Alcibiades's tricks, and was always careful and

scrupulous in his dealings with the people.  But Crassus is very

generally blamed for his changeableness in his friendships and

enmities, for his unfaithfulness, and his mean and underhand

proceedings; since he himself could not deny that to compass the

consulship, he hired men to lay violent hands upon Domitius and

Cato.  Then at the assembly held for assigning the provinces,

many were wounded and four actually killed, and he himself,

which I had omitted in the narrative of his life, struck with

his fist one Lucius Analius, a senator, for contradicting him,

so that he left the place bleeding.  But as Crassus was to be

blamed for his violent and arbitrary courses, so is Nicias no

less to be blamed for his timorousness and meanness of spirit,

which made him submit and give in to the basest people, whereas

in this respect Crassus showed himself lofty spirited and

magnanimous, who having to do not with such as Cleon or

Hyperbolus, but with the splendid acts of Caesar and the three

triumphs of Pompey, would not stoop, but bravely bore up against

their joint interests, and in obtaining the office of censor,

surpassed even Pompey himself For a statesman ought not to

regard how invidious the thing is, but how noble, and by his

greatness to overpower envy; but if he will be always aiming at

security and quiet, and dread Alcibiades upon the hustings, and

the Lacedaemonians at Pylos, and Perdiccas in Thrace, there is

room and opportunity enough for retirement, and he may sit out

of the noise of business, and weave himself, as one of the

sophists says, his triumphal garland of inactivity.  His desire

of peace, indeed, and of finishing the war, was a divine and

truly Grecian ambition, nor in this respect would Crassus

deserve to be compared to him, though he had enlarged the Roman

empire to the Caspian Sea or the Indian Ocean.

In a State where there is a sense of virtue, a powerful man

ought not to give way to the ill-affected, or expose the

government to those that are incapable of it, nor suffer high

trusts to be committed to those who want common honesty.  Yet

Nicias, by his connivance, raised Cleon, a fellow remarkable for

nothing but his loud voice and brazen face, to the command of an

army.  Indeed, I do not commend Crassus, who in the war with

Spartacus was more forward to fight than became a discreet

general, though he was urged into it by a point of honor, lest

Pompey by his coming should rob him of the glory of the action,

as Mummius did Metellus at the taking of Corinth, but Nicias's

proceedings are inexcusable.  For he did not yield up a mere

opportunity of getting honor and advantage to his competitor,

but believing that the expedition would be very hazardous, was

thankful to take care of himself, and left the Commonwealth to

shift for itself.  And whereas Themistocles, lest a mean and

incapable fellow should ruin the State by holding command in the

Persian war, bought him off, and Cato, in a most dangerous and

critical conjuncture, stood for the tribuneship for the sake of

his country, Nicias, reserving himself for trifling expeditions

against Minoa and Cythera, and the miserable Melians, if there

be occasion to come to blows with the Lacedaemonians, slips off

his general's cloak and hands over to the unskillfulness and

rashness of Cleon, fleet, men, and arms, and the whole command,

where the utmost possible skill was called for.  Such conduct, I

say, is not to be thought so much carelessness of his own fame,

as of the interest and preservation of his country.  By this

means it came to pass he was compelled to the Sicilian war, men

generally believing that he was not so much honestly convinced

of the difficulty of the enterprise, as ready out of mere love

of ease and cowardice to lose the city the conquest of Sicily.

But yet it is a great sign of his integrity, that though he was

always averse from war, and unwilling to command, yet they

always continued to appoint him as the best experienced and

ablest general they had.  On the other hand Crassus, though

always ambitious of command, never attained to it, except by

mere necessity in the servile war, Pompey and Metellus and the

two brothers Lucullus being absent, although at that time he was

at his highest pitch of interest and reputation.  Even those who

thought most of him seem to have thought him, as the comic poet

says:

A brave man anywhere but in the field.

There was no help, however, for the Romans, against his passion

for command and for distinction.  The Athenians sent out Nicias

against his will to the war, and Crassus led out the Romans

against theirs; Crassus brought misfortune on Rome, as Athens

brought it on Nicias.

Still this is rather ground for praising Nicias, than for

finding fault with Crassus.  His experience and sound judgment

as a general saved him from being carried away by the delusive

hopes of his fellow-citizens, and made him refuse to entertain

any prospect of conquering Sicily.  Crassus, on the other hand,

mistook, in entering on a Parthian war as an easy matter.  He

was eager, while Caesar was subduing the west, Gaul, Germany,

and Britain, to advance for his part to the east and the Indian

Sea, by the conquest of Asia, to complete the incursions of

Pompey and the attempts of Lucullus, men of prudent temper and

of unimpeachable worth, who, nevertheless, entertained the same

projects as Crassus, and acted under the same convictions.  When

Pompey was appointed to the like command, the senate was opposed

to it; and after Caesar had routed three hundred thousand

Germans, Cato recommended that he should be surrendered to the

defeated enemy, to expiate in his own person the guilt of breach

of faith.  The people, meantime, (their service to Cato!) kept

holiday for fifteen days, and were overjoyed.  What would have

been their feelings, and how many holidays would they have

celebrated, if Crassus had sent news from Babylon of victory,

and thence marching onward had converted Media and Persia, the

Hyrcanians, Susa, and Bactra, into Roman provinces?

If wrong we must do, as Euripides says, and cannot be content

with peace and present good things, let it not be for such

results as destroying Mende or Scandea, or beating up the exiled

Aeginetans in the coverts to which like hunted birds they had

fled, when expelled from their homes, but let it be for some

really great remuneration; nor let us part with justice, like a

cheap and common thing, for a small and trifling price.  Those

who praise Alexander's enterprise and blame that of Crassus,

judge of the beginning unfairly by the results.

In actual service, Nicias did much that deserves high praise.

He frequently defeated the enemy in battle, and was on the very

point of capturing Syracuse; nor should he bear the whole blame

of the disaster, which may fairly be ascribed in part to his

want of health and to the jealousy entertained of him at home.

Crassus, on the other hand, committed so many errors as not to

leave fortune room to show him favor.  It is no surprise to find

such imbecility fall a victim to the power of Parthia; the only

wonder is to see it prevailing over the wonted good-fortune of

Rome.  One scrupulously observed, the other entirely slighted

the arts of divination; and as both equally perished, it is

difficult to see what inference we should draw.  Yet the fault

of over-caution, supported by old and general opinion, better

deserves forgiveness than that of self-willed and lawless

transgression.

In his death, however, Crassus has the advantage, as he did not

surrender himself, nor submit to bondage, or let himself be

taken in by trickery, but was the victim only of the entreaties

of his friends and the perfidy of his enemies; whereas Nicias

enhanced the shame of his death by yielding himself up in the

hope of a disgraceful and inglorious escape.

SERTORIUS

It is no great wonder if in long process of time, while fortune

takes her course hither and thither, numerous coincidences

should spontaneously occur.  If the number and variety of

subjects to be wrought upon be infinite, it is all the more

easy for fortune, with such an abundance of material, to effect

this similarity of results.  Or if, on the other hand, events

are limited to the combinations of some finite number, then of

necessity the same must often recur, and in the same sequence.

There are people who take a pleasure in making collections of

all such fortuitous occurrences that they have heard or read

of, as look like works of a rational power and design; they

observe, for example, that two eminent persons, whose names

were Attis, the one a Syrian, the other of Arcadia, were both

slain by a wild boar; that of two whose names were Actaeon, the

one was torn in pieces by his dogs, the other by his lovers;

that of two famous Scipios, the one overthrew the Carthaginians

in war, the other totally ruined and destroyed them; the city

of Troy was the first time taken by Hercules for the horses

promised him by Laomedon, the second time by Agamemnon, by

means of the celebrated great wooden horse, and the third time

by Charidemus, by occasion of a horse falling down at the gate,

which hindered the Trojans, so that they could not shut them

soon enough; and of two cities which take their names from the

most agreeable odoriferous plants, Ios and Smyrna, the one from

a violet, the other from myrrh, the poet Homer is reported to

have been born in the one, and to have died in the other.  And

so to these instances let us further add, that the most warlike

commanders, and most remarkable for exploits of skillful

stratagem, have had but one eye; as Philip, Antigonus,

Hannibal, and Sertorius, whose life and actions we describe at

present; of whom, indeed, we might truly say, that he was more

continent than Philip, more faithful to his friend than

Antigonus, and more merciful to his enemies than Hannibal; and

that for prudence and judgment he gave place to none of them,

but in fortune was inferior to them all.  Yet though he had

continually in her a far more difficult adversary to contend

against than his open enemies, he nevertheless maintained his

ground, with the military skill of Metellus, the boldness of

Pompey, the success of Sylla, and the power of the Roman

people, all to be encountered by one who was a banished man and

a stranger at the head of a body of barbarians.  Among Greek

commanders, Eumenes of Cardia may be best compared with him;

they were both of them men born for command, for warfare, and

for stratagem; both banished from their countries, and holding

command over strangers; both had fortune for their adversary,

in their last days so harshly so, that they were both betrayed

and murdered by those who served them, and with whom they had

formerly overcome their enemies.

Quintus Sertorius was of a noble family, born in the city of

Nursia, in the country of the Sabines; his father died when he

was young, and he was carefully and decently educated by his

mother, whose name was Rhea, and whom he appears to have

extremely loved and honored.  He paid some attention to the

study of oratory and pleading in his youth, and acquired some

reputation and influence in Rome by his eloquence; but the

splendor of his actions in arms, and his successful

achievements in the wars, drew off his ambition in that

direction.

At his first beginning, he served under Caepio, when the Cimbri

and Teutones invaded Gaul; where the Romans fighting

unsuccessfully, and being put to flight, he was wounded in many

parts of his body, and lost his horse, yet, nevertheless, swam

across the river Rhone in his armor, with his breastplate and

shield, bearing himself up against the violence of the current;

so strong and so well inured to hardship was his body.

The second time that the Cimbri and Teutones came down with

some hundreds of thousands, threatening death and destruction

to all, when it was no small piece of service for a Roman

soldier to keep his ranks and obey his commander, Sertorius

undertook, while Marius led the army, to spy out the enemy's

camp.  Procuring a Celtic dress, and acquainting himself with

the ordinary expressions of their language requisite for common

intercourse, he threw himself in amongst the barbarians; where

having carefully seen with his own eyes, or having been fully

informed by persons upon the place of all their most important

concerns, he returned to Marius, from whose hands he received

the rewards of valor; and afterwards giving frequent proofs

both of conduct and courage in all the following war, he was

advanced to places of honor and trust under his general.  After

the wars with the Cimbri and Teutones, he was sent into Spain,

having the command of a thousand men under Didius, the Roman

general, and wintered in the country of the Celtiberians, in

the city of Castulo, where the soldiers enjoying great plenty,

and growing insolent, and continually drinking, the inhabitants

despised them and sent for aid by night to the Gyrisoenians,

their near neighbors, who fell upon the Romans in their

lodgings and slew a great number of them.  Sertorius, with a

few of his soldiers, made his way out, and rallying together

the rest who escaped, he marched round about the walls, and

finding the gate open, by which the Gyrisoenians had made their

secret entrance, he gave not them the same opportunity, but

placing a guard at the gate, and seizing upon all quarters of

the city, he slew all who were of age to bear arms, and then

ordering his soldiers to lay aside their weapons and put off

their own clothes, and put on the accoutrements of the

barbarians, he commanded them to follow him to the city, from

whence the men came who had made this night attack upon the

Romans.  And thus deceiving the Gyrisoenians with the sight of

their own armor, he found the gates of their city open, and

took a great number prisoners, who came out thinking to meet

their friends and fellow-citizens come home from a successful

expedition.  Most of them were thus slain by the Romans at

their own gates, and the rest within yielded up themselves and

were sold for slaves.

This action made Sertorius highly renowned throughout all

Spain, and as soon as he returned to Rome he was appointed

quaestor of Cisalpine Gaul, at a very seasonable moment for his

country, the Marsian war being on the point of breaking out.

Sertorius was ordered to raise soldiers and provide arms, which

he performed with a diligence and alacrity, so contrasting with

the feebleness and slothfulness of other officers of his age,

that he got the repute of a man whose life would be one of

action.  Nor did he relinquish the part of a soldier, now that

he had arrived at the dignity of a commander, but performed

wonders with his own hands, and never sparing himself, but

exposing his body freely in all conflicts, he lost one of his

eyes.  This he always esteemed an honor to him; observing that

others do not continually carry about with them the marks and

testimonies of their valor, but must often lay aside their

chains of gold, their spears and crowns; whereas his ensigns of

honor, and the manifestations of his courage always remained

with him, and those who beheld his misfortune, must at the same

time recognize his merits.  The people also paid him the

respect he deserved, and when he came into the theater,

received him with plaudits and joyful acclamations, an honor

rarely bestowed even on persons of advanced standing and

established reputation.  Yet, notwithstanding this popularity,

when he stood to be tribune of the people, he was disappointed,

and lost the place, being opposed by the party of Sylla, which

seems to have been the principal cause of his subsequent enmity

to Sylla.

After that Marius was overcome by Sylla and fled into Africa,

and Sylla had left Italy to go to the wars against Mithridates,

and of the two consuls Octavius and Cinna, Octavius remained

steadfast to the policy of Sylla, but Cinna, desirous of a new

revolution, attempted to recall the lost interest of Marius,

Sertorius joined Cinna's party, more particularly as he saw

that Octavius was not very capable, and was also suspicious of

anyone that was a friend to Marius.  When a great battle was

fought between the two consuls in the forum, Octavius overcame,

and Cinna and Sertorius, having lost not less than ten

thousand men, left the city, and gaining over most part of the

troops who were dispersed about and remained still in many

parts of Italy, they in a short time mustered up a force

against Octavius sufficient to give him battle again, and

Marius, also, now coming by sea out of Africa, proffered

himself to serve under Cinna, as a private soldier under his

consul and commander.

Most were for the immediate reception of Marius, but Sertorius

openly declared against it, whether he thought that Cinna would

not now pay as much attention to himself, when a man of higher

military repute was present, or feared that the violence of

Marius would bring all things to confusion, by his boundless

wrath and vengeance after victory.  He insisted upon it with

Cinna that they were already victorious, that there remained

little to be done, and that, if they admitted Marius, he would

deprive them of the glory and advantage of the war, as there

was no man less easy to deal with, or less to be trusted in, as

a partner in power.  Cinna answered, that Sertorius rightly

judged the affair, but that he himself was at a loss, and

ashamed, and knew not how to reject him, after he had sent for

him to share in his fortunes.  To which Sertorius immediately

replied, that he had thought that Marius came into Italy of his

own accord, and therefore had deliberated as to what might be

most expedient, but that Cinna ought not so much as to have

questioned whether he should accept him whom he had already

invited, but should have honorably received and employed him,

for his word once past left no room for debate.  Thus Marius

being sent for by Cinna, and their forces being divided into

three parts, under Cinna, Marius, and Sertorius, the war was

brought to a successful conclusion; but those about Cinna and

Marius committing all manner of insolence and cruelty, made the

Romans think the evils of war a golden time in comparison.  On

the contrary, it is reported of Sertorius, that he never slew

any man in his anger, to satisfy his own private revenge, nor

ever insulted over anyone whom he had overcome, but was much

offended with Marius, and often privately entreated Cinna to

use his power more moderately.  And in the end, when the slaves

whom Marius had freed at his landing to increase his army,

being made not only his fellow-soldiers in the war, but also

now his guard in his usurpation, enriched and powerful by his

favor, either by the command or permission of Marius, or by

their own lawless violence, committed all sorts of crimes,

killed their masters, ravished their masters' wives, and abused

their children, their conduct appeared so intolerable to

Sertorius that he slew the whole body of them, four thousand in

number, commanding his soldiers to shoot them down with their

javelins, as they lay encamped together.

Afterwards, when Marius died, and Cinna shortly after was

slain, when the younger Marius made himself consul against

Sertorius's wishes and contrary to law, when Carbo, Norbanus,

and Scipio fought unsuccessfully against Sylla, now advancing

to Rome, when much was lost by the cowardice and remissness of

the commanders, but more by the treachery of their party, when

with the want of prudence in the chief leaders, all went so ill

that his presence could do no good, in the end when Sylla had

placed his camp near to Scipio, and by pretending friendship,

and putting him in hopes of a peace, corrupted his army, and

Scipio could not be made sensible of this, although often

forewarned of it by Sertorius, at last he utterly despaired of

Rome, and hasted into Spain, that by taking possession there

beforehand, he might secure refuge to his friends, from their

misfortunes at home.  Having bad weather in his journey, and

traveling through mountainous countries, and the inhabitants

stopping the way, and demanding a toll and money for passage,

those who were with him were out of all patience at the

indignity and shame it would be for a proconsul of Rome to pay

tribute to a crew of wretched barbarians.  But he little

regarded their censure, and slighting that which had only the

appearance of an indecency, told them he must buy time, the

most precious of all things to those who go upon great

enterprises; and pacifying the barbarous people with money, he

hastened his journey, and took possession of Spain, a country

flourishing and populous, abounding with young men fit to bear

arms; but on account of the insolence and covetousness of the

governors from time to time sent thither from Rome, they had

generally an aversion to the Roman supremacy.  He, however,

soon gained the affection of their nobles by intercourse with

them, and the good opinion of the people by remitting their

taxes.  But that which won him most popularity, was his

exempting them from finding lodgings for the soldiers, when he

commanded his army to take up their winter quarters outside the

cities, and to pitch their camp in the suburbs; and when he

himself, first of all, caused his own tent to be raised without

the walls.  Yet not being willing to rely totally upon the good

inclination of the inhabitants, he armed all the Romans who

lived in those countries that were of military age, and

undertook the building of ships and the making of all sorts of

warlike engines, by which means he kept the cities in due

obedience, showing himself gentle in all peaceful business, and

at the same time formidable to his enemies by his great

preparations for war.

As soon as he was informed that Sylla had made himself master

of Rome, and that the party which sided with Marius and Carbo

was going to destruction, he expected that some commander with

a considerable army would speedily come against him, and

therefore sent away Julius Salinator immediately, with six

thousand men fully armed, to fortify and defend the passes of

the Pyrenees.  And Caius Annius not long after being sent out

by Sylla, finding Julius unassailable, sat down short at the

foot of the mountains in perplexity.  But a certain Calpurnius,

surnamed Lanarius, having treacherously slain Julius, and his

soldiers then forsaking the heights of the Pyrenees, Caius

Annius advanced with large numbers and drove before him all who

endeavored to hinder his march.  Sertorius, also, not being

strong enough to give him battle, retreated with three thousand

men into New Carthage, where he took shipping, and crossed the

seas into Africa.  And coming near the coast of Mauritania, his

men went on shore to water, and straggling about negligently,

the natives fell upon them and slew a great number.  This new

misfortune forced him to sail back again into Spain, whence he

was also repulsed, and, some Cilician pirate ships joining with

him, they made for the island of Pityussa, where they landed

and overpowered the garrison placed there by Annius, who,

however, came not long after with a great fleet of ships, and

five thousand soldiers.  And Sertorius made ready to fight him

by sea, although his ships were not built for strength, but for

lightness and swift sailing; but a violent west wind raised

such a sea that many of them were run aground and shipwrecked,

and he himself, with a few vessels, being kept from putting

further out to sea by the fury of the weather, and from landing

by the power of his enemies, was tossed about painfully for ten

days together, amidst the boisterous and adverse waves.

He escaped with difficulty, and after the wind ceased, ran for

certain desert islands scattered in those seas, affording no

water, and after passing a night there, making out to sea

again, he went through the straits of Cadiz, and sailing

outward keeping the Spanish shore on his right hand, he landed

a little above the mouth of the river Baetis, where it falls

into the Atlantic sea, and gives the name to that part of

Spain.  Here he met with seamen recently arrived from the

Atlantic islands, two in number, divided from one another only

by a narrow channel, and distant from the coast of Africa ten

thousand furlongs.  These are called the Islands of the Blest;

rains fall there seldom, and in moderate showers, but for the

most part they have gentle breezes, bringing along with them

soft dews, which render the soil not only rich for plowing and

planting, but so abundantly fruitful that it produces

spontaneously an abundance of delicate fruits, sufficient to

feed the inhabitants, who may here enjoy all things without

trouble or labor.  The seasons of the year are temperate, and

the transitions from one to another so moderate, that the air

is almost always serene and pleasant.  The rough northerly and

easterly winds which blow from the coasts of Europe and Africa,

dissipated in the vast open space, utterly lose their force

before they reach the islands.  The soft western and southerly

winds which breathe upon them sometimes produce gentle

sprinkling showers, which they convey along with them from the

sea, but more usually bring days of moist bright weather,

cooling and gently fertilizing the soil, so that the firm

belief prevails even among the barbarians, that this is the

seat of the blessed, and that these are the Elysian Fields

celebrated by Homer.

When Sertorius heard this account, he was seized with a

wonderful passion for these islands, and had an extreme desire

to go and live there in peace and quietness, and safe from

oppression and unending wars; but his inclinations being

perceived by the Cilician pirates, who desired not peace nor

quiet, but riches and spoils, they immediately forsook him, and

sailed away into Africa to assist Ascalis, the son of Iphtha,

and to help to restore him to his kingdom of Mauritania.  Their

sudden departure noways discouraged Sertorius; he presently

resolved to assist the enemies of Ascalis, and by this new

adventure trusted to keep his soldiers together, who from this

might conceive new hopes, and a prospect of a new scene of

action.  His arrival in Mauritania being very acceptable to the

Moors, he lost no time, but immediately giving battle to

Ascalis, beat him out of the field and besieged him; and

Paccianus being sent by Sylla, with a powerful supply, to raise

the siege, Sertorius slew him in the field, gained over all his

forces, and took the city of Tingis, into which Ascalis and his

brothers were fled for refuge.  The Africans tell that Antaeus

was buried in this city, and Sertorius had the grave opened,

doubting the story because of the prodigious size, and finding

there his body, in effect, it is said, full sixty cubits long,

he was infinitely astonished, offered sacrifice, and heaped up

the tomb again, gave his confirmation to the story, and added

new honors to the memory of Antaeus.  The Africans tell that

after the death of Antaeus, his wife Tinga lived with Hercules,

and had a son by him called Sophax, who was king of these

countries, and gave his mother's name to this city, whose son,

also, was Diodorus, a great conqueror, who brought the greatest

part of the Libyan tribes under his subjection, with an army of

Greeks, raised out of the colonies of the Olbians and Myceneans

placed here by Hercules.  Thus much I may mention for the sake

of king Juba, of all monarchs the greatest student of history,

whose ancestors are said to have sprung from Diodorus and

Sophax.

When Sertorius had made himself absolute master of the whole

country, he acted with great fairness to those who had confided

in him, and who yielded to his mercy; he restored to them their

property, cities, and government, accepting only of such

acknowledgments as they themselves freely offered.  And whilst

he considered which way next to turn his arms, the Lusitanians

sent ambassadors to desire him to be their general; for being

terrified with the Roman power, and finding the necessity of

having a commander of great authority and experience in war,

being also sufficiently assured of his worth and valor by those

who had formerly known him, they were desirous to commit

themselves especially to his care.  And in fact Sertorius is said

to have been of a temper unassailable either by fear or

pleasure, in adversity and dangers undaunted, and noways puffed

up with prosperity.  In straightforward fighting, no commander

in his time was more bold and daring, and in whatever was to be

performed in war by stratagem, secrecy, or surprise, if any

strong place was to be secured, any pass to be gained speedily,

for deceiving and overreaching an enemy, there was no man equal

to him in subtlety and skill.  In bestowing rewards and

conferring honors upon those who had performed good service in

the wars he was bountiful and magnificent, and was no less

sparing and moderate in inflicting punishment.  It is true that

that piece of harshness and cruelty which he executed in the

latter part of his days upon the Spanish hostages, seems to

argue that his clemency was not natural to him, but only worn

as a dress, and employed upon calculation, as his occasion or

necessity required.  As to my own opinion, I am persuaded that

pure virtue, established by reason and judgment, can never be

totally perverted or changed into its opposite, by any

misfortune whatever.  Yet I think it at the same time possible,

that virtuous inclinations and natural good qualities may, when

unworthily oppressed by calamities, show, with change of

fortune, some change and alteration of their temper; and thus I

conceive it happened to Sertorius, who when prosperity failed

him, became exasperated by his disasters against those who had

done him wrong.

The Lusitanians having sent for Sertorius, he left Africa, and

being made general with absolute authority, he put all in order

amongst them, and brought the neighboring parts of Spain

under subjection.  Most of the tribes voluntarily submitted

themselves, won by the fame of his clemency and of his courage,

and, to some extent, also, he availed himself of cunning

artifices of his own devising to impose upon them and gain

influence over them.  Amongst which, certainly, that of the

hind was not the least.  Spanus, a countryman who lived in

those parts, meeting by chance a hind that had recently calved,

flying from the hunters, let the dam go, and pursuing the fawn,

took it, being wonderfully pleased with the rarity of the

color, which was all milk white.  And as at that time Sertorius

was living in the neighborhood, and accepted gladly any

presents of fruit, fowl, or venison, that the country afforded,

and rewarded liberally those who presented them, the countryman

brought him his young hind, which he took and was well pleased

with at the first sight, but when in time he had made it so

tame and gentle that it would come when he called, and follow

him wheresoever he went, and could endure the noise and tumult

of the camp, knowing well that uncivilized people are naturally

prone to superstition, by little and little he raised it into

something preternatural, saying that it was given him by the

goddess Diana, and that it revealed to him many secrets.  He

added, also, further contrivances.  If he had received at any

time private intelligence that the enemies had made an

incursion into any part of the districts under his command, or

had solicited any city to revolt, he pretended that the hind

had informed him of it in his sleep, and charged him to keep

his forces in readiness.  Or if again he had notice that any of

the commanders under him had got a victory, he would hide the

messengers and bring forth the hind crowned with flowers, for

joy of the good news that was to come, and would encourage them

to rejoice and sacrifice to the gods for the good account they

should soon receive of their prosperous success.

By such practices, he brought them to be more tractable and

obedient in all things; for now they thought themselves no

longer to be led by a stranger, but rather conducted by a god,

and the more so, as the facts themselves seemed to bear witness

to it, his power, contrary to all expectation or probability,

continually increasing.  For with two thousand six hundred men,

whom for honor's sake he called Romans, combined with seven

hundred Africans, who landed with him when he first entered

Lusitania, together with four thousand targeteers, and seven

hundred horse of the Lusitanians themselves, he made war

against four Roman generals, who commanded a hundred and twenty

thousand foot, six thousand horse, two thousand archers and

slingers, and had cities innumerable in their power; whereas at

the first he had not above twenty cities in all.  And from this

weak and slender beginning, he raised himself to the command of

large nations of men, and the possession of numerous cities;

and of the Roman commanders who were sent against him, he

overthrew Cotta in a sea-fight, in the channel near the town of

Mellaria; he routed Fufidius, the governor of Baetica, with the

loss of two thousand Romans, near the banks of the river

Baetis; Lucius Domitius, proconsul of the other province of

Spain, was overthrown by one of his lieutenants; Thoranius,

another commander sent against him by Metellus with a great

force, was slain, and Metellus, one of the greatest and most

approved Roman generals then living, by a series of defeats,

was reduced to such extremities, that Lucius Manlius came to

his assistance out of Gallia Narbonensis, and Pompey the Great,

was sent from Rome, itself, in all haste, with considerable

forces.  Nor did Metellus know which way to turn himself, in a

war with such a bold and ready commander, who was continually

molesting him, and yet could not be brought to a set battle,

but by the swiftness and dexterity of his Spanish soldiery, was

enabled to shift and adapt himself to any change of

circumstances.  Metellus had had experience in battles fought

by regular legions of soldiers, fully armed and drawn up in due

order into a heavy standing phalanx, admirably trained for

encountering and overpowering an enemy who came to close

combat, hand to hand, but entirely unfit for climbing among the

hills, and competing incessantly with the swift attacks and

retreats of a set of fleet mountaineers, or to endure hunger

and thirst, and live exposed like them to the wind and weather,

without fire or covering.

Besides, being now in years, and having been formerly engaged

in many fights and dangerous conflicts, he had grown inclined

to a more remiss, easy, and luxurious life, and was the less

able to contend with Sertorius, who was in the prime of his

strength and vigor, and had a body wonderfully fitted for war,

being strong, active, and temperate, continually accustomed to

endure hard labor, to take long tedious journeys, to pass many

nights together without sleep, to eat little, and to be

satisfied with very coarse fare, and who was never stained with

the least excess in wine, even when he was most at leisure.

What leisure time he allowed himself, he spent in hunting and

riding about, and so made himself thoroughly acquainted with

every passage for escape when he would fly, and for overtaking

and intercepting in pursuit, and gained a perfect knowledge of

where he could and where he could not go.  Insomuch that

Metellus suffered all the inconveniences of defeat, although he

earnestly desired to fight, and Sertorius, though he refused

the field, reaped all the advantages of a conqueror.  For he

hindered them from foraging, and cut them off from water; if

they advanced, he was nowhere to be found; if they stayed in

any place and encamped, he continually molested and alarmed

them; if they besieged any town, he presently appeared and

besieged them again, and put them to extremities for want of

necessaries.  And thus he so wearied out the Roman army, that

when Sertorius challenged Metellus to fight singly with him,

they commended it, and cried out, it was a fair offer, a Roman

to fight against a Roman, and a general against a general; and

when Metellus refused the challenge, they reproached him.

Metellus derided and contemned this, and rightly so; for, as

Theophrastus observes, a general should die like a general, and

not like a skirmisher.  But perceiving that the town of the

Langobritae, who gave great assistance to Sertorius, might

easily be taken for want of water, as there was but one well

within the walls, and the besieger would be master of the

springs and fountains in the suburbs, he advanced against the

place, expecting to carry it in two days' time, there being no

more water, and gave command to his soldiers to take five days'

provision only.  Sertorius, however, resolving to send speedy

relief, ordered two thousand skins to be filled with water,

naming a considerable sum of money for the carriage of every

skin; and many Spaniards and Moors undertaking the work, he

chose out those who were the strongest and swiftest of foot,

and sent them through the mountains, with order that when they

had delivered the water, they should convey away privately all

those who would be least serviceable in the siege, that there

might be water sufficient for the defendants.  As soon as

Metellus understood this, he was disturbed, as he had already

consumed most part of the necessary provisions for his army,

but he sent out Aquinus with six thousand soldiers to fetch in

fresh supplies.  But Sertorius having notice of it, laid an

ambush for him, and having sent out beforehand three thousand

men to take post in a thickly wooded watercourse, with these he

attacked the rear of Aquinus in his return, while he himself,

charging him in the front, destroyed part of his army, and took

the rest prisoners, Aquinus only escaping, after the loss of

both his horse and his armor.  And Metellus, being forced

shamefully to raise the siege, withdrew amidst the laughter and

contempt of the Spaniards; while Sertorius became yet more the

object of their esteem and admiration.

He was also highly honored for his introducing discipline and

good order amongst them, for he altered their furious savage

manner of fighting, and brought them to make use of the Roman

armor, taught them to keep their ranks, and observe signals and

watchwords; and out of a confused number of thieves and

robbers, he constituted a regular, well-disciplined army.  He

bestowed silver and gold upon them liberally to gild and adorn

their helmets, he had their shields worked with various figures

and designs, he brought them into the mode of wearing flowered

and embroidered cloaks and coats, and by supplying money for

these purposes, and joining with them in all improvements, he

won the hearts of all.  That, however, which delighted them

most, was the care that he took of their children.  He sent for

all the boys of noblest parentage out of all their tribes, and

placed them in the great city of Osca, where he appointed

masters to instruct them in the Grecian and Roman learning,

that when they came to be men, they might, as he professed, be

fitted to share with him in authority, and in conducting the

government, although under this pretext he really made them

hostages.  However, their fathers were wonderfully pleased to

see their children going daily to the schools in good order,

handsomely dressed in gowns edged with purple, and that

Sertorius paid for their lessons, examined them often,

distributed rewards to the most deserving, and gave them the

golden bosses to hang about their necks, which the Romans

called bullae.

There being a custom in Spain, that when a commander was slain

in battle, those who attended his person fought it out till

they all died with him, which the inhabitants of those

countries called an offering, or libation, there were few

commanders that had any considerable guard or number of

attendants; but Sertorius was followed by many thousands who

offered themselves, and vowed to spend their blood with his.

And it is told that when his army was defeated near a city in

Spain, and the enemy pressed hard upon them, the Spaniards,

with no care for themselves, but being totally solicitous to

save Sertorius, took him up on their shoulders and passed him

from one to another, till they carried him into the city, and

only when they had thus placed their general in safety,

provided afterwards each man for his own security.

Nor were the Spaniards alone ambitious to serve him, but the

Roman soldiers, also, that came out of Italy, were impatient to

be under his command; and when Perpenna Vento, who was of the

same faction with Sertorius, came into Spain with a quantity of

money and a large number of troops, and designed to make war

against Metellus on his own account, his own soldiers opposed

it, and talked continually of Sertorius, much to the

mortification of Perpenna, who was puffed up with the grandeur

of his family and his riches.  And when they afterwards

received tidings that Pompey was passing the Pyrenees, they

took up their arms, laid hold on their ensigns, called upon

Perpenna to lead them to Sertorius, and threatened him that if

he refused they would go without him, and place themselves

under a commander who was able to defend himself and those that

served him.  And so Perpenna was obliged to yield to their

desires, and joining Sertorius, added to his army three and

fifty cohorts.

And when now all the cities on this side of the river Ebro also

united their forces together under his command, his army grew

great, for they flocked together and flowed in upon him from

all quarters.  But when they continually cried out to attack

the enemy, and were impatient of delay, their inexperienced,

disorderly rashness caused Sertorius much trouble, who at first

strove to restrain them with reason and good counsel, but when

he perceived them refractory and unseasonably violent, he gave

way to their impetuous desires, and permitted them to engage

with the enemy, in such sort that they might, being repulsed,

yet not totally routed, become more obedient to his commands

for the future.  Which happening as he had anticipated, he soon

rescued them, and brought them safe into his camp.  And after a

few days, being willing to encourage them again, when he had

called all his army together, he caused two horses to be

brought into the field, one an old, feeble, lean animal, the

other a lusty, strong horse, with a remarkably thick and long

tail.  Near the lean one he placed a tall strong man, and near

the strong young horse a weak despicable-looking fellow; and at

a sign given, the strong man took hold of the weak horse's tail

with both his hands, and drew it to him with his whole force,

as if he would pull it off; the other, the weak man, in the

mean time, set to work to pluck off hair by hair from the great

horse's tail.  And when the strong man had given trouble enough

to himself in vain, and sufficient diversion to the company,

and had abandoned his attempt, whilst the weak pitiful fellow

in a short time and with little pains had left not a hair on

the great horse's tail, Sertorius rose up and spoke to his

army, "You see, fellow soldiers, that perseverance is more

prevailing than violence, and that many things which cannot be

overcome when they are together, yield themselves up when taken

little by little.  Assiduity and persistence are irresistible,

and in time overthrow and destroy the greatest powers whatever.

Time being the favorable friend and assistant of those who use

their judgment to await his occasions, and the destructive

enemy of those who are unseasonably urging and pressing

forward."  With a frequent use of such words and such devices,

he soothed the fierceness of the barbarous people, and taught

them to attend and watch for their opportunities.

Of all his remarkable exploits, none raised greater admiration

than that which he put in practice against the Characitanians.

These are a people beyond the river Tagus, who inhabit neither

cities nor towns, but live in a vast high hill, within the deep

dens and caves of the rocks, the mouths of which open all

towards the north.  The country below is of a soil resembling a

light clay, so loose as easily to break into powder, and is not

firm enough to bear anyone that treads upon it, and if you

touch it in the least, it flies about like ashes or unslaked

lime.  In any danger of war, these people descend into their

caves, and carrying in their booty and prey along with them,

stay quietly within, secure from every attack.  And when

Sertorius, leaving Metellus some distance off had placed his

camp near this hill, they slighted and despised him, imagining,

that he retired into these parts, being overthrown by the

Romans.  And whether out of anger and resentment, or out of his

unwillingness to be thought to fly from his enemies, early in

the morning he rode up to view the situation of the place.  But

finding there was no way to come at it, as he rode about,

threatening them in vain and disconcerted, he took notice that

the wind raised the dust and carried it up towards the caves of

the Characitanians, the mouths of which, as I said before,

opened towards the north; and the northerly wind, which some

call Caecias, prevailing most in those parts, coming up out of

moist plains or mountains covered with snow, at this particular

time, in the heat of summer, being further supplied and

increased by the melting of the ice in the northern regions,

blew a delightful fresh gale, cooling and refreshing the

Characitanians and their cattle all the day long.  Sertorius,

considering well all circumstances in which either the

information of the inhabitants, or his own experience had

instructed him, commanded his soldiers to shovel up a great

quantity of this light, dusty earth, to heap it up together,

and make a mount of it over against the hill in which these

barbarous people resided, who, imagining that all this

preparation was for raising a mound to get at them, only mocked

and laughed at it.  However, he continued the work till the

evening, and brought his soldiers back into their camp.  The

next morning a gentle breeze at first arose, and moved the

lightest parts of the earth, and dispersed it about as the

chaff before the wind; but when the sun coming to be higher,

the strong northerly wind had covered the hills with the dust,

the soldiers came and turned this mound of earth over and over,

and broke the hard clods in pieces, whilst others on horseback

rode through it backward and forward, and raised a cloud of

dust into the air:  there with the wind the whole of it was

carried away and blown into the dwellings of the

Characitanians, all lying open to the north.  And there being

no other vent or breathing-place than that through which the

Caecias rushed in upon them, it quickly blinded their eyes, and

filled their lungs, and all but choked them, whilst they strove

to draw in the rough air mingled with dust and powdered earth.

Nor were they able, with all they could do, to hold out above

two days, but yielded up themselves on the third, adding, by

their defeat, not so much to the power of Sertorius, as to his

renown, in proving that he was able to conquer places by art,

which were impregnable by the force of arms.

So long as he had to do with Metellus, he was thought to owe

his successes to his opponent's age and slow temper, which were

ill-suited for coping with the daring and activity of one who

commanded a light army more like a band of robbers than regular

soldiers.  But when Pompey also passed over the Pyrenees, and

Sertorius pitched his camp near him, and offered and himself

accepted every occasion by which military skill could be put to

the proof, and in this contest of dexterity was found to have

the better, both in baffling his enemy's designs and in

counter-scheming himself, the fame of him now spread even to

Rome itself, as the most expert commander of his time.  For the

renown of Pompey was not small, who had already won much honor

by his achievements in the wars of Sylla, from whom he received

the title of Magnus, and was called Pompey the Great; and who

had risen to the honor of a triumph before the beard had grown

on his face.  And many cities which were under Sertorius were

on the very eve of revolting and going over to Pompey, when

they were deterred from it by that great action, amongst

others, which he performed near the city of Lauron, contrary to

the expectation of all.

For Sertorius had laid siege to Lauron, and Pompey came with

his whole army to relieve it; and there being a hill near this

city very advantageously situated, they both made haste to take

it.  Sertorius was beforehand, and took possession of it first,

and Pompey, having drawn down his forces, was not sorry that it

had thus happened, imagining that he had hereby enclosed his

enemy between his own army and the city, and sent in a

messenger to the citizens of Lauron, to bid them be of good

courage, and to come upon their walls, where they might see

their besieger besieged.  Sertorius, perceiving their

intentions, smiled, and said, he would now teach Sylla's

scholar, for so he called Pompey in derision, that it was the

part of a general to look as well behind him as before him, and

at the same time showed them six thousand soldiers, whom he had

left in his former camp, from whence he marched out to take the

hill, where if Pompey should assault him, they might fall upon

his rear.  Pompey discovered this too late, and not daring to

give battle, for fear of being encompassed, and yet being

ashamed to desert his friends and confederates in their extreme

danger, was thus forced to sit still, and see them ruined

before his face.  For the besieged despaired of relief, and

delivered up themselves to Sertorius, who spared their lives

and granted them their liberty, but burnt their city, not out

of anger or cruelty, for of all commanders that ever were,

Sertorius seems least of all to have indulged these passions,

but only for the greater shame and confusion of the admirers of

Pompey, and that it might be reported amongst the Spaniards,

that though he had been so close to the fire which burnt down

the city of his confederates as actually to feel the heat of

it, he still had not dared to make any opposition.

Sertorius, however, sustained many losses; but he always

maintained himself and those immediately with him undefeated,

and it was by other commanders under him that he suffered; and

he was more admired for being able to repair his losses, and

for recovering the victory, than the Roman generals against him

for gaining these advantages; as at the battle of the Sucro

against Pompey, and at the battle near Tuttia, against him and

Metellus together.  The battle near the Sucro was fought, it is

said, through the impatience of Pompey, lest Metellus should

share with him in the victory, Sertorius being also willing to

engage Pompey before the arrival of Metellus.  Sertorius

delayed the time till the evening, considering that the

darkness of the night would be a disadvantage to his enemies,

whether flying or pursuing, being strangers, and having no

knowledge of the country.  When the fight began, it happened

that Sertorius was not placed directly against Pompey, but

against Afranius, who had command of the left wing of the Roman

army, as he commanded the right wing of his own; but when he

understood that his left wing began to give way, and yield to

the assault of Pompey, he committed the care of his right wing

to other commanders, and made haste to relieve those in

distress; and rallying some that were flying, and encouraging

others that still kept their ranks, he renewed the fight, and

attacked the enemy in their pursuit so effectively as to cause

a considerable rout, and brought Pompey into great danger of

his life.  For after being wounded and losing his horse, he

escaped unexpectedly.  For the Africans with Sertorius, who

took Pompey's horse, set out with gold, and covered with rich

trappings, fell out with one another; and upon the dividing of

the spoil, gave over the pursuit.  Afranius, in the meantime,

as soon as Sertorius had left his right wing, to assist the

other part of his army, overthrew all that opposed him; and

pursuing them to their camp, fell in together with them, and

plundered them till it was dark night; knowing nothing of

Pompey's overthrow, nor being able to restrain his soldiers

from pillaging; when Sertorius, returning with victory, fell

upon him and upon his men, who were all in disorder, and slew

many of them.  And the next morning he came into the field

again, well armed, and offered battle, but perceiving that

Metellus was near, he drew off, and returned to his camp,

saying, "If this old woman had not come up, I would have

whipped that boy soundly and sent him to Rome."

He was much concerned that his white hind could nowhere be

found; as he was thus destitute of an admirable contrivance to

encourage the barbarous people, at a time when he most stood in

need of it.  Some men, however, wandering in the night, chanced

to meet her, and knowing her by her color, took her; to whom

Sertorius promised a good reward, if they would tell no one of

it; and immediately shut her up.  A few days after, he appeared

in public with a very cheerful look, and declared to the chief

men of the country, that the gods had foretold him in a dream

that some great good fortune should shortly attend him; and,

taking his seat, proceeded to answer the petitions of those who

applied themselves to him.  The keepers of the hind, who were

not far off, now let her loose, and she no sooner espied

Sertorius, but she came leaping with great joy to his feet,

laid her head upon his knees, and licked his hands, as she

formerly used to do.  And Sertorius stroking her, and making

much of her again, with that tenderness that the tears stood in

his eyes, all that were present were immediately filled with

wonder and astonishment, and accompanying him to his house with

loud shouts for joy, looked upon him as a person above the rank

of mortal men, and highly beloved by the gods; and were in

great courage and hope for the future.

When he had reduced his enemies to the last extremity for want

of provision, he was forced to give them battle, in the plains

near Saguntum, to hinder them from foraying, and plundering the

country.  Both parties fought gloriously.  Memmius, the best

commander in Pompey's army, was slain in the heat of the

battle.  Sertorius over threw all before him, and with great

slaughter of his enemies pressed forward towards Metellus.

This old commander, making a resistance beyond what could be

expected from one of his years, was wounded with a lance; an

occurrence which filled all who either saw it or heard of it,

with shame, to be thought to have left their general in

distress, but at the same time it provoked them to revenge and

fury against their enemies; they covered Metellus with their

shields, and brought him off in safety, and then valiantly

repulsed the Spaniards; and so victory changed sides, and

Sertorius, that he might afford a more secure retreat to his

army, and that fresh forces might more easily be raised,

retired into a strong city in the mountains.  And though it was

the least of his intention to sustain a long siege, yet he

began to repair the walls, and to fortify the gates, thus

deluding his enemies, who came and sat down before the town,

hoping to take it without much resistance; and meantime gave

over the pursuit of the Spaniards, and allowed opportunity for

raising new forces for Sertorius, to which purpose he had sent

commanders to all their cities, with orders, when they had

sufficiently increased their numbers, to send him word of it.

This news he no sooner received, but he sallied out and forced

his way through his enemies, and easily joined them with the

rest of his army.  And having received this considerable

reinforcement, he set upon the Romans again, and by rapidly

assaulting them, by alarming them on all sides, by ensnaring,

circumventing, and laying ambushes for them, he cut off all

provisions by land, while with his piratical vessels, he kept

all the coast in awe, and hindered their supplies by sea.  He

thus forced the Roman generals to dislodge, and to separate

from one another:  Metellus departed into Gaul, and Pompey

wintered among the Vaccaeans, in a wretched condition, where,

being in extreme want of money, he wrote a letter to the

senate, to let them know that if they did not speedily supply

him, he must draw off his army; for he had already spent his

own money in the defense of Italy.  To these extremities, the

chiefest and the most powerful commanders of the age were

reduced by the skill of Sertorius; and it was the common

opinion in Rome, that he would be in Italy before Pompey.

How far Metellus was terrified, and at what rate he esteemed

him, he plainly declared, when he offered by proclamation a

hundred talents, and twenty thousand acres of land, to any

Roman that should kill him, and leave, if he were banished, to

return; attempting villainously to buy his life by treachery,

when he despaired of ever being able to overcome him in open

war.  And when once he gained the advantage in a battle against

Sertorius, he was so pleased and transported with his good

fortune, that he caused himself to be publicly proclaimed

imperator; and all the cities which he visited received him

with altars and sacrifices; he allowed himself, it is said, to

have garlands placed on his head, and accepted sumptuous

entertainments, at which he sat drinking in triumphal robes,

while images and figures of victory were introduced by the

motion of machines, bringing in with them crowns and trophies

of gold to present to him, and companies of young men and women

danced before him, and sang to him songs of joy and triumph.

By all which he rendered himself deservedly ridiculous, for

being so excessively delighted and puffed up with the thoughts

of having followed one who was retiring of his own accord, and

for having once had the better of him whom he used to call

Sylla's runaway slave, and his forces, the remnant of the

defeated troops of Carbo.

Sertorius, meantime, showed the loftiness of his temper in

calling together all the Roman senators who had fled from Rome,

and had come and resided with him, and giving them the name of

a senate; and out of these he chose praetors and quaestors, and

adorned his government with all the Roman laws and

institutions.  And though he made use of the arms, riches, and

cities of the Spaniards, yet he would never, even in word,

remit to them the imperial authority, but set Roman officers

and commanders over them, intimating his purpose to restore

liberty to the Romans, not to raise up the Spaniard's power

against them.  For he was a sincere lover of his country, and

had a great desire to return home; but in his adverse fortune

he showed undaunted courage, and behaved himself towards his

enemies in a manner free from all dejection and

mean-spiritedness; and when he was in his prosperity, and in

the height of his victories, he sent word to Metellus and

Pompey, that he was ready to lay down his arms, and live a

private life, if he were allowed to return home, declaring that

he had rather live as the meanest citizen in Rome, than, exiled

from it, be supreme commander of all other cities together.

And it is thought that his great desire for his country was in

no small measure promoted by the tenderness he had for his

mother, under whom he was brought up after the death of his

father, and upon whom he had placed his entire affection.  And

after that his friends had sent for him into Spain to be their

general, as soon as he heard of his mother's death, he had

almost cast away himself and died for grief; for he lay seven

days together continually in his tent, without giving the word,

or being seen by the nearest of his friends; and when the chief

commanders of the army, and persons of the greatest note came

about his tent, with great difficulty they prevailed with him

at last to come abroad, and speak to his soldiers, and to take

upon him the management of affairs, which were in a prosperous

condition.  And thus, to many men's judgment, he seemed to have

been in himself of a mild and compassionate temper, and

naturally given to ease and quietness, and to have accepted of

the command of military forces contrary to his own inclination,

and not being able to live in safety otherwise, to have been

driven by his enemies to have recourse to arms, and to espouse

the wars as a necessary guard for the defense of his person.

His negotiations with king Mithridates further argue the

greatness of his mind.  For when Mithridates, recovering

himself from his overthrow by Sylla, like a strong wrestler

that gets up to try another fall, was again endeavoring to

reestablish his power in Asia, at this time the great fame of

Sertorius was celebrated in all places and when the merchants

who came out of the western parts of Europe, bringing these, as

it were, among their other foreign wares, had filled the

kingdom of Pontus with their stories of his exploits in war,

Mithridates was extremely desirous to send an embassy to him,

being also highly encouraged to it by the boastings of his

flattering courtiers, who, comparing Mithridates to Pyrrhus,

and Sertorius to Hannibal, professed that the Romans would

never be able to make any considerable resistance against such

great forces, and such admirable commanders, when they should

be set upon on both sides at once, on one by the most warlike

general, and on the other by the most powerful prince in

existence.

Accordingly, Mithridates sends ambassadors into Spain to

Sertorius with letters and instructions, and commission to

promise ships and money towards the charge of the war, if

Sertorius would confirm his pretensions upon Asia, and

authorize him to possess all that he had surrendered to the

Romans in his treaty with Sylla.  Sertorius summoned a full

council which he called a senate, where, when others joyfully

approved of the conditions, and were desirous immediately to

accept of his offer, seeing that he desired nothing of them but

a name, and an empty title to places not in their power to

dispose of, in recompense of which they should be supplied with

what they then stood most in need of, Sertorius would by no

means agree to it; declaring that he was willing that king

Mithridates should exercise all royal power and authority over

Bithynia and Cappadocia, countries accustomed to a monarchical

government, and not belonging to Rome, but he could never

consent that he should seize or detain a province, which, by

the justest right and title, was possessed by the Romans, which

Mithridates had formerly taken away from them, and had

afterwards lost in open war to Fimbria, and quitted upon a

treaty of peace with Sylla.  For he looked upon it as his duty

to enlarge the Roman possessions by his conquering arms, and

not to increase his own power by the diminution of the Roman

territories.  Since a noble-minded man, though he willingly

accepts of victory when it comes with honor, will never so much

as endeavor to save his own life upon any dishonorable terms.

When this was related to Mithridates, he was struck with

amazement, and said to his intimate friends, "What will

Sertorius enjoin us to do when he comes to be seated in the

Palatium in Rome, who at present, when he is driven out to the

borders of the Atlantic sea, sets bounds to our kingdoms in the

east, and threatens us with war, if we attempt the recovery of

Asia?"  However, they solemnly, upon oath, concluded a league

between them, upon these terms:  that Mithridates should enjoy

the free possession of Cappadocia and Bithynia, and that

Sertorius should send him soldiers, and a general for his army,

in recompense of which the king was to supply him with three

thousand talents and forty ships.  Marcus Marius, a Roman

senator who had quitted Rome to follow Sertorius, was sent

general into Asia, in company with whom when Mithridates had

reduced divers of the Asian cities, Marius made his entrance

with rods and axes carried before him, and Mithridates followed

in the second place, voluntarily waiting upon him.  Some of

these cities he set at liberty, and others he freed from taxes,

signifying to them that these privileges were granted to them

by the favor of Sertorius, and hereby Asia, which had been

miserably tormented by the revenue-farmers, and oppressed by

the insolent pride and covetousness of the soldiers, began to

rise again to new hopes, and to look forward with joy to the

expected change of government.

But in Spain, the senators about Sertorius, and others of the

nobility, finding themselves strong enough for their enemies,

no sooner laid aside fear, but their minds were possessed by

envy and irrational jealousies of Sertorius's power.  And

chiefly Perpenna, elevated by the thoughts of his noble birth,

and carried away with a fond ambition of commanding the army,

threw out villainous discourses in private amongst his

acquaintance.  "What evil genius," he would say, "hurries us

perpetually from worse to worse?  We who disdained to obey the

dictates of Sylla, the ruler of sea and land, and thus to live

at home in peace and quiet, are come hither to our destruction,

hoping to enjoy our liberty, and have made ourselves slaves of

our own accord, and are become the contemptible guards and

attendants of the banished Sertorius, who, that he may expose

us the further, gives us name that renders us ridiculous to all

that hear it, and calls us the Senate, when at the same time he

makes us undergo as much hard labor, and forces us to be as

subject to his haughty commands and insolences, as any

Spaniards and Lusitanians."  With these mutinous discourses, he

seduced them; and though the greater number could not be led

into open rebellion against Sertorius, fearing his power, they

were prevailed with to endeavor to destroy his interest

secretly.  For by abusing the Lusitanians and Spaniards, by

inflicting severe punishments upon them, by raising exorbitant

taxes, and by pretending that all this was done by the strict

command of Sertorius, they caused great troubles, and made many

cities to revolt; and those who were sent to mitigate and heal

these differences, did rather exasperate them, and increase the

number of his enemies, and left them at their return more

obstinate and rebellious than they found them.  And Sertorius,

incensed with all this, now so far forgot his former clemency

and goodness, as to lay hands on the sons of the Spaniards,

educated in the city of Oscar and, contrary to all justice, he

cruelly put some of them to death, and sold others.

In the meantime, Perpenna, having increased the number of his

conspirators, drew in Manlius, a commander in the army, who, at

that time being attached to a youth, to gain his affections the

more, discovered the confederacy to him, bidding him neglect

others, and be constant to him alone; who, in a few days, was

to be a person of great power and authority.  But the youth

having a greater inclination for Aufidius, disclosed all to

him, which much surprised and amazed him.  For he was also one

of the confederacy, but knew not that Manlius was anyways

engaged in it; but when the youth began to name Perpenna,

Gracinus, and others, whom he knew very well to be sworn

conspirators, he was very much terrified and astonished; but

made light of it to the youth, and bade him not regard what

Manlius said, a vain boasting fellow.  However, he went

presently to Perpenna, and giving him notice of the danger they

were in, and of the shortness of their time, desired him

immediately to put their designs in execution.  And when all

the confederates had consented to it, they provided a messenger

who brought feigned letters to Sertorius, in which he had

notice of a victory obtained, it said, by one of his

lieutenants, and of the great slaughter of his enemies; and as

Sertorius, being extremely well pleased, was sacrificing and

giving thanks to the gods for his prosperous success, Perpenna

invited him, and those with him, who were also of the

conspiracy, to an entertainment, and being very importunate,

prevailed with him to come.  At all suppers and entertainments

where Sertorius was present, great order and decency was wont

to be observed, for he would not endure to hear or see any

thing that was rude or unhandsome, but made it the habit of all

who kept his company, to entertain themselves with quiet and

inoffensive amusements.  But in the middle of this

entertainment, those who sought occasion to quarrel, fell into

dissolute discourse openly, and making as if they were very

drunk, committed many insolences on purpose to provoke him.

Sertorius, being offended with their ill behavior, or

perceiving the state of their minds by their way of speaking

and their unusually disrespectful manner, changed the posture

of his lying, and leaned backward, as one that neither heard

nor regarded them.  Perpenna now took a cup full of wine, and,

as he was drinking, let it fall out of his hand and make a

noise, which was the sign agreed upon amongst them; and

Antonius, who was next to Sertorius, immediately wounded him

with his sword.  And whilst Sertorius, upon receiving the

wound, turned himself, and strove to get up, Antonius threw

himself upon his breast, and held both his hands, so that he

died by a number of blows, without being able even to defend

himself.

Upon the first news of his death, most of the Spaniards left the

conspirators, and sent ambassadors to Pompey and Metellus, and

yielded themselves up to them.  Perpenna attempted to do something

with those that remained, but he made only so much use of

Sertorius's arms and preparations for war, as to disgrace himself

in them, and to let it be evident to all, that he understood no

more how to command, than he knew how to obey; and when he came

against Pompey, he was soon overthrown, and taken prisoner.

Neither did he bear this last affliction with any bravery, but

having Sertorius's papers and writings in his hands, he offered to

show Pompey letters from persons of consular dignity, and of the

highest quality in Rome, written with their own hands, expressly

to call Sertorius into Italy, and to let him know what great

numbers there were that earnestly desired to alter the present

state of affairs, and to introduce another manner of government.

Upon this occasion, Pompey behaved not like a youth, or one of

a light inconsiderate mind, but as a man of a confirmed, mature,

and solid judgment; and so freed Rome from great fears and dangers

of change.  For he put all Sertorius's writings and letters

together and read not one of them, nor suffered anyone else to

read them, but burnt them all, and caused Perpenna immediately to

be put to death, lest by discovering their names, further troubles

and revolutions might ensue.

Of the rest of the conspirators with Perpenna, some were taken

and slain by the command of Pompey, others fled into Africa,

and were set upon by the Moors, and run through with their

darts; and in a short time, not one of them was left alive,

except only Aufidius, the rival of Manlius, who, hiding

himself, or not being much inquired after, died an old man, in

an obscure village in Spain, in extreme poverty, and hated by

all.

EUMENES

Duris reports that Eumenes, the Cardian, was the son of a poor

wagoner in the Thracian Chersonesus, yet liberally educated, both

as a scholar and a soldier; and that while he was but young,

Philip, passing through Cardia, diverted himself with a sight of

the wrestling-matches and other exercises of the youth of that

place, among whom Eumenes performing with success, and showing

signs of intelligence and bravery, Philip was so pleased with

him, as to take him into his service.  But they seem to speak

more probably, who tell us that Philip advanced Eumenes for the

friendship he bore to his father, whose guest he had sometime

been.  After the death of Philip, he continued in the service of

Alexander, with the title of his principal secretary, but in as

great favor as the most intimate of his familiars, being esteemed

as wise and faithful as any person about him, so that he went

with troops under his immediate command as general in the

expedition against India, and succeeded to the post of Perdiccas,

when Perdiccas was advanced to that of Hephaestion, then newly

deceased.  And therefore, after the death of Alexander, when

Neoptolemus, who had been captain of his lifeguard, said that he

had followed Alexander with shield and spear, but Eumenes only

with pen and paper, the Macedonians laughed at him, as knowing

very well that, besides other marks of favor, the king had done

him the honor to make him a kind of kinsman to himself by

marriage.  For Alexander's first mistress in Asia, by whom he had

his son Hercules, was Barsine the daughter of Artabazus; and in

the distribution of the Persian ladies amongst his captains,

Alexander gave Apame, one of her sisters, to Ptolemy, and

another, also called Barsine, to Eumenes.

Notwithstanding, he frequently incurred Alexander's displeasure,

and put himself into some danger, through Hephaestion.  The

quarters that had been taken up for Eumenes, Hephaestion assigned

to Euius, the flute-player.  Upon which, in great anger, Eumenes

and Mentor came to Alexander, and loudly complained, saying that

the way to be regarded was to throw away their arms, and turn

flute-players or tragedians; so much so that Alexander took their

part and chid Hephaestion; but soon after changed his mind again,

and was angry with Eumenes, and accounted the freedom he had

taken to be rather an affront to the king, than a reflection upon

Hephaestion.  Afterwards, when Nearchus, with a fleet, was to be

sent to the Southern Sea, Alexander borrowed money of his

friends, his own treasury being exhausted, and would have had

three hundred talents of Eumenes, but he sent a hundred only,

pretending; that it was not without great difficulty he had

raised so much from his stewards.  Alexander neither complained

nor took the money, but gave private order to set Eumenes's tent

on fire, designing to take him in a manifest lie, when his money

was carried out.  But before that could be done, the tent was

consumed, and Alexander repented of his orders, all his papers

being burnt; the gold and silver, however, which was melted down

in the fire, being afterwards collected, was found to be more

than one thousand talents; yet Alexander took none of it, and

only wrote to the several governors and generals to send new

copies of the papers that were burnt, and ordered them to be

delivered to Eumenes.

Another difference happened between him and Hephaestion

concerning a gift, and a great deal of ill language passed

between them, yet Eumenes still continued in favor.  But

Hephaestion dying soon after, the king, in his grief, presuming

all those that differed with Hephaestion in his lifetime were now

rejoicing at his death, showed much harshness and severity in his

behavior with them, especially towards Eumenes, whom he often

upbraided with his quarrels and ill language to Hephaestion.  But

he, being a wise and dexterous courtier, made advantage of what

had done him prejudice, and struck in with the king's passion for

glorifying his friend's memory, suggesting various plans to do

him honor, and contributing largely and readily towards erecting

his monument.

After Alexander's death, when the quarrel broke out between the

troops of the phalanx and the officers, his companions, Eumenes,

though in his judgment he inclined to the latter, yet in his

professions stood neuter, as if he thought it unbecoming him, who

was a stranger, to interpose in the private quarrels of the

Macedonians.  And when the rest of Alexander's friends left

Babylon, he stayed behind, and did much to pacify the

foot-soldiers, and to dispose them towards an accommodation.  And

when the officers had agreed among themselves, and, recovering

from the first disorder, proceeded to share out the several

commands and provinces, they made Eumenes governor of Cappadocia

and Paphlagonia, and all the coast upon the Pontic Sea as far as

Trebizond, which at that time was not subject to the Macedonians,

for Ariarathes kept it as king, but Leonnatus and Antigonus, with

a large army, were to put him in possession of it.  Antigonus,

already filled with hopes of his own, and despising all men, took

no notice of Perdiccas's letters; but Leonnatus with his army

came down into Phrygia to the service of Eumenes.  But being

visited by Hecataeus, the tyrant of the Cardians, and requested

rather to relieve Antipater and the Macedonians that were

besieged in Lamia, he resolved upon that expedition, inviting

Eumenes to a share in it, and endeavoring to reconcile him to

Hecataeus.  For there was an hereditary feud between them,

arising out of political differences, and Eumenes had more than

once been known to denounce Hecataeus as a tyrant, and to exhort

Alexander to restore the Cardians their liberty.  Therefore at

this time, also, he declined the expedition proposed, pretending

that he feared lest Antipater, who already hated him, should for

that reason and to gratify Hecataeus, kill him.  Leonnatus so far

believed, as to impart to Eumenes his whole design, which, as he

had pretended and given out, was to aid Antipater, but in truth

was to seize the kingdom of Macedon; and he showed him letters

from Cleopatra, in which, it appeared, she invited him to Pella,

with promises to marry him.  But Eumenes, whether fearing

Antipater, or looking upon Leonnatus as a rash, headstrong, and

unsafe man, stole away from him by night, taking with him all his

men, namely, three hundred horse, and two hundred of his own

servants armed, and all his gold, to the value of five thousand

talents of silver, and fled to Perdiccas, discovered to him

Leonnatus's design, and thus gained great interest with him, and

was made of the council.  Soon after, Perdiccas, with a great

army, which he led himself, conducted Eumenes into Cappadocia,

and, having taken Ariarathes prisoner, and subdued the whole

country, declared him governor of it.  He accordingly proceeded

to dispose of the chief cities among his own friends, and made

captains of garrisons, judges, receivers, and other officers, of

such as he thought fit himself, Perdiccas not at all interposing.

Eumenes, however, still continued to attend upon Perdiccas, both

out of respect to him, and a desire not to be absent from the

royal family.

But Perdiccas, believing he was able enough to attain his own

further objects without assistance, and that the country he left

behind him might stand in need of an active and faithful

governor, when he came into Cilicia, dismissed Eumenes, under

color of sending him to his command, but in truth to secure

Armenia, which was on its frontier, and was unsettled through the

practices of Neoptolemus.  Him, a proud and vain man, Eumenes

exerted himself to gain by personal attentions; but to balance

the Macedonian foot, whom he found insolent and self-willed, he

contrived to raise an army of horse, excusing from tax and

contribution all those of the country that were able to serve on

horseback, and buying up a number of horses, which he distributed

among such of his own men as he most confided in, stimulating the

courage of his new soldiers by gifts and honors, and inuring

their bodies to service, by frequent marching and exercising; so

that the Macedonians were some of them astonished, others

overjoyed, to see that in so short a time he had got together a

body of no less than six thousand three hundred horsemen.

But when Craterus and Antipater, having subdued the Greeks,

advanced into Asia, with intentions to quell the power of

Perdiccas, and were reported to design an invasion of Cappadocia,

Perdiccas, resolving himself to march against Ptolemy, made

Eumenes commander-in-chief of all the forces of Armenia and

Cappadocia, and to that purpose wrote letters, requiring Alcetas

and Neoptolemus to be obedient to Eumenes, and giving full

commission to Eumenes to dispose and order all things as he

thought fit.  Alcetas flatly refused to serve, because his

Macedonians, he said, were ashamed to fight against Antipater,

and loved Craterus so well, they were ready to receive him for

their commander.  Neoptolemus designed treachery against Eumenes,

but was discovered; and being summoned, refused to obey, and put

himself in a posture of defense.  Here Eumenes first found the

benefit of his own foresight and contrivance, for his foot being

beaten, he routed Neoptolemus with his horse, and took all his

baggage; and coming up with his whole force upon the phalanx

while broken and disordered in its flight, obliged the men to lay

down their arms, and take an oath to serve under him.

Neoptolemus, with some few stragglers whom he rallied, fled to

Craterus and Antipater.  From them had come an embassy to

Eumenes, inviting him over to their side, offering to secure him

in his present government and to give him additional command,

both of men and of territory, with the advantage of gaining his

enemy Antipater to become his friend, and keeping Craterus his

friend from turning to be his enemy.  To which Eumenes replied,

that he could not so suddenly be reconciled to his old enemy

Antipater, especially at a time when he saw him use his friends

like enemies, but was ready to reconcile Craterus to Perdiccas,

upon any just and equitable terms; but in case of any aggression,

he would resist the injustice to his last breath, and would

rather lose his life than betray his word.

Antipater, receiving this answer, took time to consider upon the

whole matter; when Neoptolemus arrived from his defeat, and

acquainted them with the ill success of his arms, and urged them

to give him assistance, to come, both of them, if possible, but

Craterus at any rate, for the Macedonians loved him so

excessively, that if they saw but his hat, or heard his voice,

they would all pass over in a body with their arms.  And in

truth, Craterus had a mighty name among them, and the soldiers

after Alexander's death were extremely fond of him, remembering

how he had often for their sakes incurred Alexander's

displeasure, doing his best to withhold him when he began to

follow the Persian fashions, and always maintaining the customs

of his country, when, through pride and luxuriousness, they began

to be disregarded.  Craterus, therefore, sent on Antipater into

Cilicia, and himself and Neoptolemus marched with a large

division of the army against Eumenes; expecting to come upon him

unawares, and to find his army disordered with reveling after the

late victory.  Now that Eumenes should suspect his coming, and be

prepared to receive him, is an argument of his vigilance, but not

perhaps a proof of any extraordinary sagacity, but that he should

contrive both to conceal from his enemies the disadvantages of

his position, and from his own men whom they were to fight with,

so that he led them on against Craterus himself, without their

knowing that he commanded the enemy, this, indeed, seems to show

peculiar address and skill in the general.  He gave out that

Neoptolemus and Pigres were approaching with some Cappadocian and

Paphlagonian horse.  And at night, having resolved on marching,

he fell asleep, and had an extraordinary dream.  For he thought

he saw two Alexanders ready to engage, each commanding his

several phalanx, the one assisted by Minerva, the other by Ceres;

and that after a hot dispute, he on whose side Minerva was, was

beaten, and Ceres, gathering ears of corn, wove them into a crown

for the victor.  This vision Eumenes interpreted at once as

boasting success to himself, who was to fight for a fruitful

country, and at that very time covered with the young ears, the

whole being sowed with corn, and the fields so thick with it,

that they made a beautiful show of a long peace.  And he was

further emboldened, when he understood that the enemy's pass-word

was Minerva and Alexander.  Accordingly he also gave out as his,

Ceres and Alexander, and gave his men orders to make garlands for

themselves, and to dress their arms with wreaths of corn.  He

found himself under many temptations to discover to his captains

and officers whom they were to engage with, and not to conceal a

secret of such moment in his own breast alone, yet he kept to his

first resolutions, and ventured to run the hazard of his own

judgment.

When he came to give battle, he would not trust any Macedonian to

engage Craterus, but appointed two troops of foreign horse,

commanded by Pharnabazus, son to Artabazus, and Phoenix of

Tenedos, with order to charge as soon as ever they saw the enemy,

without giving them leisure to speak or retire, or receiving any

herald or trumpet from them.  For he was exceedingly afraid about

his Macedonians, lest, if they found out Craterus to be there,

they should go over to his side.  He himself, with three hundred

of his best horse, led the right wing against Neoptolemus.  When

having passed a little hill they came in view, and were seen

advancing with more than ordinary briskness, Craterus was amazed,

and bitterly reproached Neoptolemus for deceiving him with hopes

of the Macedonians' revolt, but he encouraged his men to do

bravely, and forthwith charged.  The first engagement was very

fierce, and the spears being soon broken to pieces, they came to

close fighting with their swords; and here Craterus did by no

means dishonor Alexander, but slew many of his enemies, and

repulsed many assaults, but at last received a wound in his side

from a Thracian, and fell off his horse.  Being down, many not

knowing him went past him, but Gorgias, one of Eumenes's

captains, knew him, and alighting from his horse, kept guard over

him, as he lay badly wounded and slowly dying.  In the meantime

Neoptolemus and Eumenes were engaged; who, being inveterate and

mortal enemies, sought for one another, but missed for the two

first courses, but in the third discovering one another, they

drew their swords, and with loud shouts immediately charged.  And

their horses striking against one another like two galleys, they

quitted their reins, and taking mutual hold pulled at one

another's helmets, and at the armor from their shoulders.  While

they were thus struggling, their horses went from under them, and

they fell together to the ground, there again still keeping their

hold and wrestling.  Neoptolemus was getting up first, but

Eumenes wounded him in the ham, and got upon his feet before him.

Neoptolemus supporting himself upon one knee, the other leg being

disabled, and himself undermost, fought courageously, though his

blows were not mortal, but receiving a stroke in the neck he fell

and ceased to resist.  Eumenes, transported with passion and his

inveterate hatred to him, fell to reviling and stripping him, and

perceived not that his sword was still in his hand.  And with

this he wounded Eumenes under the bottom of his corslet in the

groin, but in truth more frightened than hurt him; his blow being

faint for want of strength.  Having stripped the dead body, ill as

he was with the wounds he had received in his legs and arms, he

took horse again, and hurried towards the left wing of his army,

which he supposed to be still engaged.  Hearing of the death of

Craterus, he rode up to him, and finding there was yet some life

in him, alighted from his horse and wept, and laying his right

hand upon him, inveighed bitterly against Neoptolemus, and

lamented both Craterus's misfortune and his own hard fate, that

he should be necessitated to engage against an old friend and

acquaintance, and either do or suffer so much mischief.

This victory Eumenes obtained about ten days after the former,

and got great reputation alike for his conduct and his valor in

achieving it.  But on the other hand, it created him great envy

both among his own troops, and his enemies, that he, a stranger

and a foreigner, should employ the forces and arms of Macedon, to

cut off the bravest and most approved man among them.  Had the

news of this defeat come timely enough to Perdiccas, he had

doubtless been the greatest of all the Macedonians; but now, he

being slain in a mutiny in Egypt, two days before the news

arrived, the Macedonians in a rage decreed Eumenes's death,

giving joint commission to Antigonus and Antipater to prosecute

the war against him.  Passing by Mount Ida, where there was a

royal establishment of horses, Eumenes took as many as he had

occasion for, and sent an account of his doing so to the

overseers, at which Antipater is said to have laughed, calling it

truly laudable in Eumenes thus to hold himself prepared for

giving in to them (or would it be taking from them?) strict

account of all matters of administration.  Eumenes had designed

to engage in the plains of Lydia, near Sardis, both because his

chief strength lay in horse, and to let Cleopatra see how

powerful he was.  But at her particular request, for she was

afraid to give any umbrage to Antipater, he marched into the

upper Phrygia, and wintered in Celaenae; when Alcetas, Polemon,

and Docimus disputing with him who should command in chief, "You

know," said he, "the old saying, That destruction regards no

punctilios."  Having promised his soldiers pay within three days,

he sold them all the farms and castles in the country, together

with the men and beasts with which they were filled; every

captain or officer that bought, received from Eumenes the use of

his engines to storm the place, and divided the spoil among his

company, proportionably to every man's arrears.  By this Eumenes

came again to be popular, so that when letters were found thrown

about the camp by the enemy, promising one hundred talents,

besides great honors, to anyone that should kill Eumenes, the

Macedonians were extremely offended, and made an order that from

that time forward one thousand of their best men should

continually guard his person, and keep strict watch about him by

night in their several turns.  This order was cheerfully obeyed,

and they gladly received of Eumenes the same honors which the

kings used to confer upon their favorites.  He now had leave to

bestow purple hats and cloaks, which among the Macedonians is one

of the greatest honors the king can give.

Good fortune will elevate even petty minds, and gives them the

appearance of a certain greatness and stateliness, as from their

high place they look down upon the world; but the truly noble and

resolved spirit raises itself, and becomes more conspicuous in

times of disaster and ill fortune, as was now the case with

Eumenes.  For having by the treason of one of his own men lost

the field to Antigonus at Orcynii, in Cappadocia, in his flight

he gave the traitor no opportunity to escape to the enemy, but

immediately seized and hanged him.  Then in his flight, taking a

contrary course to his pursuers, he stole by them unawares,

returned to the place where the battle had been fought, and

encamped.  There he gathered up the dead bodies, and burnt them

with the doors and windows of the neighboring villages, and raised

heaps of earth upon their graves; insomuch that Antigonus, who

came thither soon after, expressed his astonishment at his

courage and firm resolution.  Falling afterwards upon the

baggage of Antigonus, he might easily have taken many captives,

both bond and freemen, and much wealth collected from the spoils

of so many wars; but he feared lest his men, overladen with so

much booty, might become unfit for rapid retreat, and too fond of

their ease to sustain the continual marches and endure the long

waiting on which he depended for success, expecting to tire

Antigonus into some other course.  But then considering it would

be extremely difficult to restrain the Macedonians from plunder,

when it seemed to offer itself, he gave them order to refresh

themselves, and bait their horses, and then attack the enemy.  In

the meantime he sent privately to Menander, who had care of all

this baggage, professing a concern for him upon the score of old

friendship and acquaintance; and therefore advising him to quit

the plain and secure himself upon the sides of the neighboring

hills, where the horse might not be able to hem him in.  When

Menander, sensible of his danger, had speedily packed up his

goods and decamped, Eumenes openly sent his scouts to discover

the enemy's posture, and commanded his men to arm, and bridle

their horses, as designing immediately to give battle; but the

scouts returning with news that Menander had secured so difficult

a post it was impossible to take him, Eumenes, pretending to be

grieved with the disappointment, drew off his men another way.

It is said that when Menander reported this afterwards to

Antigonus, and the Macedonians commended Eumenes, imputing it to

his singular good-nature, that having it in his power to make

slaves of their children, and outrage their wives, he forbore and

spared them all, Antigonus replied, "Alas, good friends, he had

no regard to us, but to himself, being loath to wear so many

shackles when he designed to fly."

From this time Eumenes, daily flying and wandering about,

persuaded many of his men to disband, whether out of kindness to

them, or unwillingness to lead about such a body of men as were

too few to engage, and too many to fly undiscovered.  Taking

refuge at Nora, a place on the confines of Lycaonia and

Cappadocia, with five hundred horse, and two hundred heavy-armed

foot, he again dismissed as many of his friends as desired it,

through fear of the probable hardships to be encountered there,

and embracing them with all demonstrations of kindness, gave them

license to depart.  Antigonus, when he came before this fort,

desired to have an interview with Eumenes before the siege; but

he returned answer, that Antigonus had many friends who might

command in his room; but they whom Eumenes defended, had no body

to substitute if he should miscarry; therefore, if Antigonus

thought it worth while to treat with him, he should first send

him hostages.  And when Antigonus required that Eumenes should

first address himself to him as his superior, he replied, "While

I am able to wield a sword, I shall think no man greater than

myself."  At last, when according to Eumenes's demand, Antigonus

sent his own nephew Ptolemy to the fort, Eumenes went out to him,

and they mutually embraced with great tenderness and friendship,

as having formerly been very intimate.  After long conversation,

Eumenes making no mention of his own pardon and security, but

requiring that he should be confirmed in his several governments,

and restitution be made him of the rewards of his service, all

that were present were astonished at his courage and gallantry.

And many of the Macedonians flocked to see what sort of person

Eumenes was, for since the death of Craterus, no man had been so

much talked of in the army.  But Antigonus, being afraid lest he

might suffer some violence, first commanded the soldiers to keep

off, calling out and throwing stones at those who pressed

forwards.  At last, taking Eumenes in his arms, and keeping off

the crowd with his guards, not without great difficulty, he

returned him safe into the fort.

Then Antigonus, having built a wall round Nora, left a force

sufficient to carry on the siege, and drew off the rest of his

army; and Eumenes was beleaguered and kept garrison, having

plenty of corn and water and salt but no other thing, either for

food, or delicacy; yet with such as he had, he kept a cheerful

table for his friends, inviting them severally in their turns,

and seasoning his entertainment with a gentle and affable

behavior.  For he had a pleasant countenance, and looked not like

an old and practiced soldier, but was smooth and florid, and his

shape as delicate as if his limbs had been carved by art in the

most accurate proportions.  He was not a great orator, but

winning and persuasive, as may be seen in his letters.  The

greatest distress of the besieged was the narrowness of the place

they were in, their quarters being very confined, and the whole

place but two furlongs in compass; so that both they and their

horses fed without exercise.  Accordingly, not only to prevent

the listlessness of such inactive living, but to have them in

condition to fly if occasion required, he assigned a room one and

twenty feet long, the largest in all the fort, for the men to

walk in, directing them to begin their walk gently, and so

gradually mend their pace.  And for the horses, he tied them to

the roof with great halters, fastening which about their necks,

with a pulley he gently raised them, till standing upon the

ground with their hinder feet, they just touched it with the very

ends of their fore feet.  In this posture the grooms plied them

with whips and shouts, provoking them to curvet and kick out with

their hind legs, struggling and stamping at the same time to find

support for their fore feet, and thus their whole body was

exercised, till they were all in a foam and sweat; excellent

exercise, whether for strength or speed; and then he gave them

their corn already coarsely ground, that they might sooner

dispatch, and better digest it.

The siege continuing long, Antigonus received advice that

Antipater was dead in Macedon, and that affairs were embroiled by

the differences of Cassander and Polysperchon, upon which he

conceived no mean hopes, purposing to make himself master of all,

and, in order to his design, thought to bring over Eumenes, that

he might have his advice and assistance.  He, therefore, sent

Hieronymus to treat with him, proposing a certain oath, which

Eumenes first corrected, and then referred himself to the

Macedonians themselves that besieged him, to be judged by them,

which of the two forms were the most equitable.  Antigonus in the

beginning of his had slightly mentioned the kings as by way of

ceremony, while all the sequel referred to himself alone; but

Eumenes changed the form of it to Olympias and the kings, and

proceeded to swear not to be true to Antigonus only, but to them,

and to have the same friends and enemies, not with Antigonus, but

with Olympias and the kings.  This form the Macedonians thinking

the more reasonable, swore Eumenes according to it, and raised

the siege, sending also to Antigonus, that he should swear in the

same form to Eumenes.  Meantime, all the hostages of the

Cappadocians whom Eumenes had in Nora he returned, obtaining from

their friends war horses, beasts of carriage, and tents in

exchange.  And collecting again all the soldiers who had

dispersed at the time of his flight, and were now wandering about

the country, he got together a body of near a thousand horse, and

with them fled from Antigonus, whom he justly feared.  For he had

sent orders not only to have him blocked up and besieged again,

but had given a very sharp answer to the Macedonians, for

admitting Eumenes's amendment of the oath.

While Eumenes was flying, he received letters from those in

Macedonia, who were jealous of Antigonus's greatness, from

Olympias, inviting him thither, to take the charge and protection

of Alexander's infant son, whose person was in danger, and other

letters from Polysperchon, and Philip the king, requiring him to

make war upon Antigonus, as general of the forces in Cappadocia,

and empowering him out of the treasure at Quinda to take five

hundred talents, compensation for his own losses, and to levy as

much as he thought necessary to carry on the war.  They wrote also

to the same effect to Antigenes and Teutamus, the chief officers

of the Argyraspids; who, on receiving these letters, treated

Eumenes with a show of respect and kindness; but it was apparent

enough they were full of envy and emulation, disdaining to give

place to him.  Their envy Eumenes moderated, by refusing to

accept the money, as if he had not needed it; and their ambition

and emulation, who were neither able to govern, nor willing to

obey, he conquered by help of superstition.  For he told them

that Alexander had appeared to him in a dream, and showed him a

regal pavilion richly furnished, with a throne in it; and told

him if they would sit in council there, he himself would be

present and prosper all the consultations and actions upon

which they should enter in his name.  Antigenes and Teutamus were

easily prevailed upon to believe this, being as little willing to

come and consult Eumenes, as he himself was to be seen waiting at

other men's doors.  Accordingly, they erected a tent royal, and a

throne, called Alexander's, and there they met to consult upon

all affairs of moment.

Afterwards they advanced into the interior of Asia, and in their

march met with Peucestes, who was friendly to them, and with the

other satraps, who joined forces with them, and greatly

encouraged the Macedonians with the number and appearance of

their men.  But they themselves, having since Alexander's decease

become imperious and ungoverned in their tempers, and luxurious

in their daily habits, imagining themselves great princes, and

pampered in their conceit by the flattery of the barbarians, when

all these conflicting pretensions now came together, were soon

found to be exacting and quarrelsome one with another, while all

alike unmeasurably flattered the Macedonians, giving them money

for revels and sacrifices, till in a short time they brought the

camp to be a dissolute place of entertainment, and the army a

mere multitude of voters, canvassed as in a democracy for the

election of this or that commander.  Eumenes, perceiving they

despised one another, and all of them feared him, and sought an

opportunity to kill him, pretended to be in want of money, and

borrowed many talents, of those especially who most hated him, to

make them at once confide in him, and forbear all violence to him

for fear of losing their own money.  Thus his enemies' estates

were the guard of his person, and by receiving money he purchased

safety, for which it is more common to give it.

The Macedonians, also, while there was no show of danger, allowed

themselves to be corrupted, and made all their court to those who

gave them presents, who had their body-guards, and affected to

appear as generals-in-chief.  But when Antigonus came upon them

with a great army, and their affairs themselves seemed to call

out for a true general, then not only the common soldiers cast

their eyes upon Eumenes, but these men, who had appeared so great

in a peaceful time of ease, submitted all of them to him, and

quietly posted themselves severally as he appointed them.  And

when Antigonus attempted to pass the river Pasitigris, all the

rest that were appointed to guard the passes were not so much as

aware of his march; only Eumenes met and encountered him, slew

many of his men, and filled the river with the dead, and took

four thousand prisoners.  But it was most particularly when

Eumenes was sick, that the Macedonians let it be seen how in

their judgment, while others could feast them handsomely and make

entertainments, he alone knew how to fight and lead an army.  For

Peucestes, having made a splendid entertainment in Persia, and

given each of the soldiers a sheep to sacrifice with, made

himself sure of being commander-in-chief.  Some few days after,

the army was to march, and Eumenes, having been dangerously ill,

was carried in a litter apart from the body of the army, that any

rest he got might not be disturbed.  But when they were a little

advanced, unexpectedly they had a view of the enemy, who had

passed the hills that lay between them, and was marching down

into the plain.  At the sight of the golden armor glittering in

the sun as they marched down in their order, the elephants with

their castles on their backs, and the men in their purple, as

their manner was when they were going to give battle, the front

stopped their march, and called out for Eumenes, for they would

not advance a step but under his conduct; and fixing their arms

in the ground, gave the word among themselves to stand, requiring

their officers also not to stir or engage or hazard themselves

without Eumenes.  News of this being brought to Eumenes, he

hastened those that carried his litter, and drawing back the

curtains on both sides, joyfully put forth his right hand.  As

soon as the soldiers saw him, they saluted him in their

Macedonian dialect, and took up their shields, and striking them

with their pikes, gave a great shout; inviting the enemy to come

on, for now they had a leader.

Antigonus understanding by some prisoners he had taken that

Eumenes was out of health, to that degree that he was carried in

a litter, presumed it would be no hard matter to crush the rest

of them, since he was ill.  He therefore made the greater haste

to come up with them and engage.  But being come so near as to

discover how the enemy was drawn up and appointed, he was

astonished, and paused for some time; at last he saw the litter

carrying from one wing of the army to the other, and, as his

manner was, laughing aloud, he said to his friends, "That litter

there, it seems, is the thing that offers us battle;" and

immediately wheeled about, retired with all his army, and pitched

his camp.  The men on the other side, finding a little respite,

returned to their former habits, and allowing themselves to be

flattered, and making the most of the indulgence of their

generals, took up for their winter quarters near the whole

country of the Gabeni, so that the front was quartered nearly a

thousand furlongs from the rear; which Antigonus understanding,

marched suddenly towards them, taking the most difficult road

through a country that wanted water; but the way was short though

uneven; hoping, if he should surprise them thus scattered in

their winter quarters, the soldiers would not easily be able to

come up time enough, and join with their officers.  But having to

pass through a country uninhabited, where he met with violent

winds and severe frosts, he was much checked in his march, and

his men suffered exceedingly.  The only possible relief was

making numerous fires, by which his enemies got notice of his

coming.  For the barbarians who dwelt on the mountains

overlooking the desert, amazed at the multitude of fires they

saw, sent messengers upon dromedaries to acquaint Peucestes.  He

being astonished and almost out of his senses with the news, and

finding the rest in no less disorder, resolved to fly, and

collect what men he could by the way.  But Eumenes relieved him

from his fear and trouble, undertaking so to stop the enemy's

advance, that he should arrive three days later than he was

expected.  Having persuaded them, he immediately dispatched

expresses to all the officers to draw the men out of their winter

quarters, and muster them with all speed.  He himself with some

of the chief officers rode out, and chose an elevated tract

within view, at a distance, of such as traveled the desert; this

he occupied and quartered out, and commanded many fires to be

made in it, as the custom is in a camp.  This done, and the enemies

seeing the fire upon the mountains, Antigonus was filled with

vexation and despondency, supposing that his enemies had been

long since advertised of his march, and were prepared to receive

him.  Therefore, lest his army, now tired and wearied out with

their march, should be forced immediately to encounter with fresh

men, who had wintered well, and were ready for him, quitting the

near way, he marched slowly through the towns and villages to

refresh his men.  But meeting with no such skirmishes as are

usual when two armies lie near one another, and being assured by

the people of the country that no army had been seen, but only

continual fires in that place, he concluded he had been outwitted

by a stratagem of Eumenes, and much troubled, advanced to give

open battle.

By this time, the greatest part of the forces were come together

to Eumenes, and admiring his sagacity, declared him alone

commander-in-chief of the whole army; upon which Antigenes and

Teutamus, the commanders of the Argyraspids, being very much

offended, and envying Eumenes, formed a conspiracy against him;

and assembling the greater part of the satraps and officers,

consulted when and how to cut him off.  When they had unanimously

agreed, first to use his service in the next battle, and then to

take an occasion to destroy him, Eudamus, the master of the

elephants, and Phaedimus, gave Eumenes private advice of this

design, not out of kindness or good-will to him, but lest they

should lose the money they had lent him.  Eumenes, having

commended them, retired to his tent, and telling his friends he

lived among a herd of wild beasts, made his will, and tore up all

his letters, lest his correspondents after his death should be

questioned or punished on account of anything in his secret

papers.  Having thus disposed of his affairs, he thought of

letting the enemy win the field, or of flying through Media and

Armenia and seizing Cappadocia, but came to no resolution while

his friends stayed with him.  After turning to many expedients in

his mind, which his changeable fortune had made versatile, he at

last put his men in array, and encouraged the Greeks and

barbarians; as for the phalanx and the Argyraspids, they

encouraged him, and bade him be of good heart; for the enemy

would never be able to stand them.  For indeed they were the

oldest of Philip's and Alexander's soldiers, tried men, that had

long made war their exercise, that had never been beaten or

foiled; most of them seventy, none less than sixty years old.

And so when they charged Antigonus's men, they cried out, "You

fight against your fathers, you rascals," and furiously falling

on, routed the whole phalanx at once, nobody being able to stand

them, and the greatest part dying by their hands.  So that

Antigonus's foot were routed, but his horse got the better, and

he became master of the baggage, through the cowardice of

Peucestes, who behaved himself negligently and basely; while

Antigonus used his judgment calmly in the danger, being aided

moreover by the ground.  For the place where they fought was a

large plain, neither deep, nor hard under foot, but, like the

sea-shore, covered with a fine soft sand, which the treading of

so many men and horses, in the time of the battle, reduced to a

small white dust, that like a cloud of lime darkened the air, so

that one could not see clearly at any distance, and so made it

easy for Antigonus to take the baggage unperceived.

After the battle, Teutamus sent a message to Antigonus to demand

the baggage.  He made answer, he would not only restore it to the

Argyraspids, but serve them further in other things if they would

but deliver up Eumenes.  Upon which the Argyraspids took a

villainous resolution to deliver him up alive into the hands of

his enemies.  So they came to wait upon him, being unsuspected by

him, but watching their opportunity, some lamenting the loss of

the baggage, some encouraging him as if he had been victor, some

accusing the other commanders, till at last they all fell upon

him, and seizing his sword, bound his hands behind him with his

own girdle.  When Antigonus had sent Nicanor to receive him, he

begged he might be led through the body of the Macedonians, and

have liberty to speak to them, neither to request, nor deprecate

anything, but only to advise them what would be for their

interest.  A silence being made, as he stood upon a rising

ground, he stretched out his hands bound, and said, "What trophy,

O ye basest of all the Macedonians, could Antigonus have wished

for so great as you yourselves have erected for him, in

delivering up your general captive into his hands?  You are not

ashamed, when you are conquerors, to own yourselves conquered,

for the sake only of your baggage, as if it were wealth, not

arms, wherein victory consisted; nay, you deliver up your general

to redeem your stuff.  As for me, I am unvanquished, though a

captive, conqueror of my enemies, and betrayed by my fellow

soldiers.  For you, I adjure you by Jupiter, the protector of

arms, and by all the gods that are the avengers of perjury, to

kill me here with your own hands; for it is all one; and if I am

murdered yonder, it will be esteemed your act, nor will Antigonus

complain, for he desires not Eumenes alive, but dead.  Or if you

withhold your own hands, release but one of mine, it shall

suffice to do the work; and if you dare not trust me with a sword

throw me bound as I am under the feet of the wild beasts.  This

if you do I shall freely acquit you from the guilt of my death,

as the most just and kind of men to their general."

While Eumenes was thus speaking, the rest of the soldiers wept

for grief, but the Argyraspids shouted out to lead him on, and

give no attention to his trilling.  For it was no such great

matter if this Chersonesian pest should meet his death, who in

thousands of battles had annoyed and wasted the Macedonians; it

would be a much more grievous thing for the choicest of Philip's

and Alexander's soldiers to be defrauded of the fruits of so long

service, and in their old age to come to beg their bread, and to

leave their wives three nights in the power of their enemies.  So

they hurried him on with violence.  But Antigonus, fearing the

multitude, for nobody was left in the camp, sent ten of his

strongest elephants with divers of his Mede and Parthian lances

to keep off the press.  Then he could not endure to have Eumenes

brought into his presence, by reason of their former intimacy and

friendship; but when they that had taken him inquired how he

would have him kept, "As I would," said he, "an elephant, or a

lion."  A little after, being loved with compassion, he

commanded the heaviest of his irons to be knocked off, one of his

servants to be admitted to anoint him, and that any of his

friends that were willing should have liberty to visit him, and

bring him what he wanted.  Long time he deliberated what to do

with him, sometimes inclining to the advice and promises of

Nearchus of Crete, and Demetrius his son, who were very earnest

to preserve Eumenes, whilst all the rest were unanimously instant

and importunate to have him taken off.  It is related that

Eumenes inquired of Onomarchus, his keeper, why Antigonus, now he

had his enemy in his hands, would not either forthwith dispatch

or generously release him?  And that Onomarchus contumeliously

answered him, that the field had been a more proper place than

this to show his contempt of death.  To whom Eumenes replied,

"And by heavens, I showed it there; ask the men else that engaged

me, but I could never meet a man that was my superior."

"Therefore," rejoined Onomarchus, "now you have found such a man,

why don't you submit quietly to his pleasure?"

When Antigonus resolved to kill Eumenes, he commanded to keep his

food from him, and so with two or three days' fasting he began to

draw near his end; but the camp being on a sudden to remove, an

executioner was sent to dispatch him.  Antigonus granted his body

to his friends, permitted them to burn it, and having gathered

his ashes into a silver urn, to send them to his wife and

children.

Eumenes was thus taken off; and Divine Providence assigned to no

other man the chastisement of the commanders and soldiers that

had betrayed him; but Antigonus himself, abominating the

Argyraspids as wicked and inhuman villains, delivered them up to

Sibyrtius, the governor of Arachosia, commanding him by all ways

and means to destroy and exterminate them, so that not a man of

them might ever come to Macedon, or so much as within sight of

the Greek sea.

COMPARISON OF SERTORIUS WITH EUMENES

These are the most remarkable passages that are come to our

knowledge concerning Eumenes and Sertorius.  In comparing their

lives, we may observe that this was common to them both; that

being aliens, strangers, and banished men, they came to be

commanders of powerful forces, and had the leading of numerous

and warlike armies, made up of divers nations.  This was peculiar

to Sertorius, that the chief command was, by his whole party,

freely yielded to him, as to the person of the greatest merit and

renown, whereas Eumenes had many who contested the office with

him, and only by his actions obtained the superiority.  They

followed the one honestly, out of desire to be commanded by him;

they submitted themselves to the other for their own security,

because they could not commend themselves.  The one, being a

Roman, was the general of the Spaniards and Lusitanians, who for

many years had been under the subjection of Rome; and the other,

a Chersonesian, was chief commander of the Macedonians, who were

the great conquerors of mankind, and were at that time subduing

the world.  Sertorius, being already in high esteem for his

former services in the wars, and his abilities in the senate, was

advanced to the dignity of a general; whereas Eumenes obtained

this honor from the office of a writer, or secretary, in which he

had been despised.  Nor did he only at first rise from inferior

opportunities, but afterwards, also, met with greater

impediments in the progress of his authority, and that not only

from those who publicly resisted him, but from many others that

privately conspired against him.  It was much otherwise with

Sertorius, not one of whose party publicly opposed him, only late

in life and secretly a few of his acquaintance entered into a

conspiracy against him.  Sertorius put an end to his dangers as

often as he was victorious in the field, whereas the victories of

Eumenes were the beginning of his perils, through the malice of

those that envied him.

Their deeds in war were equal and parallel, but their general

inclinations different.  Eumenes naturally loved war and

contention, but Sertorius esteemed peace and tranquillity; when

Eumenes might have lived in safety, with honor, if he would have

quietly retired out of their way, he persisted in a dangerous

contest with the greatest of the Macedonian leaders; but

Sertorius, who was unwilling to trouble himself with any public

disturbances, was forced, for the safety of his person, to make

war against those who would not suffer him to live in peace.  If

Eumenes could have contented himself with the second place,

Antigonus, freed from his competition for the first, would have

used him well, and shown him favor, whereas Pompey's friends

would never permit Sertorius so much as to live in quiet.  The

one made war of his own accord, out of a desire for command; and

the other was constrained to accept of command, to defend himself

from war that was made against him.  Eumenes was certainly a true

lover of war, for he preferred his covetous ambition before his

own security; but Sertorius was truly warlike, who procured his

own safety by the success of his arms.

As to the manner of their deaths, it happened to one without the

least thought or surmise of it; but to the other when he

suspected it daily; which in the first, argues an equitable

temper, and a noble mind, not to distrust his friends; but in the

other, it showed some infirmity of spirit, for Eumenes intended to

fly and was taken.  The death of Sertorius dishonored not his

life; he suffered that from his companions which none of his

enemies were ever able to perform.  The other, not being able to

deliver himself before his imprisonment, being willing also to

live in captivity, did neither prevent nor expect his fate with

honor or bravery; for by meanly supplicating and petitioning, he

made his enemy, that pretended only to have power over his body,

to be lord and master of his body and mind.

AGESILAUS

Archidamus, the son of Zeuxidamus, having reigned gloriously over

the Lacedaemonians, left behind him two sons, Agis the elder,

begotten of Lampido, a noble lady, Agesilaus, much the younger,

born of Eupolia, the daughter of Melesippidas.  Now the succession

belonging to Agis by law, Agesilaus, who in all probability was to

be but a private man, was educated according to the usual

discipline of the country, hard and severe, and meant to teach

young men to obey their superiors.  Whence it was that, men say,

Simonides called Sparta "the tamer of men," because by early

strictness of education, they, more than any nation, trained the

citizens to obedience to the laws, and made them tractable and

patient of subjection, as horses that are broken in while colts.

The law did not impose this harsh rule on the heirs apparent of the

kingdom.  But Agesilaus, whose good fortune it was to be born a

younger brother, was consequently bred to all the arts of

obedience, and so the better fitted for the government, when it

fell to his share; hence it was that he proved the most

popular-tempered of the Spartan kings, his early life having added

to his natural kingly and commanding qualities the gentle and

humane feelings of a citizen.

While he was yet a boy, bred up in one of what are called the

flocks, or classes, he attracted the attachment of Lysander, who

was particularly struck with the orderly temper that he manifested.

For though he was one of the highest spirits, emulous above any of

his companions, ambitious of preeminence in everything, and showed

an impetuosity and fervor of mind which irresistibly carried him

through all opposition or difficulty he could meet with; yet, on

the other side, he was so easy and gentle in his nature, and so apt

to yield to authority, that though he would do nothing on

compulsion, upon ingenuous motives he would obey any commands, and

was more hurt by the least rebuke or disgrace, than he was

distressed by any toil or hardship.

He had one leg shorter than the other, but this deformity was

little observed in the general beauty of his person in youth.  And

the easy way in which he bore it, (he being the first always to

pass a jest upon himself,) went far to make it disregarded.  And

indeed his high spirit and eagerness to distinguish himself were

all the more conspicuous by it, since he never let his lameness

withhold him from any toil or any brave action.  Neither his statue

nor picture are extant, he never allowing them in his life, and

utterly forbidding them to be made after his death.  He is said to

have been a little man, of a contemptible presence; but the

goodness of his humor, and his constant cheerfulness and

playfulness of temper, always free from anything of moroseness or

haughtiness, made him more attractive, even to his old age, than

the most beautiful and youthful men of the nation.  Theophrastus

writes, that the Ephors laid a fine upon Archidamus for marrying a

little wife, "For" said they, "she will bring us a race of

kinglets, instead of kings."

Whilst Agis, the elder brother, reigned, Alcibiades, being then an

exile from Athens, came from Sicily to Sparta; nor had he stayed

long there, before his familiarity with Timaea, the king's wife,

grew suspected, insomuch that Agis refused to own a child of hers,

which, he said, was Alcibiades's, not his.  Nor, if we may believe

Duris, the historian, was Timaea much concerned at it, being

herself forward enough to whisper among her helot maid-servants,

that the infant's true name was Alcibiades, not Leotychides.

Meanwhile it was believed, that the amour he had with her was not

the effect of his love but of his ambition, that he might have

Spartan kings of his posterity.  This affair being grown public, it

became needful for Alcibiades to withdraw from Sparta.  But the

child Leotychides had not the honors due to a legitimate son paid

him, nor was he ever owned by Agis, till by his prayers and tears

he prevailed with him to declare him his son before several

witnesses upon his death-bed.  But this did not avail to fix him in

the throne of Agis, after whose death Lysander, who had lately

achieved his conquest of Athens by sea, and was of the greatest

power in Sparta, promoted Agesilaus, urging Leotychides's bastardy

as a bar to his pretensions.  Many of the other citizens, also,

were favorable to Agesilaus and zealously joined his party, induced

by the opinion they had of his merits, of which they themselves

had been spectators, in the time that he had been bred up among

them.  But there was a man, named Diopithes, at Sparta, who had a

great knowledge of ancient oracles, and was thought particularly

skillful and clever in all points of religion and divination.  He

alleged, that it was unlawful to make a lame man king of

Lacedaemon, citing in the debate the following oracle:  —

Beware, great Sparta, lest there come of thee

Though sound thyself; an halting sovereignty;

Troubles, both long and unexpected too,

And storms of deadly warfare shall ensue.

But Lysander was not wanting with an evasion, alleging that if the

Spartans were really apprehensive of the oracle, they must have a

care of Leotychides; for it was not the limping foot of a king that

the gods cared about, but the purity of the Herculean family, into

whose sights if a spurious issue were admitted, it would make the

kingdom to halt indeed.  Agesilaus likewise alleged, that the

bastardy of Leotychides was witnessed to by Neptune, who threw Agis

out of bed by a violent earthquake, after which time he ceased to

visit his wife, yet Leotychides was born above ten months after

this.

Agesilaus was upon these allegations declared king, and soon

possessed himself of the private estate of Agis, as well as his

throne, Leotychides being wholly rejected as a bastard.  He now

turned his attention to his kindred by the mother's side, persons

of worth and virtue, but miserably poor.  To them he gave half his

brother's estate, and by this popular act gained general good-will

and reputation, in the place of the envy and ill-feeling which the

inheritance might otherwise have procured him.  What Xenophon tells

us of him, that by complying with, and, as it were, being ruled by

his country, he grew into such great power with them, that he could

do what he pleased, is meant to apply to the power he gained in the

following manner with the Ephors and Elders.  These were at that

time of the greatest authority in the State; the former, officers

annually chosen; the Elders, holding their places during life; both

instituted, as already told in the life of Lycurgus, to restrain

the power of the kings.  Hence it was that there was always from

generation to generation, a feud and contention between them and

the kings.  But Agesilaus took another course.  Instead of

contending with them, he courted them; in all proceedings he

commenced by taking their advice, was always ready to go, nay

almost run, when they called him; if he were upon his royal seat

hearing causes and the Ephors came in, he rose to them; whenever

any man was elected into the Council of Elders, he presented him

with a gown and an ox.  Thus, whilst he made show of deference to

them, and of a desire to extend their authority, he secretly

advanced his own, and enlarged the prerogatives of the kings by

several liberties which their friendship to his person conceded.

To other citizens he so behaved himself, as to be less blamable in

his enmities than in his friendships; for against his enemy he

forbore to take any unjust advantage, but his friends he would

assist, even in what was unjust.  If an enemy had done anything

praiseworthy, he felt it shameful to detract from his due, but his

friends he knew not how to reprove when they did ill, nay, he would

eagerly join with them, and assist them in their misdeed, and

thought all offices of friendship commendable, let the matter in

which they were employed be what it would.  Again, when any of his

adversaries was overtaken in a fault, he would be the first to pity

him, and be soon entreated to procure his pardon, by which he won

the hearts of all men.  Insomuch that his popularity grew at last

suspected by the Ephors, who laid a fine on him, professing that he

was appropriating the citizens to himself, who ought to be the

common property of the State.  For as it is the opinion of

philosophers, that could you take away strife and opposition out of

the universe, all the heavenly bodies would stand still, generation

and motion would cease in the mutual concord and agreement of all

things, so the Spartan legislator seems to have admitted ambition

and emulation, among the ingredients of his Commonwealth as the

incentives of virtue, distinctly wishing that there should be some

dispute and competition among his men of worth, and pronouncing the

mere idle, uncontested, mutual compliance to unproved deserts to be

but a false sort of concord.  And some think Homer had an eye to

this, when he introduces Agamemnon well pleased with the quarrel

arising between Ulysses and Achilles, and with the "terrible

words" that passed between them, which he would never have done,

unless he had thought emulations and dissensions between the

noblest men to be of great public benefit.  Yet this maxim is not

simply to be granted, without restriction, for if animosities go

too far, they are very dangerous to cities, and of most pernicious

consequence.

When Agesilaus was newly entered upon the government, there came

news from Asia, that the Persian king was making great naval

preparations, resolving with a high hand to dispossess the Spartans

of their maritime supremacy.  Lysander was eager for the

opportunity of going over and succoring his friends in Asia, whom

he had there left governors and masters of the cities, whose

mal-administration and tyrannical behavior was causing them to be

driven out, and in some cases put to death.  He therefore persuaded

Agesilaus to claim the command of the expedition, and by carrying

the war far from Greece into Persia, to anticipate the designs of

the barbarian.  He also wrote to his friends in Asia, that by

embassy they should demand Agesilaus for their captain.  Agesilaus,

therefore, coming into the public assembly, offered his service,

upon condition that he might have thirty Spartans for captains and

counselors, two thousand chosen men of the newly enfranchised

helots, and allies to the number of six thousand.  Lysander's

authority and assistance soon obtained his request, so that he was

sent away with the thirty Spartans, of whom Lysander was at once

the chief, not only because of his power and reputation, but also

on account of his friendship with Agesilaus, who esteemed his

procuring him this charge a greater obligation, than that of

preferring him to the kingdom.

Whilst the army was collecting to the rendezvous at Geraestus,

Agesilaus went with some of his friends to Aulis, where in a dream

he saw a man approach him, and speak to him after this manner:  "O

king of the Lacedaemonians, you cannot but know that, before

yourself, there hath been but one general captain of the whole of

the Greeks, namely, Agamemnon; now, since you succeed him in the

same office and command of the same men, since you war against the

same enemies, and begin your expedition from the same place, you

ought also to offer such a sacrifice, as he offered before he

weighed anchor."  Agesilaus at the same moment remembered that the

sacrifice which Agamemnon offered was his own daughter, he being so

directed by the oracle.  Yet was he not at all disturbed at it, but

as soon as he arose, he told his dream to his friends, adding, that

he would propitiate the goddess with the sacrifices a goddess must

delight in, and would not follow the ignorant example of his

predecessor.  He therefore ordered a hind to be crowned with

chaplets, and bade his own soothsayer perform the rite, not the

usual person whom the Boeotians, in ordinary course, appointed to

that office.  When the Boeotian magistrates understood it, they

were much offended, and sent officers to Agesilaus, to forbid his

sacrificing contrary to the laws of the country.  These having

delivered their message to him, immediately went to the altar, and

threw down the quarters of the hind that lay upon it.  Agesilaus

took this very ill, and without further sacrifice immediately

sailed away, highly displeased with the Boeotians, and much

discouraged in his mind at the omen, boding to himself an

unsuccessful voyage, and an imperfect issue of the whole

expedition.

When he came to Ephesus, he found the power and interest of

Lysander, and the honors paid to him, insufferably great; all

applications were made to him, crowds of suitors attended at his

door, and followed upon his steps, as if nothing but the mere name

of commander belonged, to satisfy the usage, to Agesilaus, the

whole power of it being devolved upon Lysander.  None of all the

commanders that had been sent into Asia was either so powerful or

so formidable as he; no one had rewarded his friends better, or had

been more severe against his enemies; which things having been

lately done, made the greater impression on men's minds, especially

when they compared the simple and popular behavior of Agesilaus,

with the harsh and violent and brief-spoken demeanor which Lysander

still retained.  Universal deference was yielded to this, and

little regard shown to Agesilaus.  This first occasioned offense to

the other Spartan captains, who resented that they should rather

seem the attendants of Lysander, than the councilors of Agesilaus.

And at length Agesilaus himself, though not perhaps all envious man

in his nature, nor apt to be troubled at the honors redounding upon

other men, yet eager for honor and jealous of his glory, began to

apprehend that Lysander's greatness would carry away from him the

reputation of whatever great action should happen.  He therefore

went this way to work.  He first opposed him in all his counsels;

whatever Lysander specially advised was rejected, and other

proposals followed.  Then whoever made any address to him, if he

found him attached to Lysander, certainly lost his suit.  So also

in judicial cases, anyone whom he spoke strongly against was sure

to come off with success, and any man whom he was particularly

solicitous to procure some benefit for, might think it well if he

got away without an actual loss.  These things being clearly not

done by chance, but constantly and of a set purpose, Lysander was

soon sensible of them, and hesitated not to tell his friends, that

they suffered for his sake, bidding them apply themselves to the

king, and such as were more powerful with him than he was.  Such

sayings of his seeming to be designed purposely to excite ill

feeling, Agesilaus went on to offer him a yet more open affront,

appointing him his meat-carver; and would in public companies

scornfully say, "Let them go now and pay their court to my carver."

Lysander, no longer able to brook these indignities, complained at

last to Agesilaus himself, telling him, that he knew very well how

to humble his friends.  Agesilaus answered, "I know certainly how

to humble those who pretend to more power than myself."  "That,"

replied Lysander, "is perhaps rather said by you, than done by me;

I desire only, that you will assign me some office and place, in

which I may serve you without incurring your displeasure."

Upon this Agesilaus sent him to the Hellespont, whence he procured

Spithridates, a Persian of the province of Pharnabazus, to come to

the assistance of the Greeks with two hundred horse, and a great

supply of money.  Yet his anger did not so come down, but he

thenceforward pursued the design of wresting the kingdom out of the

hands of the two families which then enjoyed it, and making it

wholly elective; and it is thought that he would on account of this

quarrel have excited a great commotion in Sparta, if he had not

died in the Boeotian war.  Thus ambitious spirits in a

commonwealth, when they transgress their bounds, are apt to do more

harm than good.  For though Lysander's pride and assumption was

most ill-timed and insufferable in its display, yet Agesilaus

surely could have found some other way of setting him right, less

offensive to a man of his reputation and ambitious temper.  Indeed

they were both blinded with the same passion, so as one not to

recognize the authority of his superior, the other not to bear with

the imperfections of his friend.

Tisaphernes being at first afraid of Agesilaus, treated with him

about setting the Grecian cities at liberty, which was agreed on.

But soon after finding a sufficient force drawn together, he

resolved upon war, for which Agesilaus was not sorry.  For the

expectation of this expedition was great, and he did not think it

for his honor, that Xenophon with ten thousand men should march

through the heart of Asia to the sea, beating the Persian forces

when and how he pleased, and that he at the head of the Spartans,

then sovereigns both at sea and land, should not achieve some

memorable action for Greece.  And so to be even with Tisaphernes,

he requites his perjury by a fair stratagem.  He pretends to march

into Caria, whither when he had drawn Tisaphernes and his army, he

suddenly turns back, and falls upon Phrygia, takes many of their

cities, and carries away great booty, showing his allies, that to

break a solemn league was a downright contempt of the gods, but the

circumvention of an enemy in war was not only just but glorious, a

gratification at once and an advantage.

Being weak in horse, and discouraged by ill omens in the

sacrifices, he retired to Ephesus, and there raised cavalry.  He

obliged the rich men, that were not inclined to serve in person, to

find each of them a horseman armed and mounted; and there being

many who preferred doing this, the army was quickly reinforced by a

body, not of unwilling recruits for the infantry, but of brave and

numerous horsemen.  For those that were not good at fighting

themselves, hired such as were more military in their inclinations,

and such as loved not horse-service substituted in their places

such as did.  Agamemnon's example had been a good one, when he took

the present of an excellent mare, to dismiss a rich coward from the

army.

When by Agesilaus's order the prisoners he had taken in Phrygia

were exposed to sale, they were first stripped of their garments,

and then sold naked.  The clothes found many customers to buy them,

but the bodies being, from the want of all exposure and exercise,

white and tender-skinned, were derided and scorned as

unserviceable.  Agesilaus, who stood by at the auction, told his

Greeks, "These are the men against whom ye fight, and these the

things you will gain by it."

The season of the year being come, he boldly gave out that he would

invade Lydia; and this plaindealing of his was now mistaken for a

stratagem by Tisaphernes, who, by not believing Agesilaus, having

been already deceived by him, overreached himself.  He expected

that he should have made choice of Caria, as a rough country, not

fit for horse, in which he deemed Agesilaus to be weak, and

directed his own marches accordingly.  But when he found him to be

as good as his word, and to have entered into the country of

Sardis, he made great haste after him, and by great marches of his

horse, overtaking the loose stragglers who were pillaging the

country, he cut them off.  Agesilaus meanwhile, considering that

the horse had outridden the foot, but that he himself had the whole

body of his own army entire, made haste to engage them.  He mingled

his light-armed foot, carrying targets, with the horse, commanding

them to advance at full speed and begin the battle, whilst he

brought up the heavier-armed men in the rear.  The success was

answerable to the design; the barbarians were put to the rout, the

Grecians pursued hard, took their camp, and put many of them to the

sword.  The consequence of this victory was very great; for they

had not only the liberty of foraging the Persian country, and

plundering at pleasure, but also saw Tisaphernes pay dearly for all

the cruelty he had showed the Greeks, to whom he was a professed

enemy.  For the king of Persia sent Tithraustes, who took off his

head, and presently dealt with Agesilaus about his return into

Greece, sending to him ambassadors to that purpose, with commission

to offer him great sums of money.  Agesilaus's answer was, that the

making of peace belonged to the Lacedaemonians, not to him; as for

wealth, he had rather see it in his soldiers' hands than his own;

that the Grecians thought it not honorable to enrich themselves

with the bribes of their enemies, but with their spoils only.  Yet,

that he might gratify Tithraustes for the justice he had done upon

Tisaphernes, the common enemy of the Greeks, he removed his

quarters into Phrygia, accepting thirty talents for his expenses.

Whilst he was upon his march, he received a staff from the

government at Sparta, appointing him admiral as well as general.

This was an honor which was never done to any but Agesilaus, who

being now undoubtedly the greatest and most illustrious man of his

time, still, as Theopompus has said, gave himself more occasion of

glory in his own virtue and merit than was given him in this

authority and power.  Yet he committed a fault in preferring

Pisander to the command of the navy, when there were others at hand

both older and more experienced; in this not so much consulting the

public good, as the gratification of his kindred, and especially

his wife, whose brother Pisander was.

Having removed his camp into Pharnabazus's province, he not only

met with great plenty of provisions, but also raised great sums of

money, and marching on to the bounds of Paphlagonia, he soon drew

Cotys, the king of it, into a league, to which he of his own accord

inclined, out of the opinion he had of Agesilaus's honor and

virtue.  Spithridates, from the time of his abandoning Pharnabazus,

constantly attended Agesilaus in the camp whithersoever he went.

This Spithridates had a son, a very handsome boy, called Megabates,

of whom Agesilaus was extremely fond, and also a very beautiful

daughter, that was marriageable.  Her Agesilaus matched to Cotys,

and taking of him a thousand horse, with two thousand light-armed

foot, he returned into Phrygia, and there pillaged the country of

Pharnabazus, who durst not meet him in the field, nor yet trust to

his garrisons, but getting his valuables together, got out of the

way and moved about up and down with a flying army, till

Spithridates joining with Herippidas the Spartan, took his camp,

and all his property.  Herippidas being too severe an inquirer into

the plunder with which the barbarian soldiers had enriched

themselves, and forcing them to deliver it up with too much

strictness, so disobliged Spithridates with his questioning and

examining, that he changed sides again, and went off with the

Paphlagonians to Sardis.  This was a very great vexation to

Agesilaus, not only that he had lost the friendship of a valiant

commander, and with him a considerable part of his army, but still

more that it had been done with the disrepute of a sordid and petty

covetousness, of which he always had made it a point of honor to

keep both himself and his country clear.  Besides these public

causes, he had a private one, his excessive fondness for the son,

which touched him to the quick, though he endeavored to master it,

and, especially in presence of the boy, to suppress all appearance

of it; so much so that when Megabates, for that was his name, came

once to receive a kiss from him, he declined it.  At which when the

young boy blushed and drew back, and afterward saluted him at a

more reserved distance, Agesilaus soon repenting his coldness, and

changing his mind, pretended to wonder why he did not salute him

with the same familiarity as formerly.  His friends about him

answered, "You are in the fault, who would not accept the kiss of

the boy, but turned away in alarm; he would come to you again, if

you would have the courage to let him do so."  Upon this Agesilaus

paused a while, and at length answered, "You need not encourage him

to it; I think I had rather be master of myself in that refusal,

than see all things that are now before my eyes turned into gold."

Thus he demeaned himself to Megabates when present, but he had so

great a passion for him in his absence, that it may be questioned

whether if the boy had returned again, all the courage he had would

have sustained him in such another refusal.

After this, Pharnabazus sought an opportunity of conferring with

Agesilaus, which Apollophanes of Cyzicus, the common host of them

both, procured for him.  Agesilaus coming first to the appointed

place, threw himself down upon the grass under a tree, lying there

in expectation of Pharnabazus, who, bringing with him soft skins

and wrought carpets to lie down upon, when he saw Agesilaus's

posture, grew ashamed of his luxuries and made no use of them, but

laid himself down upon the grass also, without regard for his

delicate and richly dyed clothing.  Pharnabazus had matter enough

of complaint against Agesilaus, and therefore, after the mutual

civilities were over, he put him in mind of the great services he

had done the Lacedaemonians in the Attic war, of which he thought

it an ill recompense to have his country thus harassed and spoiled,

by those men who owed so much to him.  The Spartans that were

present hung down their heads, as conscious of the wrong they had

done to their ally.  But Agesilaus said, "We, O Pharnabazus, when

we were in amity with your master the king, behaved ourselves like

friends, and now that we are at war with him, we behave ourselves

as enemies.  As for you, we must look upon you as a part of his

property, and must do these outrages upon you, not intending the

harm to you, but to him whom we wound through you.  But whenever

you will choose rather to be a friend to the Grecians, than a slave

of the king of Persia, you may then reckon this army and navy to be

all at your command, to defend both you, your country, and your

liberties, without which there is nothing honorable, or indeed

desirable among men."  Upon this Pharnabazus discovered his mind,

and answered, "If the king sends another governor in my room, I

will certainly come over to you, but as long as he trusts me with

the government, I shall be just to him, and not fail to do my

utmost endeavors in opposing you."  Agesilaus was taken with the

answer, and shook hands with him; and rising, said, "How much

rather had I have so brave a man my friend than mine enemy."

Pharnabazus being gone off, his son, staying behind, ran up to

Agesilaus, and smilingly said, "Agesilaus, I make you my guest;"

and thereupon presented him with a javelin which he had in his

hand.  Agesilaus received it, and being much taken with the good

mien and the courtesy of the youth, looked about to see if there

were anything in his train fit to offer him in return; and

observing the horse of Idaeus, the secretary, to have very fine

trappings on, he took them off, and bestowed them upon the young

gentleman.  Nor did his kindness rest there, but he continued ever

after to be mindful of him, so that when he was driven out of his

country by his brothers, and lived an exile in Peloponnesus, he

took great care of him, and condescended even to assist him in some

love-matters.  He had an attachment for a youth of Athenian birth,

who was bred up as an athlete; and when at the Olympic games this

boy, on account of his great size and general strong and full-grown

appearance, was in some danger of not being admitted into the

list, the Persian betook himself to Agesilaus, and made use of his

friendship.  Agesilaus readily assisted him, and not without a

great deal of difficulty effected his desires.  He was in all other

things a man of great and exact justice, but when the case

concerned a friend, to be straitlaced in point of justice, he said,

was only a colorable presence of denying him.  There is an epistle

written to Idrieus, prince of Caria, that is ascribed to Agesilaus;

it is this:  "If Nicias be innocent, absolve him; if he be guilty,

absolve him upon my account; however be sure to absolve him."  This

was his usual character in his deportment towards his friends.  Yet

his rule was not without exception; for sometimes he considered the

necessity of his affairs more than his friend, of which he once

gave an example, when upon a sudden and disorderly removal of his

camp, he left a sick friend behind him, and when he called loudly

after him, and implored his help, turned his back, and said it was

hard to be compassionate and wise too.  This story is related by

Hieronymus, the philosopher.

Another year of the war being spent, Agesilaus's fame still

increased, insomuch that the Persian king received daily

information concerning his many virtues, and the great esteem the

world had of his temperance, his plain living, and his moderation.

When he made any journey, he would usually take up his lodging in a

temple, and there make the gods witnesses of his most private

actions, which others would scarce permit men to be acquainted

with.  In so great an army, you should scarce find common soldier

lie on a coarser mattress, than Agesilaus; he was so indifferent to

the varieties of heat and cold, that all the seasons, as the gods

sent them, seemed natural to him.  The Greeks that inhabited Asia

were much pleased to see the great lords and governors of Persia,

with all the pride, cruelty, and luxury in which they lived,

trembling and bowing before a man in a poor threadbare cloak, and

at one laconic word out of his mouth, obsequiously deferring and

changing their wishes and purposes.  So that it brought to the

minds of many the verses of Timotheus,

Mars is the tyrant, gold Greece does not fear.

Many parts of Asia now revolting from the Persians, Agesilaus

restored order in the cities, and without bloodshed or banishment

of any of their members, reestablished the proper constitution in

the governments, and now resolved to carry away the war from the

seaside, and to march further up into the country, and to attack

the king of Persia himself in his own home in Susa and Ecbatana;

not willing to let the monarch sit idle in his chair, playing

umpire in the conflicts of the Greeks, and bribing their popular

leaders.  But these great thoughts were interrupted by unhappy news

from Sparta; Epicydidas is from thence sent to remand him home, to

assist his own country, which was then involved in a great war;

Greece to herself doth a barbarian grow,

Others could not, she doth herself o'erthrow.

What better can we say of those jealousies, and that league and

conspiracy of the Greeks for their own mischief, which arrested

fortune in full career, and turned back arms that were already

uplifted against the barbarians, to be used upon themselves, and

recalled into Greece the war which had been banished out of her?  I

by no means assent to Demaratus of Corinth, who said, that those

Greeks lost a great satisfaction, that did not live to see

Alexander sit in the throne of Darius.  That sight should rather

have drawn tears from them, when they considered, that they had

left that glory to Alexander and the Macedonians, whilst they spent

all their own great commanders in playing them against each other

in the fields of Leuctra, Coronea, Corinth, and Arcadia.

Nothing was greater or nobler than the behavior of Agesilaus on

this occasion, nor can a nobler instance be found in story, of a

ready obedience and just deference to orders.  Hannibal, though in

a bad condition himself, and almost driven out of Italy, could

scarcely be induced to obey, when he was called home to serve his

country.  Alexander made a jest of the battle between Agis and

Antipater, laughing and saying, "So, whilst we were conquering

Darius in Asia, it seems there was a battle of mice in Arcadia."

Happy Sparta, meanwhile, in the justice and modesty of Agesilaus,

and in the deference he paid to the laws of his country; who,

immediately upon receipt of his orders, though in the midst of his

high fortune and power, and in full hope of great and glorious

success, gave all up and instantly departed, "his object

unachieved," leaving many regrets behind him among his allies in

Asia, and proving by his example the falseness of that saying of

Demostratus, the son of Phaeax, "That the Lacedaemonians were

better in public, but the Athenians in private."  For while

approving himself an excellent king and general, he likewise showed

himself in private an excellent friend, and a most agreeable

companion.

The coin of Persia was stamped with the figure of an archer;

Agesilaus said, That a thousand Persian archers had driven him out

of Asia; meaning the money that had been laid out in bribing the

demagogues and the orators in Thebes and Athens, and thus inciting

those two States to hostility against Sparta.

Having passed the Hellespont, he marched by land through Thrace,

not begging or entreating a passage anywhere, only he sent his

messengers to them, to demand whether they would have him pass as a

friend or as an enemy.  All the rest received him as a friend, and

assisted him on his journey.  But the Trallians, to whom Xerxes

also is said to have given money, demanded a price of him, namely,

one hundred talents of silver, and one hundred women.  Agesilaus in

scorn asked, Why they were not ready to receive them?  He marched

on, and finding the Trallians in arms to oppose him, fought them,

and slew great numbers of them.  He sent the like embassy to the

king of Macedonia, who replied, He would take time to deliberate:

"Let him deliberate," said Agesilaus, "we will go forward in the

meantime."  The Macedonian, being surprised and daunted at the

resolution of the Spartan, gave orders to let him pass as friend.

When he came into Thessaly, he wasted the country, because they

were in league with the enemy.  To Larissa, the chief city of

Thessaly, he sent Xenocles and Scythes to treat of a peace, whom

when the Larissaeans had laid hold of, and put into custody, others

were enraged, and advised the siege of the town; but he answered,

That he valued either of those men at more than the whole country

of Thessaly.  He therefore made terms with them, and received his

men again upon composition.  Nor need we wonder at this saying of

Agesilaus, since when he had news brought him from Sparta, of

several great captains slain in a battle near Corinth, in which the

slaughter fell upon other Greeks, and the Lacedaemonians obtained a

great victory with small loss, he did not appear at all satisfied;

but with a great sigh cried out, "O Greece, how many brave men hast

thou destroyed; who, if they had been preserved to so good an use,

had sufficed to have conquered all Persia!"  Yet when the

Pharsalians grew troublesome to him, by pressing upon his army, and

incommoding his passage, he led out five hundred horse, and in

person fought and routed them, setting up a trophy under the mount

Narthacius.  He valued himself very much upon that victory, that

with so small a number of his own training, he had vanquished a

body of men that thought themselves the best horsemen of Greece.

Here Diphridas, the Ephor, met him, and delivered his message from

Sparta, which ordered him immediately to make an inroad into

Boeotia; and though he thought this fitter to have been done at

another time, and with greater force, he yet obeyed the

magistrates.  He thereupon told his soldiers that the day was come,

on which they were to enter upon that employment, for the

performance of which they were brought out of Asia.  He sent for

two divisions of the army near Corinth to his assistance.  The

Lacedaemonians at home, in honor to him, made proclamation for

volunteers that would serve under the king, to come in and be

enlisted.  Finding all the young men in the city ready to offer

themselves, they chose fifty of the strongest, and sent them.

Agesilaus having gained Thermopylae, and passed quietly through

Phocis, as soon as he had entered Boeotia, and pitched his camp

near Chaeronea, at once met with an eclipse of the sun, and with

ill news from the navy, Pisander, the Spartan admiral, being beaten

and slain at Cnidos, by Pharnabazus and Conon.  He was much moved

at it, both upon his own and the public account.  Yet lest his

army, being now near engaging, should meet with any discouragement,

he ordered the messengers to give out, that the Spartans were the

conquerors, and he himself putting on a garland, solemnly

sacrificed for the good news, and sent portions of the sacrifices

to his friends.

When he came near to Coronea, and was within view of the enemy, he

drew up his army, and giving the left wing to the Orchomenians, he

himself led the right.  The Thebans took the right wing of their

army, leaving the left to the Argives.  Xenophon, who was present,

and fought on Agesilaus's side, reports it to be the hardest fought

battle that he had seen.  The beginning of it was not so, for the

Thebans soon put the Orchomenians to rout, as also did Agesilaus

the Argives.  But both parties having news of the misfortune of

their left wings, they betook themselves to their relief.  Here

Agesilaus might have been sure of his victory, had he contented

himself not to charge them in the front, but in the flank or rear;

but being angry and heated in the fight, he would not wait the

opportunity, but fell on at once, thinking to bear them down before

him.  The Thebans were not behind him in courage, so that the

battle was fiercely carried on on both sides, especially near

Agesilaus's person, whose new guard of fifty volunteers stood him

in great stead that day, and saved his life.  They fought with

great valor, and interposed their bodies frequently between him and

danger, yet could they not so preserve him, but that he received

many wounds through his armor with lances and swords, and was with

much difficulty gotten off alive by their making a ring about him,

and so guarding him, with the slaughter of many of the enemy and

the loss of many of their own number.  At length finding it too

hard a task to break the front of the Theban troops, they opened

their own files, and let the enemy march through them, (an artifice

which in the beginning they scorned,) watching in the meantime the

posture of the enemy, who having passed through, grew careless, as

esteeming themselves past danger; in which position they were

immediately set upon by the Spartans.  Yet were they not then put

to rout, but marched on to Helicon, proud of what they had done,

being able to say, that they themselves, as to their part of the

army, were not worsted.

Agesilaus, sore wounded as he was, would not be borne to his tent,

till he had been first carried about the field, and had seen the

dead conveyed within his encampment.  As many of his enemies as had

taken sanctuary in the temple, he dismissed.  For there stood near

the battlefield, the temple of Minerva the Itonian, and before it a

trophy erected by the Boeotians, for the victory which under the

conduct of Sparton, their general, they obtained over the Athenians

under Tolmides, who himself fell in the battle.  And next morning

early, to make trial of the Theban courage, whether they had any

mind to a second encounter, he commanded his soldiers to put on

garlands on their heads, and play with their flutes, and raise a

trophy before their faces; but when they, instead of fighting, sent

for leave to bury their dead, he gave it them; and having so

assured himself of the victory, after this he went to Delphi, to

the Pythian games, which were then celebrating, at which feast he

assisted, and there solemnly offered the tenth part of the spoils

he had brought from Asia, which amounted to a hundred talents.

Thence he returned to his own country, where his way and habits of

life quickly excited the affection and admiration of the Spartans;

for, unlike other generals, he came home from foreign lands the

same man that he went out, having not so learned the fashions of

other countries, as to forget his own, much less to dislike or

despise them.  He followed and respected all the Spartan customs,

without any change either in the manner of his supping, or bathing,

or his wife's apparel, as if he had never traveled over the river

Eurotas.  So also with his household furniture and his own armor;

nay, the very gates of his house were so old, that they might well

be thought of Aristodemus's setting up.  His daughter's Canathrum,

says Xenophon, was no richer than that of any one else.  The

Canathrum, as they call it, is a chair or chariot made of wood, in

the shape of a griffin, or tragelaphus, on which the children and

young virgins are carried in processions.  Xenophon has not left us

the name of this daughter of Agesilaus; and Dicaearchus expresses

some indignation, because we do not know, he says, the name of

Agesilaus's daughter, nor of Epaminondas's mother.  But in the

records of Laconia, we ourselves found his wife's name to have been

Cleora, and his two daughters to have been called Eupolia and

Prolyta.  And you may also to this day see Agesilaus's spear kept

in Sparta, nothing differing from that of other men.

There was a vanity he observed among the Spartans, about keeping

running horses for the Olympic games, upon which he found they much

valued themselves.  Agesilaus regarded it as a display not of any

real virtue, but of wealth and expense; and to make this evident to

the Greeks, induced his sister, Cynisca, to send a chariot into the

course.  He kept with him Xenophon, the philosopher, and made much

of him, and proposed to him to send for his children, and educate

them at Sparta, where they would be taught the best of all

learning; how to obey, and how to command.  Finding on Lysander's

death a large faction formed, which he on his return from Asia had

established against Agesilaus, he thought it advisable to expose

both him and it, by showing what manner of a citizen he had been

whilst he lived.  To that end, finding among his writings all

oration, composed by Cleon the Halicarnassean, but to have been

spoken by Lysander in a public assembly, to excite the people to

innovations and changes in the government, he resolved to publish

it, as an evidence of Lysander's practices.  But one of the Elders

having the perusal of it, and finding it powerfully written,

advised him to have a care of digging up Lysander again, and rather

bury that oration in the grave with him; and this advice he wisely

hearkened to, and hushed the whole thing up; and ever after forbore

publicly to affront any of his adversaries, but took occasions of

picking out the ringleaders, and sending them away upon foreign

services.  He thus had means for exposing the avarice and the

injustice of many of them in their employments; and again when they

were by others brought into question, he made it his business to

bring them off, obliging them, by that means, of enemies to become

his friends, and so by degrees left none remaining.

Agesipolis, his fellow king, was under the disadvantage of being

born of an exiled father, and himself young, modest, and inactive,

meddled not much in affairs.  Agesilaus took a course of gaining

him over, and making him entirely tractable.  According to the

custom of Sparta, the kings, if they were in town, always dined

together.  This was Agesilaus's opportunity of dealing with

Agesipolis, whom he found quick, as he himself was, in forming

attachments for young men, and accordingly talked with him always

on such subjects, joining and aiding him, and acting as his

confidant, such attachments in Sparta being entirely honorable, and

attended always with lively feeling of modesty, love of virtue, and

a noble emulation; of which more is said in Lycurgus's life.

Having thus established his power in the city, he easily obtained

that his half-brother Teleutias might be chosen admiral, and

thereupon making all expedition against the Corinthians, he made

himself master of the long walls by land, through the assistance of

his brother at sea.  Coming thus upon the Argives, who then held

Corinth, in the midst of their Isthmian festival, he made them fly

from the sacrifice they had just commenced, and leave all their

festive provision behind them.  The exiled Corinthians that were in

the Spartan army, desired him to keep the feast, and to preside in

the celebration of it.  This he refused, but gave them leave to

carry on the solemnity if they pleased, and he in the meantime

stayed and guarded them.  When Agesilaus marched off, the Argives

returned and celebrated the games over again, when some who were

victors before, became victors a second time, others lost the

prizes which before they had gained.  Agesilaus thus made it clear

to everybody, that the Argives must in their own eyes have been

guilty of great cowardice, since they set such a value on presiding

at the games, and yet had not dared to fight for it.  He himself

was of opinion, that to keep a mean in such things was best; he

assisted at the sports and dances usual in his own country, and was

always ready and eager to be present at the exercises either of the

young men, or of the girls, but things that many men used to be

highly taken with, he seemed not at all concerned about.

Callippides, the tragic actor, who had a great name in all Greece

and was made much of, once met and saluted him; of which when he

found no notice taken, he confidently thrust himself into his

train, expecting that Agesilaus would pay him some attention.  When

all that failed, he boldly accosted him, and asked him, whether he

did not remember him?  Agesilaus turned, and looking him in the

face, "Are you not," said he, "Callippides the showman?"  Being

invited once to hear a man who admirably imitated the nightingale,

he declined, saying, he had heard the nightingale itself.

Menecrates, the physician, having had great success in some

desperate diseases, was by way of flattery called Jupiter; he was

so vain as to take the name, and having occasion to write a letter

to Agesilaus, thus addressed it:  "Jupiter Menecrates to King

Agesilaus, greeting."  The king returned answer:  "Agesilaus to

Menecrates, health and a sound mind."

Whilst Agesilaus was in the Corinthian territories, having just

taken the Heraeum, he was looking on while his soldiers were

carrying away the prisoners and the plunder, when ambassadors from

Thebes came to him to treat of peace.  Having a great aversion for

that city, and thinking it then advantageous to his affairs

publicly to slight them, he took the opportunity, and would not

seem either to see them, or hear them speak.  But as if on purpose

to punish him in his pride, before they parted from him, messengers

came with news of the complete slaughter of one of the Spartan

divisions by Iphicrates, a greater disaster than had befallen them

for many years; and that the more grievous, because it was a choice

regiment of full-armed Lacedaemonians overthrown by a parcel of

mere mercenary targeteers.  Agesilaus leapt from his seat, to go at

once to their rescue, but found it too late, the business being

over.  He therefore returned to the Heraeum, and sent for the

Theban ambassadors to give them audience.  They now resolved to be

even with him for the affront he gave them, and without speaking

one word of the peace, only desired leave to go into Corinth.

Agesilaus, irritated with this proposal, told them in scorn, that

if they were anxious to go and see how proud their friends were of

their success, they should do it tomorrow with safety.  Next

morning, taking the ambassadors with him, he ravaged the Corinthian

territories, up to the very gates of the city, where having made a

stand, and let the ambassadors see that the Corinthians durst not

come out to defend themselves, he dismissed them.  Then gathering

up the small remainders of the shattered regiment, he marched

homewards, always removing his camp before day, and always pitching

his tents after night, that he might prevent their enemies among

the Arcadians from taking any opportunity of insulting over their

loss.

After this, at the request of the Achaeans, he marched with them

into Acarnania, and there collected great spoils, and defeated the

Acarnanians in battle.  The Achaeans would have persuaded him to

keep his winter quarters there, to hinder the Acarnanians from

sowing their corn; but he was of the contrary opinion, alleging,

that they would be more afraid of a war next summer, when their

fields were sown, than they would be if they lay fallow.  The event

justified his opinion; for next summer, when the Achaeans began

their expedition again, the Acarnanians immediately made peace with

them.

When Conon and Pharnabazus with the Persian navy were grown masters

of the sea, and had not only infested the coast of Laconia, but

also rebuilt the walls of Athens at the cost of Pharnabazus, the

Lacedaemonians thought fit to treat of peace with the king of

Persia.  To that end, they sent Antalcidas to Tiribazus, basely and

wickedly betraying the Asiatic Greeks, on whose behalf Agesilaus

had made the war.  But no part of this dishonor fell upon

Agesilaus, the whole being transacted by Antalcidas, who was his

bitter enemy, and was urgent for peace upon any terms, because war

was sure to increase his power and reputation.  Nevertheless once

being told by way of reproach, that the Lacedaemonians had gone

over to the Medes, he replied, "No, the Medes have come over to the

Lacedaemonians."  And when the Greeks were backward to submit to

the agreement, he threatened them with war, unless they fulfilled

the king of Persia's conditions, his particular end in this being

to weaken the Thebans; for it was made one of the articles of

peace, that the country of Boeotia should be left independent.

This feeling of his to Thebes appeared further afterwards, when

Phoebidas, in full peace, most unjustifiably seized upon the

Cadmea.  The thing was much resented by all Greece, and not well

liked by the Lacedaemonians themselves; those especially who were

enemies to Agesilaus, required an account of the action, and by

whose authority it was done, laying the suspicion of it at his

door.  Agesilaus resolutely answered, on the behalf of Phoebidas,

that the profitableness of the act was chiefly to be considered; if

it were for the advantage of the commonwealth, it was no matter

whether it were done with or without authority.  This was the more

remarkable in him, because in his ordinary language, he was always

observed to be a great maintainer of justice, and would commend it

as the chief of virtues, saying, that valor without justice was

useless, and if all the world were just, there would be no need of

valor.  When any would say to him, the Great King will have it so;

he would reply, "How is he greater than I, unless he be juster?"

nobly and rightly taking, as a sort of royal measure of greatness,

justice, and not force.  And thus when, on the conclusion of the

peace, the king of Persia wrote to Agesilaus, desiring a private

friendship and relations of hospitality, he refused it, saying,

that the public friendship was enough; whilst that lasted there was

no need of private.  Yet in his acts he was not constant to his

doctrine, but sometimes out of ambition, and sometimes out of

private pique, he let himself be carried away; and particularly in

this case of the Thebans, he not only saved Phoebidas, but

persuaded the Lacedaemonians to take the fault upon themselves, and

to retain the Cadmea, putting a garrison into it, and to put the

government of Thebes into the hands of Archias and Leontidas, who

had been betrayers of the castle to them.

This excited strong suspicion that what Phoebidas did was by

Agesilaus's order, which was corroborated by after occurrences.

For when the Thebans had expelled the garrison, and asserted their

liberty, he, accusing them of the murder of Archias and Leontidas,

who indeed were tyrants, though in name holding the office of

Polemarchs, made war upon them.  He sent Cleombrotus on that

errand, who was now his fellow king, in the place of Agesipolis,

who was dead, excusing himself by reason of his age; for it was

forty years since he had first borne arms, and he was consequently

exempt by the law; meanwhile the true reason was, that he was

ashamed, having so lately fought against tyranny in behalf of the

Phliasians, to fight now in defense of a tyranny against the

Thebans.

One Sphodrias, of Lacedaemon, of the contrary faction to Agesilaus,

was governor in Thespiae, a bold and enterprising man, though he

had perhaps more of confidence than wisdom.  This action of

Phoebidas fired him, and incited his ambition to attempt some great

enterprise, which might render him as famous as he perceived the

taking of the Cadmea had made Phoebidas.  He thought the sudden

capture of the Piraeus, and the cutting off thereby the Athenians

from the sea, would be a matter of far more glory.  It is said,

too, that Pelopidas and Melon, the chief captains of Boeotia, put

him upon it; that they privily sent men to him, pretending to be of

the Spartan faction, who, highly commending Sphodrias, filled him

with a great opinion of himself, protesting him to be the only man

in the world that was fit for so great an enterprise.  Being thus

stimulated, he could hold no longer, but hurried into an attempt as

dishonorable and treacherous as that of the Cadmea, but executed

with less valor and less success; for the day broke whilst he was

yet in the Thriasian plain, whereas he designed the whole exploit

to have been done in the night.  As soon as the soldiers perceived

the rays of light reflecting from the temples of Eleusis, upon the

first rising of the sun, it is said that their hearts failed them;

nay, he himself, when he saw that he could not have the benefit of

the night, had not courage enough to go on with his enterprise;

but, having pillaged the country, he returned with shame to

Thespiae.  An embassy was upon this sent from Athens to Sparta, to

complain of the breach of peace; but the ambassadors found their

journey needless, Sphodrias being then under process by the

magistrates of Sparta.  Sphodrias durst not stay to expect

judgment, which he found would be capital, the city being highly

incensed against him, out of the shame they felt at the business,

and their desire to appear in the eyes of the Athenians as

fellow-sufferers; in the wrong, rather than accomplices in its

being done.

This Sphodrias had a son of great beauty named Cleonymus, to whom

Archidamus, the son of Agesilaus, was extremely attached.

Archidamus, as became him, was concerned for the danger of his

friend's father, but yet he durst not do anything openly for his

assistance, he being one of the professed enemies of Agesilaus.

But Cleonymus having solicited him with tears about it, as knowing

Agesilaus to be of all his father's enemies the most formidable,

the young man for two or three days followed after his father with

such fear and confusion, that he durst not speak to him.  At last,

the day of sentence being at hand, he ventured to tell him, that

Cleonymus had entreated him to intercede for his father Agesilaus,

though well aware of the love between the two young men, yet did

not prohibit it, because Cleonymus from his earliest years had been

looked upon as a youth of very great promise; yet he gave not his

son any kind or hopeful answer in the case, but coldly told him,

that he would consider what he could honestly and honorably do in

it, and so dismissed him.  Archidamus, being ashamed of his want of

success, forbore the company of Cleonymus, whom he usually saw

several times every day.  This made the friends of Sphodrias to

think his case desperate, till Etymocles, one of Agesilaus's

friends, discovered to them the king's mind, namely, that he

abhorred the fact, but yet he thought Sphodrias a gallant man, such

as the commonwealth much wanted at that time.  For Agesilaus used

to talk thus concerning the cause, out of a desire to gratify his

son.  And now Cleonymus quickly understood, that Archidamus had

been true to him, in using all his interest with his father; and

Sphodrias's friends ventured to be forward in his defense.  The

truth is, that Agesilaus was excessively fond of his children; and

it is to him the story belongs, that when they were little ones, he

used to make a horse of a stick, and ride with them; and being

caught at this sport by a friend, he desired him not to mention it,

till he himself were the father of children.

Meanwhile, Sphodrias being acquitted, the Athenians betook

themselves to arms, and Agesilaus fell into disgrace with the

people; since to gratify the whims of a boy, he had been willing to

pervert justice, and make the city accessory to the crimes of

private men, whose most unjustifiable actions had broken the peace

of Greece.  He also found his colleague, Cleombrotus, little

inclined to the Theban war; so that it became necessary for him to

waive the privilege of his age, which he before had claimed, and to

lead the army himself into Boeotia; which he did with variety of

success, sometimes conquering, and sometimes conquered; insomuch

that receiving a wound in a battle, he was reproached by

Antalcidas, that the Thebans had paid him well for the lessons he

had given them in fighting.  And, indeed, they were now grown far

better soldiers than ever they had been, being so continually kept

in training, by the frequency of the Lacedaemonian expeditions

against them.  Out of the foresight of which it was, that anciently

Lycurgus, in three several laws, forbade them to make many wars

with the same nation, as this would be to instruct their enemies in

the art of it.  Meanwhile, the allies of Sparta were not a little

discontented at Agesilaus, because this war was commenced not upon

any fair public ground of quarrel, but merely out of his private

hatred to the Thebans; and they complained with indignation, that

they, being the majority of the army, should from year to year be

thus exposed to danger and hardship here and there, at the will of

a few persons.  It was at this time, we are told, that Agesilaus,

to obviate the objection, devised this expedient, to show the

allies were not the greater number.  He gave orders that all the

allies, of whatever country, should sit down promiscuously on one

side, and all the Lacedaemonians on the other:  which being done,

he commanded a herald to proclaim, that all the potters of both

divisions should stand out; then all the blacksmiths; then all the

masons; next the carpenters; and so he went through all the

handicrafts.  By this time almost all the allies were risen, but of

the Lacedaemonians not a man, they being by law forbidden to learn

any mechanical business; and now Agesilaus laughed and said, "You

see, my friends, how many more soldiers we send out than you do."

When he brought back his army from Boeotia through Megara, as he

was going up to the magistrate's office in the Acropolis, he was

suddenly seized with pain and cramp in his sound leg, and great

swelling and inflammation ensued.  He was treated by a Syracusan

physician, who let him blood below the ankle; this soon eased his

pain, but then the blood could not be stopped, till the loss of it

brought on fainting and swooning; at length, with much trouble, he

stopped it.  Agesilaus was carried home to Sparta in a very weak

condition, and did not recover strength enough to appear in the

field for a long time after.

Meanwhile, the Spartan fortune was but ill; they received many

losses both by sea and land; but the greatest was that at Tegyrae,

when for the first time they were beaten by the Thebans in a set

battle.

All the Greeks were, accordingly, disposed to a general peace, and

to that end ambassadors came to Sparta.  Among these was

Epaminondas, the Theban, famous at that time for his philosophy and

learning, but he had not yet given proof of his capacity as a

general.  He, seeing all the others crouch to Agesilaus, and court

favor with him, alone maintained the dignity of an ambassador, and

with that freedom that became his character, made a speech in

behalf not of Thebes only, from whence he came, but of all Greece,

remonstrating, that Sparta alone grew great by war, to the distress

and suffering of all her neighbors.  He urged, that a peace should

be made upon just and equal terms, such as alone would be a lasting

one, which could not otherwise be done, than by reducing all to

equality.  Agesilaus, perceiving all the other Greeks to give much

attention to this discourse, and to be pleased with it, presently

asked him, whether he thought it a part of this justice and

equality that the Boeotian towns should enjoy their independence.

Epaminondas instantly and without wavering asked him in return,

whether he thought it just and equal that the Laconian towns should

enjoy theirs.  Agesilaus started from his seat and bade him once

for all speak out and say whether or not Boeotia should be

independent.  And when Epaminondas replied once again with the same

inquiry, whether Laconia should be so, Agesilaus was so enraged

that, availing himself of the pretext he immediately struck the

name of the Thebans out of the league, and declared war against

them.  With the rest of the Greeks he made a peace, and dismissed

them with this saying, that what could be peaceably adjusted,

should; what was otherwise incurable, must be committed to the

success of war, it being a thing of too great difficulty to provide

for all things by treaty.  The Ephors upon this dispatched their

orders to Cleombrotus, who was at that time in Phocis, to march

directly into Boeotia, and at the same time sent to their allies

for aid.  The confederates were very tardy in the business, and

unwilling to engage, but as yet they feared the Spartans too much

to dare to refuse.  And although many portents, and prodigies of

ill presage, which I have mentioned in the life of Epaminondas,

had appeared; and though Prothous, the Laconian, did all he could

to hinder it, yet Agesilaus would needs go forward, and prevailed

so, that the war was decreed.  He thought the present juncture of

affairs very advantageous for their revenge, the rest of Greece

being wholly free, and the Thebans excluded from the peace.  But

that this war was undertaken more upon passion than judgment, the

event may prove; for the treaty was finished but the fourteenth of

Scirophorion, and the Lacedaemonians received their great overthrow

at Leuctra, on the fifth of Hecatombaeon, within twenty days.

There fell at that time a thousand, Spartans, and Cleombrotus their

king, and around him the bravest men of the nation; particularly,

the beautiful youth, Cleonymus the son of Sphodrias, who was thrice

struck down at the feet of the king, and as often rose, but was

slain at the last.

This unexpected blow, which fell so heavy upon the Lacedaemonians,

brought greater glory to Thebes than ever was acquired by any other

of the Grecian republics, in their civil wars against each other.

The behavior, notwithstanding, of the Spartans, though beaten, was

as great, and as highly to be admired, as that of the Thebans.  And

indeed, if, as Xenophon says, in conversation good men even in

their sports and at their wine let fall many sayings that are worth

the preserving; how much more worthy to be recorded, is an

exemplary constancy of mind, as shown both in the words and in the

acts of brave men, when they are pressed by adverse fortune!  It

happened that the Spartans were celebrating a solemn feast, at

which many strangers were present from other countries, and the

town full of them, when this news of the overthrow came.  It was

the gymnopaediae, and the boys were dancing in the theater, when

the messengers arrived from Leuctra.  The Ephors, though they were

sufficiently aware that this blow had ruined the Spartan power, and

that their primacy over the rest of Greece was gone for ever, yet

gave orders that the dances should not break off, nor any of the

celebration of the festival abate; but privately sending the names

of the slain to each family, out of which they were lost, they

continued the public spectacles.  The next morning, when they had

full intelligence concerning it, and everybody knew who were slain,

and who survived, the fathers, relatives, and friends of the slain

came out rejoicing in the market-place, saluting each other with a

kind of exultation; on the contrary, the fathers of the survivors

hid themselves at home among the women.  If necessity drove any of

them abroad, they went very dejectedly, with downcast looks, and

sorrowful countenances.  The women outdid the men in it; those

whose sons were slain, openly rejoicing, cheerfully making visits

to one another, and meeting triumphantly in the temples; they who

expected their children home, being very silent, and much troubled.

But the people in general, when their allies now began to desert

them, and Epaminondas, in all the confidence of victory, was

expected with an invading army in Peloponnesus, began to think

again of Agesilaus's lameness, and to entertain feelings of

religious fear and despondency, as if their having rejected the

sound-footed, and having chosen the halting king, which the oracle

had specially warned them against, was the occasion of all their

distresses.  Yet the regard they had to the merit and reputation of

Agesilaus, so far stilled this murmuring of the people, that

notwithstanding it, they entrusted themselves to him in this

distress, as the only man that was fit to heal the public malady,

the arbiter of all their difficulties, whether relating to the

affairs of war or peace.  One great one was then before them,

concerning the runaways (as their name is for them) that had fled

out of the battle, who being many and powerful, it was feared that

they might make some commotion in the republic, to prevent the

execution of the law upon them for their cowardice.  The law in

that case was very severe; for they were not only to be debarred

from all honors, but also it was a disgrace to intermarry with

them; whoever met any of them in the streets, might beat him if he

chose, nor was it lawful for him to resist; they in the meanwhile

were obliged to go about unwashed and meanly dressed, with their

clothes patched with divers colors, and to wear their beards half

shaved half unshaven.  To execute so rigid a law as this, in a case

where the offenders were so many, and many of them of such

distinction, and that in a time when the commonwealth wanted

soldiers so much as then it did, was of dangerous consequence.

Therefore they chose Agesilaus as a sort of new lawgiver for the

occasion.  But he, without adding to or diminishing from or any

way changing the law, came out into the public assembly, and said,

that the law should sleep for today, but from this day forth be

vigorously executed.  By this means he at once preserved the law

from abrogation, and the citizens from infamy; and that he might

alleviate the despondency and self-distrust of the young men, he

made an inroad into Arcadia, where carefully avoiding all fighting,

he contented himself with spoiling the territory, and taking a

small town belonging to the Mantineans, thus reviving the hearts of

the people, letting them see that they were not everywhere

unsuccessful.

Epaminondas now invaded Laconia, with an army of forty thousand,

besides light-armed men and others that followed the camp only for

plunder, so that in all they were at least seventy thousand.  It

was now six hundred years since the Dorians had possessed Laconia,

and in all that time the face of an enemy had not been seen within

their territories, no man daring to invade them; but now they made

their entrance, and burnt and plundered without resistance the

hitherto untouched and sacred territory, up to Eurotas, and the

very suburbs of Sparta; for Agesilaus would not permit them to

encounter so impetuous a torrent, as Theopompus calls it, of war.

He contented himself with fortifying the chief parts of the city,

and with placing guards in convenient places, enduring meanwhile

the taunts of the Thebans, who reproached him by name as the

kindler of the war, and the author of all that mischief to his

country, bidding him defend himself if he could.  But this was not

all; he was equally disturbed at home with the tumults of the city,

the outcries and running about of the old men, who were enraged at

their present condition, and the women, yet worse, out of their

senses with the clamors, and the fires of the enemy in the field.

He was also himself afflicted by the sense of his lost glory; who

having come to the throne of Sparta when it was in its most

flourishing and powerful condition, now lived to see it laid low in

esteem, and all its great vaunts cut down, even that which he

himself had been accustomed to use, that the women of Sparta had

never seen the smoke of the enemy's fire.  As it is said, also,

that when Antalcidas once being in dispute with an Athenian about

the valor of the two nations, the Athenian boasted, that they had

often driven the Spartans from the river Cephisus, "Yes," said

Antalcidas, "but we never had occasion to drive you from Eurotas."

And a common Spartan of less note, being in company with an Argive,

who was bragging how many Spartans lay buried in the fields of

Argos, replied, "None of you are buried in the country of Laconia."

Yet now the case was so altered, that Antalcidas, being one of the

Ephors, out of fear sent away his children privately to the island

of Cythera.

When the enemy essayed to get over the river, and thence to attack

the town, Agesilaus, abandoning the rest, betook himself to the

high places and strong-holds of it.  But it happened, that Eurotas

at that time was swollen to a great height with the snow that had

fallen, and made the passage very difficult to the Thebans, not

only by its depth, but much more by its extreme coldness.  Whilst

this was doing, Epaminondas was seen in the front of the phalanx,

and was pointed out to Agesilaus, who looked long at him, and said

but these words, "O, bold man!"  But when he came to the city, and

would have fain attempted something within the limits of it that

might raise him a trophy there, he could not tempt Agesilaus out of

his hold, but was forced to march off again, wasting the country as

he went.

Meanwhile, a body of long discontented and bad citizens, about two

hundred in number, having got into a strong part of the town called

the Issorion, where the temple of Diana stands, seized and

garrisoned it.  The Spartans would have fallen upon them instantly;

but Agesilaus, not knowing how far the sedition might reach, bade

them forbear, and going himself in his ordinary dress, with but one

servant, when he came near the rebels, called out, and told them,

that they mistook their orders; this was not the right place; they

were to go, one part of them thither, showing them another place in

the city, and part to another, which he also showed.  The

conspirators gladly heard this, thinking themselves unsuspected of

treason, and readily went off to the places which he showed them.

Whereupon Agesilaus placed in their room a guard of his own; and

of the conspirators he apprehended fifteen, and put them to death

in the night.  But after this, a much more dangerous conspiracy was

discovered of Spartan citizens, who had privately met in each

other's houses, plotting a revolution.  These were men whom it was

equally dangerous to prosecute publicly according to law, and to

connive at.  Agesilaus took counsel with the Ephors, and put these

also to death privately without process; a thing never before known

in the case of any born Spartan.

At this time, also, many of the Helots and country people, who were

in the army, ran away to the enemy, which was matter of great

consternation to the city.  He therefore caused some officers of

his, every morning before day, to search the quarters of the

soldiers, and where any man was gone, to hide his arms, that so the

greatness of the number might not appear.

Historians differ about the cause of the Thebans' departure from

Sparta.  Some say, the winter forced them; as also that the

Arcadian soldiers disbanding, made it necessary for the rest to

retire.  Others say, that they stayed there three months, till they

had laid the whole country waste.  Theopompus is the only author

who says that when the Boeotian generals had already resolved upon

the retreat, Phrixus, the Spartan, came to them, and offered them

from Agesilaus ten talents to be gone, so hiring them to do what

they were already doing of their own accord.  How he alone should

come to be aware of this, I know not; only in this all authors

agree, that the saving of Sparta from ruin was wholly due to the

wisdom of Agesilaus, who in this extremity of affairs quitted all

his ambition and his haughtiness, and resolved to play a saving

game.  But all his wisdom and courage was not sufficient to recover

the glory of it, and to raise it to its ancient greatness.  For as

we see in human bodies, long used to a very strict and too

exquisitely regular diet, any single great disorder is usually

fatal; so here one stroke overthrew the whole State's long

prosperity.  Nor can we be surprised at this.  Lycurgus had formed

a polity admirably designed for the peace, harmony, and virtuous

life of the citizens; and their fall came from their assuming

foreign dominion and arbitrary sway, things wholly undesirable, in

the judgment of Lycurgus, for a well-conducted and happy State.

Agesilaus being now in years, gave over all military employments;

but his son Archidamus, having received help from Dionysius of

Sicily, gave a great defeat to the Arcadians, in the fight known by

the name of the Tearless Battle, in which there was a great

slaughter of the enemy, without the loss of one Spartan.  Yet this

victory, more than anything else, discovered the present weakness

of Sparta; for heretofore victory was esteemed so usual a thing

with them, that for their greatest successes, they merely

sacrificed a cock to the gods.  The soldiers never vaunted, nor did

the citizens display any great joy at the news; even when the great

victory, described by Thucydides, was obtained at Mantinea, the

messenger that brought the news had no other reward than a piece of

meat, sent by the magistrates from the common table.  But at the

news of this Arcadian victory, they were not able to contain

themselves; Agesilaus went out in procession with tears of joy in

his eyes, to meet and embrace his son, and all the magistrates and

public officers attended him.  The old men and the women marched

out as far as the river Eurotas, lifting up their hands, and

thanking the gods, that Sparta was now cleared again of the

disgrace and indignity that had befallen her, and once more saw the

light of day.  Since before, they tell us, the Spartan men, out of

shame at their disasters, did not dare so much as to look their

wives in the face.

When Epaminondas restored Messene, and recalled from all quarters

the ancient citizens to inhabit it, they were not able to obstruct

the design, being not in condition of appearing in the field

against them.  But it went greatly against Agesilaus in the minds

of his countrymen, when they found so large a territory, equal to

their own in compass, and for fertility the richest of all Greece,

which they had enjoyed so long, taken from them in his reign.

Therefore it was that the king broke off treaty with the Thebans,

when they offered him peace, rather than set his hand to the

passing away of that country, though it was already taken from him.

Which point of honor had like to have cost him dear; for not long

after he was overreached by a stratagem, which had almost amounted

to the loss of Sparta.  For when the Mantineans again revolted from

Thebes to Sparta, and Epaminondas understood that Agesilaus was

come to their assistance with a powerful army, he privately in the

night quitted his quarters at Tegea, and unknown to the Mantineans,

passing by Agesilaus, marched towards Sparta, insomuch that he

failed very little of taking it empty and unarmed.  Agesilaus had

intelligence sent him by Euthynus, the Thespian, as Callisthenes

says, but Xenophon says by a Cretan; and immediately dispatched a

horseman to Lacedaemon, to apprise them of it, and to let them know

that he was hastening to them.  Shortly after his arrival the

Thebans crossed the Eurotas.  They made an assault upon the town,

and were received by Agesilaus with great courage, and with

exertions beyond what was to be expected at his years.  For he did

not now fight with that caution and cunning which he formerly made

use of, but put all upon a desperate push; which, though not his

usual method, succeeded so well, that he rescued the city out of

the very hands of Epaminondas, and forced him to retire, and, at

the erection of a trophy, was able, in the presence of their wives

and children, to declare that the Lacedaemonians had nobly paid

their debt to their country, and particularly his son Archidamus,

who had that day made himself illustrious, both by his courage and

agility of body, rapidly passing about by the short lanes to every

endangered point, and everywhere maintaining the town against the

enemy with but few to help him.  Isadas, however, the son of

Phoebidas, must have been, I think, the admiration of the enemy as

well as of his friends.  He was a youth of remarkable beauty and

stature, in the very flower of the most attractive time of life,

when the boy is just rising into the man.  He had no arms upon him,

and scarcely clothes; he had just anointed himself at home, when

upon the alarm, without further waiting, in that undress, he

snatched a spear in one hand, and a sword in the other, and broke

his way through the combatants to the enemies, striking at all he

met.  He received no wound, whether it were that a special divine

care rewarded his valor with an extraordinary protection, or

whether his shape being so large and beautiful, and his dress so

unusual, they thought him more than a man.  The Ephors gave him a

garland; but as soon as they had done so, they fined him a thousand

drachmas, for going out to battle unarmed.

A few days after this there was another battle fought near

Mantinea, in which Epaminondas, having routed the van of the

Lacedaemonians, was eager in the pursuit of them, when Anticrates,

the Laconian, wounded him with a spear, says Dioscorides; but the

Spartans to this day call the posterity of this Anticrates,

swordsmen, because he wounded Epaminondas with a sword.  They so

dreaded Epaminondas when living, that the slayer of him was

embraced and admired by all; they decreed honors and gifts to him,

and an exemption from taxes to his posterity, a privilege enjoyed

at this day by Callicrates, one of his descendants.

Epaminondas being slain, there was a general peace again concluded,

from which Agesilaus's party excluded the Messenians, as men that

had no city, and therefore would not let them swear to the league;

to which when the rest of the Greeks admitted them, the

Lacedaemonians broke off, and continued the war alone, in hopes of

subduing the Messenians.  In this Agesilaus was esteemed a stubborn

and headstrong man, and insatiable of war, who took such pains to

undermine the general peace, and to protract the war at a time when

he had not money to carry it on with, but was forced to borrow of

his friends and raise subscriptions, with much difficulty, while

the city, above all things, needed repose.  And all this to recover

the one poor town of Messene, after he had lost so great an empire

both by sea and land, as the Spartans were possessed of, when he

began to reign.

But it added still more to his ill-repute when he put himself into

the service of Tachos, the Egyptian.  They thought it too unworthy

of a man of his high station, who was then looked upon as the first

commander in all Greece, who had filled all countries with his

renown, to let himself out to hire to a barbarian, an Egyptian

rebel, (for Tachos was no better) and to fight for pay, as captain

only of a band of mercenaries.  If, they said, at those years of

eighty and odd, after his body had been worn out with age, and

enfeebled with wounds, he had resumed that noble undertaking, the

liberation of the Greeks from Persia, it had been worthy of some

reproof.  To make an action honorable, it ought to be agreeable to

the age, and other circumstances of the person; since it is

circumstance and proper measure that give an action its character,

and make it either good or bad.  But Agesilaus valued not other

men's discourses; he thought no public employment dishonorable; the

ignoblest thing in his esteem, was for a man to sit idle and

useless at home, waiting for his death to come and take him.  The

money, therefore, that he received from Tachos, he laid out in

raising men, with whom having filled his ships, he took also thirty

Spartan counselors with him, as formerly he had done in his Asiatic

expedition, and set sail for Egypt.

As soon as he arrived in Egypt, all the great officers of the

kingdom came to pay their compliments to him at his landing.  His

reputation being so great had raised the expectation of the whole

country, and crowds flocked in to see him; but when they found,

instead of the splendid prince whom they looked for, a little old

man of contemptible appearance, without all ceremony lying down

upon the grass, in coarse and threadbare clothes, they fell into

laughter and scorn of him, crying out, that the old proverb was;

now made good, "The mountain had brought forth a mouse."  They were

yet more astonished at his stupidity, as they thought it, who, when

presents were made him of all sorts of provisions, took only the

meal, the calves, and the geese, but rejected the sweetmeats, the

confections and perfumes; and when they urged him to the acceptance

of them, took them and gave them to the helots in his army.  Yet he

was taken, Theophrastus tells us, with the garlands they made of

the papyrus, because of their simplicity, and when he returned

home, he demanded one of the king, which he carried with him.

When he joined with Tachos, he found his expectation of being

general-in-chief disappointed.  Tachos reserved that place for

himself, making Agesilaus only captain of the mercenaries, and

Chabrias, the Athenian, commander of the fleet.  This was the first

occasion of his discontent, but there followed others; he was

compelled daily to submit to the insolence and vanity of this

Egyptian, and was at length forced to attend him into Phoenicia, in

a condition much below his character and dignity, which he bore and

put up with for a time, till he had opportunity of showing his

feelings.  It was afforded him by Nectanabis, the cousin of Tachos,

who commanded a large force under him, and shortly after deserted

him, and was proclaimed king by the Egyptians.  This man invited

Agesilaus to join his party, and the like he did to Chabrias,

offering great rewards to both.  Tachos, suspecting it, immediately

applied himself both to Agesilaus and Chabrias, with great humility

beseeching their continuance in his friendship.  Chabrias consented

to it, and did what he could by persuasion and good words to keep

Agesilaus with them.  But he gave this short reply, "You, O

Chabrias, came hither a volunteer, and may go and stay as you see

cause; but I am the servant of Sparta, appointed to head the

Egyptians, and therefore I cannot fight against those to whom I was

sent as a friend, unless I am commanded to do so by my country."

This being said, he dispatched messengers to Sparta, who were

sufficiently supplied with matter both for dispraise of Tachos, and

commendation of Nectanabis.  The two Egyptians also sent their

ambassadors to Lacedaemon, the one to claim continuance of the

league already made, the other to make great offers for the

breaking of it, and making a new one.  The Spartans having heard

both sides, gave in their public answer, that they referred the

whole matter to Agesilaus; but privately wrote to him, to act as he

should find it best for the profit of the commonwealth.  Upon

receipt of his orders, he at once changed sides, carrying all the

mercenaries with him to Nectanabis, covering with the plausible

presence of acting for the benefit of his country, a most

questionable piece of conduct, which, stripped of that disguise, in

real truth was no better than downright treachery.  But the

Lacedaemonians, who make it their first principle of action to

serve their country's interest, know not anything to be just or

unjust by any measure but that.

Tachos, being thus deserted by the mercenaries, fled for it; upon

which a new king of the Mendesian province was proclaimed his

successor, and came against Nectanabis with an army of one hundred

thousand men.  Nectanabis, in his talk with Agesilaus, professed to

despise them as newly raised men, who, though many in number, were

of no skill in war, being most of them mechanics and tradesmen,

never bred to war.  To whom Agesilaus answered, that he did not

fear their numbers, but did fear their ignorance, which gave no

room for employing stratagem against them.  Stratagem only avails

with men who are alive to suspicion, and expecting to be assailed,

expose themselves by their attempts at defense; but one who has no

thought or expectation of anything, gives as little opportunity to

the enemy, as he who stands stock-still does to a wrestler.  The

Mendesian was not wanting in solicitations of Agesilaus, insomuch

that Nectanabis grew jealous.  But when Agesilaus advised to fight

the enemy at once, saying, it was folly to protract the war and

rely on time, in a contest with men who had no experience in

fighting battles, but with their great numbers might be able to

surround them, and cut off their communications by entrenchments,

and anticipate them in many matters of advantage, this altogether

confirmed him in his fears and suspicions.  He took quite the

contrary course, and retreated into a large and strongly fortified

town.  Agesilaus, finding himself mistrusted, took it very ill, and

was full of indignation, yet was ashamed to change sides back

again, or to go away without effecting anything, so that he was

forced to follow Nectanabis into the town.

When the enemy came up, and began to draw lines about the town, and

to entrench, the Egyptian now resolved upon a battle, out of fear

of a siege.  And the Greeks were eager for it, provisions growing

already scarce in the town.  When Agesilaus opposed it, the

Egyptians then suspected him much more, publicly calling him the

betrayer of the king.  But Agesilaus, being now satisfied within

himself, bore these reproaches patiently, and followed the design

which he had laid, of overreaching the enemy, which was this.

The enemy were forming a deep ditch and high wall, resolving to

shut up the garrison and starve it.  When the ditch was brought

almost quite round, and the two ends had all but met, he took the

advantage of the night, and armed all his Greeks.  Then going to

the Egyptian, "This, young man, is your opportunity," said he, "of

saving yourself, which I all this while durst not announce, lest

discovery should prevent it; but now the enemy has, at his own

cost, and the pains and labor of his own men, provided for our

security.  As much of this wall as is built will prevent them from

surrounding us with their multitude, the gap yet left will be

sufficient for us to sally out by; now play the man, and follow the

example the Greeks will give you, and by fighting valiantly, save

yourself and your army; their front will not be able to stand

against us, and their rear we are sufficiently secured from, by a

wall of their own making."  Nectanabis, admiring the sagacity of

Agesilaus, immediately placed himself in the middle of the Greek

troops, and fought with them; and upon the first charge soon routed

the enemy.  Agesilaus having now gained credit with the king,

proceeded to use, like a trick in wrestling, the same stratagem

over again.  He sometimes pretended a retreat, at other times

advanced to attack their flanks, and by this means at last drew

them into a place enclosed between two ditches that were very deep,

and full of water.  When he had them at this advantage, he soon

charged them, drawing up the front of his battle equal to the space

between the two ditches, so that they had no way of surrounding

him, being enclosed themselves on both sides.  They made but little

resistance; many fell, others fled and were dispersed.

Nectanabis, being thus settled and fixed in his kingdom, with much

kindness and affection invited Agesilaus to spend his winter in

Egypt, but he made haste home to assist in the wars of his own

country, which was he knew in want of money, and forced to hire

mercenaries, whilst their own men were fighting abroad.  The king,

therefore, dismissed him very honorably, and among other gifts

presented him with two hundred and thirty talents of silver toward

the charge of the war.  But the weather being tempestuous, his

ships kept in shore, and passing along the coast of Africa he

reached an uninhabited spot called the Port of Menelaus, and here,

when his ships were just upon landing, he expired, being

eighty-four years old, and having reigned in Lacedaemon forty-one.

Thirty of which years he passed with the reputation of being the

greatest and most powerful man of all Greece, and was looked upon

as, in a manner, general and king of it, until the battle of

Leuctra.  It was the custom of the Spartans to bury their common

dead in the place where they died, whatsoever country it was, but

their kings they carried home.  The followers of Agesilaus, for

want of honey, enclosed his body in wax, and so conveyed him to

Lacedaemon.

His son Archidamus succeeded him on his throne; so did his

posterity successively to Agis, the fifth from Agesilaus; who was

slain by Leonidas, while attempting to restore the ancient

discipline of Sparta.

POMPEY

The people of Rome seem to have entertained for Pompey from his

childhood, the same affection that Prometheus in the tragedy of

Aeschylus expresses for Hercules, speaking of him as the author

of his deliverance, in these words,

Ah cruel Sire!  how dear thy son to me!

The generous offspring of my enemy!

For on the one hand, never did the Romans give such

demonstrations of a vehement and fierce hatred against any of

their generals, as they did against Strabo, the father of

Pompey; during whose lifetime, it is true, they stood in awe of

his military power, as indeed he was a formidable warrior, but

immediately upon his death, which happened by a stroke of

thunder, they treated him with the utmost contumely, dragging

his corpse from the bier, as it was carried to his funeral.  On

the other side, never had any Roman the people's good-will and

devotion more zealous throughout all the changes of fortune,

more early in its first springing up, or more steadily rising

with his prosperity, or more constant in his adversity, than

Pompey had.  In Strabo, there was one great cause of their

hatred, his insatiable covetousness; in Pompey, there were many

that helped to make him the object of their love; his

temperance, his skill, and exercise in war, his eloquence of

speech, integrity of mind and affability in conversation and

address; insomuch that no man ever asked a favor with less

offense, or conferred one with a better grace.  When he gave,

it was without assumption, when he received, it was with

dignity and honor.

In his youth, his countenance pleaded for him, seeming to

anticipate his eloquence, and win upon the affections of the

people before he spoke.  His beauty even in his bloom of youth

had something in it at once of gentleness and dignity; and

when his prime of manhood came, the majesty kingliness of his

character at once became visible in it.  His hair sat somewhat

hollow or rising a little; and this, with the languishing

motion of his eyes, seemed to form a resemblance in his face,

though perhaps more talked of than really apparent, to the

statues of king Alexander.  And because many applied that name

to him in his youth, Pompey himself did not decline it,

insomuch that some called him so in derision.  And Lucius

Philippus, a man of consular dignity, when he was pleading in

favor of him, thought it not unfit to say, that people could

not be surprised if Philip was a lover of Alexander.

It is related of Flora, the courtesan, that when she was now

pretty old; she took great delight in speaking of her early

familiarity with Pompey, and was wont to say, that she could

never part after being with him without a bite.  She would

further tell, that Geminius, a companion of Pompey's, fell in

love with her, and made his court with great importunity; and

on her refusing, and telling him, however her inclinations

were, yet she could not gratify his desires for Pompey's sake,

he therefore made his request to Pompey, and Pompey frankly

gave his consent, but never afterwards would have any converse

with her, notwithstanding, that he seemed to have a great

passion for her; and Flora, on this occasion, showed none of

the levity that might have been expected of her, but languished

for some time after under a sickness brought on by grief and

desire.  This Flora, we are told, was such a celebrated beauty,

that Caecilius Metellus, when he adorned the temple of Castor

and Pollux with paintings and statues, among the rest dedicated

hers for her singular beauty.  In his conduct also to the wife

of Demetrius, his freed servant, (who had great influence with

him in his lifetime, and left an estate of four thousand

talents,) Pompey acted contrary to his usual habits, not quite

fairly or generously, fearing lest he should fall under the

common censure of being enamored and charmed with her beauty,

which was irresistible, and became famous everywhere.

Nevertheless, though he seemed to be so extremely circumspect

and cautious, yet even in matters of this nature, he could not

avoid the calumnies of his enemies, but upon the score of

married women, they accused him, as if he had connived at many

things, and embezzled the public revenue to gratify their

luxury.

Of his easiness of temper and plainness, in what related to

eating and drinking, the story is told, that once in a

sickness, when his stomach nauseated common meats, his

physician prescribed him a thrush to eat; but upon search,

there was none to be bought, for they were not then in season,

and one telling him they were to be had at Lucullus's, who kept

them all the year round, "So then," said he, "if it were not

for Lucullus's luxury, Pompey should not live;" and thereupon

not minding the prescription of the physician, he contented

himself with such meat as could easily be procured.  But this

was at a later time.

Being as yet a very young man, and upon an expedition in which

his father was commanding against Cinna, he had in his tent

with him one Lucius Terentius, as his companion and comrade,

who, being corrupted by Cinna, entered into an engagement to

kill Pompey, as others had done, to set the general's tent on

fire.  This conspiracy being discovered to Pompey at supper, he

showed no discomposure at it, but on the contrary drank more

liberally than usual, and expressed great kindness to

Terentius; but about bedtime, pretending to go to his repose,

he stole away secretly out of the tent, and setting a guard

about his father, quietly expected the event.  Terentius, when

he thought the proper time come, rose with his naked sword, and

coming to Pompey's bedside, stabbed several strokes through the

bedclothes, as if he were lying there.  Immediately after this

there was a great uproar throughout all the camp, arising from

the hatred they bore to the general, and a universal movement

of the soldiers to revolt, all tearing down their tents, and

betaking themselves to their arms.  The general himself all

this while durst not venture out because of the tumult; but

Pompey, going about in the midst of them, besought them with

tears; and at last threw himself prostrate upon his face before

the gate of the camp, and lay there in the passage at their

feet, shedding tears, and bidding those that were marching off,

if they would go, trample upon him.  Upon which, none could

help going back again, and all, except eight hundred, either

through shame or compassion, repented, and were reconciled to

the general.

Immediately upon the death of Strabo, there was an action

commenced against Pompey, as his heir, for that his father had

embezzled the public treasure.  But Pompey, having traced the

principal thefts, charged them upon one Alexander, a freed

slave of his father's, and proved before the judges that he

had been the appropriator.  But he himself was accused of

having in his possession some hunting tackle, and books, that

were taken at Asculum.  To this he confessed thus far, that he

received them from his father when he took Asculum, but pleaded

further, that he had lost them since, upon Cinna's return to

Rome when his home was broken open and plundered by Cinna's

guards.  In this cause he had a great many preparatory

pleadings against his accuser, in which he showed an activity

and steadfastness beyond his years, and gained great reputation

and favor; insomuch that Antistius, the praetor and judge of

the cause, took a great liking to him, and offered him his

daughter in marriage, having had some communications with his

friends about it.  Pompey accepted the proposal, and they were

privately contracted; however, the secret was not so closely

kept as to escape the multitude, but it was discernible enough

from the favor shown him by Antistius in his cause.  And at

last, when Antistius pronounced the absolutory sentence of the

judges, the people, as if it had been upon a signal given, made

the acclamation used according to ancient custom, at marriages,

Talasio.  The origin of which custom is related to be this.  At

the time when the daughters of the Sabines came to Rome, to see

the shows and sports there, and were violently seized upon by

the most distinguished and bravest of the Romans for wives, it

happened that some goatswains and herdsmen of the meaner rank

were carrying off a beautiful and tall maiden; and lest any of

their betters should meet them, and take her away, as they ran,

they cried out with one voice, Talasio, Talasius being a

well-known and popular person among them, insomuch that all

that heard the name, clapped their hands for joy, and joined

with them in the shout, as applauding and congratulating the

chance.  Now, say they, because this proved a fortunate match

to Talasius, hence it is that this acclamation is sportively

used as a nuptial cry at all weddings.  This is the most

credible of the accounts that are given of the Talasio.  And

some few days after this judgment, Pompey married Antistia.

After this he went to Cinna's camp, where finding some false

suggestions and calumnies prevailing against him, he began to

be afraid and presently withdrew himself secretly; which sudden

disappearance occasioned great suspicion.  And there went a

rumor and speech through all the camp, that Cinna had murdered

the young man; upon which all that had been anyways disobliged,

and bore any malice to him, resolved to make an assault upon

him.  He, endeavoring to make his escape, was seized by a

centurion, who pursued him with his naked sword.  Cinna, in

this distress, fell upon his knees, and offered him his

seal-ring, of great value, for his ransom; but the centurion

repulsed him insolently, saying, "I did not come to seal a

covenant, but to be revenged upon a lawless and wicked tyrant;"

and so dispatched him immediately.

Thus Cinna being slain, Carbo, a tyrant yet more senseless than

he, took the command and exercised it, while Sylla meantime was

approaching, much to the joy and satisfaction of most people,

who in their present evils were ready to find some comfort if

it were but in the exchange of a master.  For the city was

brought to that pass by oppression and calamities, that being

utterly in despair of liberty, men were only anxious for the

mildest and most tolerable bondage.  At that time Pompey was in

Picenum in Italy, where he spent some time amusing himself, as

he had estates in the country there, though the chief motive of

his stay was the liking he felt for the towns of that district,

which all regarded him with hereditary feelings of kindness and

attachment.  But when he now saw that the noblest and best of

the city began to forsake their homes and property, and fly

from all quarters to Sylla's camp, as to their haven, he

likewise was desirous to go; not, however, as a fugitive, alone

and with nothing to offer, but as a friend rather than a

suppliant, in a way that would gain him honor, bringing help

along with him, and at the head of a body of troops.

Accordingly he solicited the Picentines for their assistance,

who as cordially embraced his motion, and rejected the

messengers sent from Carbo; insomuch that a certain Vindius

taking upon him to say, that Pompey was come from the

school-room to put himself at the head of the people, they

were so incensed that they fell forthwith upon this Vindius and

killed him.  From henceforward Pompey, finding a spirit of

government upon him, though not above twenty-three years of

age, nor deriving, an authority by commission from any man,

took the privilege to grant himself full power, and causing a

tribunal to be erected in the market-place of Auximum, a

populous city, expelled two of their principal men, brothers,

of the name of Ventidius, who were acting against him in

Carbo's interest, commanding them by a public edict to depart

the city; and then proceeded to levy soldiers, issuing out

commissions to centurions, and other officers, according to the

form of military discipline.  And in this manner he went round

all the rest of the cities in the district.  So that those of

Carbo's faction flying, and all others cheerfully submitting to

his command, in a little time he mustered three entire legions,

having supplied himself beside with all manner of provisions,

beasts of burden, carriages, and other necessaries of war.  And

with this equipage he set forward on his march towards Sylla,

not as if he were in haste, or desirous of escaping

observation, but by small journeys, making several halts upon

the road, to distress and annoy the enemy, and exerting himself

to detach from Carbo's interest every part of Italy that he

passed through.

Three commanders of the enemy encountered him at once, Carinna,

Cloelius, and Brutus, and drew up their forces, not all in the

front, nor yet together on any one part, but encamping three

several armies in a circle about him, they resolved to

encompass and overpower him.  Pompey was no way alarmed at

this, but collecting all his troops into one body, and placing

his horse in the front of the battle, where he himself was in

person, he singled out and bent all his forces against Brutus,

and when the Celtic horsemen from the enemy's side rode out to

meet him, Pompey himself encountering hand to hand with the

foremost and stoutest among them, killed him with his spear.

The rest seeing this turned their backs, and fled, and breaking

the ranks of their own foot, presently caused a general rout;

whereupon the commanders fell out among themselves, and marched

off, some one way, some another, as their fortunes led them,

and the towns round about came in and surrendered themselves to

Pompey, concluding that the enemy was dispersed for fear.  Next

after these, Scipio, the consul, came to attack him, and with

as little success; for before the armies could join, or be

within the throw of their javelins, Scipio's soldiers saluted

Pompey's, and came over to them, while Scipio made his escape

by flight.  Last of all, Carbo himself sent down several troops

of horse against him by the river Arsis, which Pompey assailed

with the same courage and success as before; and having routed

and put them to flight, he forced them in the pursuit into

difficult ground, unpassable for horse, where seeing no hopes

of escape, they yielded themselves with their horses and armor,

all to his mercy.

Sylla was hitherto unacquainted with all these actions; and on

the first intelligence he received of his movements was in

great anxiety about him, fearing lest he should be cut off

among so many and such experienced commanders of the enemy, and

marched therefore with all speed to his aid.  Now Pompey,

having advice of his approach, sent out orders to his officers,

to marshal and draw up all his forces in full array, that they

might make the finest and noblest appearance before the

commander-in-chief; for he expected indeed great honors from

him, but met with even greater.  For as soon as Sylla saw him

thus advancing, his army so well appointed, his men so young

and strong, and their spirits so high and hopeful with their

successes, he alighted from his horse, and being first, as was

his due, saluted by them with the title of Imperator, he

returned the salutation upon Pompey, in the same term and style

of Imperator, which might well cause surprise, as none could

have ever anticipated that he would have imparted, to one so

young in years and not yet a senator, a title which was the

object of contention between him and the Scipios and Marii.

And indeed all the rest of his deportment was agreeable to this

first compliment; whenever Pompey came into his presence, he

paid some sort of respect to him, either in rising and being

uncovered, or the like, which he was rarely seen to do to

anyone else, notwithstanding that there were many about him of

great rank and honor.  Yet Pompey was not puffed up at all, or

exalted with these favors.  And when Sylla would have sent him

with all expedition into Gaul, a province in which it was

thought Metellus who commanded in it had done nothing worthy of

the large forces at his disposal, Pompey urged, that it could

not be fair or honorable for him, to take a province out of the

hands of his senior in command and superior in reputation;

however, if Metellus were willing, and should request his

service, he should be very ready to accompany and assist him in

the war.  Which when Metellus came to understand, he approved

of the proposal, and invited him over by letter.  And on this

Pompey fell immediately into Gaul, where he not only achieved

wonderful exploits of himself, but also fired up and kindled

again that bold and warlike spirit, which old age had in a

manner extinguished in Metellus, into a new heat; just as

molten copper, they say, when poured upon that which is cold

and solid, will dissolve and melt it faster than fire itself.

But as when a famous wrestler has gained the first place among

men, and borne away the prizes at all the games, it is not

usual to take account of his victories as a boy, or to enter

them upon record among the rest; so with the exploits of Pompey

in his youth, though they were extraordinary in themselves, yet

because they were obscured and buried in the multitude and

greatness of his later wars and conquests, I dare not be

particular in them, lest, by trifling away time in the lesser

moments of his youth, we should be driven to omit those greater

actions and fortunes which best illustrate his character.

Now, when Sylla had brought all Italy under his dominion, and

was proclaimed dictator, he began to reward the rest of his

followers, by giving them wealth, appointing them to offices in

the State, and granting them freely and without restriction any

favors they asked for.  But as for Pompey, admiring his valor

and conduct, and thinking that he might prove a great stay and

support to him hereafter in his affairs, he sought means to

attach him to himself by some personal alliance, and his wife

Metella joining in his wishes, they two persuaded Pompey to put

away Antistia, and marry Aemilia, the step-daughter of Sylla,

borne by Metella to Scaurus her former husband, she being at

that very time the wife of another man, living with him, and

with child by him.  These were the very tyrannies of marriage,

and much more agreeable to the times under Sylla, than to the

nature and habits of Pompey; that Aemilia great with child

should be, as it were, ravished from the embraces of another

for him, and that Antistia should be divorced with dishonor and

misery by him, for whose sake she had been but just before

bereft of her father.  For Antistius was murdered in the

senate, because he was suspected to be a favorer of Sylla for

Pompey's sake; and her mother, likewise, after she had seen all

these indignities, made away with herself; a new calamity to be

added to the tragic accompaniments of this marriage, and that

there might be nothing wanting to complete them, Aemilia

herself died, almost immediately after entering Pompey's house,

in childbed.

About this time news came to Sylla, that Perpenna was

fortifying himself in Sicily, that the island was now become a

refuge and receptacle for the relics of the adverse party; that

Carbo was hovering about those seas with a navy, that Domitius

had fallen in upon Africa and that many of the exiled men of

note who had escaped from the proscriptions were daily flocking

into those parts.  Against these, therefore, Pompey was sent

with a large force; and no sooner was he arrived in Sicily but

Perpenna immediately departed, leaving the whole island to him.

Pompey received the distressed cities into favor, and treated

all with great humanity, except the Mamertines in Messena; for

when they protested against his court and jurisdiction,

alleging their privilege and exemption founded upon an ancient

charter or grant of the Romans, he replied sharply, "What!

will you never cease prating of laws to us that have swords by

our sides?"  It was thought, likewise, that he showed some

inhumanity to Carbo, seeming rather to insult over his

misfortunes, than to chastise his crimes.  For if there had

been a necessity, as perhaps there was, that he should be taken

off, that might have been done at first, as soon as he was

taken prisoner, for then it would have been the act of him that

commanded it.  But here Pompey commended a man that had been

thrice consul of Rome, to be brought in fetters to stand at the

bar, he himself sitting upon the bench in judgment, examining

the cause with the formalities of law, to the offense and

indignation of all that were present, and afterwards ordered

him to be taken away and put to death.  It is related, by the

way, of Carbo, that as soon as he was brought to the place, and

saw the sword drawn for execution, he was suddenly seized with

a looseness or pain in his bowels, and desired a little

respite of the executioner, and a convenient place to relieve

himself.  And yet further, Caius Oppius, the friend of Caesar,

tells us, that Pompey dealt cruelly with Quintus Valerius, a

man of singular learning and science.  For when he was brought

to him, he walked aside, and drew him into conversation, and

after putting a variety of questions to him, and receiving

answers from him, he ordered his officers to take him away, and

put him to death.  But we must not be too credulous in the case

of narratives told by Oppius, especially when he undertakes to

relate anything touching the friends or foes of Caesar.  This

is certain, that there lay a necessity upon Pompey to be severe

upon many of Sylla's enemies, those at least that were eminent

persons in themselves, and notoriously known to be taken; but

for the rest, he acted with all the clemency possible for him,

conniving at the concealment of some, and himself being the

instrument in the escape of others.  So in the case of the

Himeraeans; for when Pompey had determined on severely

punishing their city, as they had been abettors of the enemy,

Sthenis, the leader of the people there, craving liberty of

speech, told him, that what he was about to do was not at all

consistent with justice, for that he would pass by the guilty,

and destroy the innocent; and on Pompey demanding, who that

guilty person was that would assume the offenses of them all,

Sthenis replied, it was himself, who had engaged his friends by

persuasion to what they had done, and his enemies by force;

whereupon Pompey being much taken with the frank speech and

noble spirit of the man, first forgave his crime, and then

pardoned all the rest of the Himeraeans.  Hearing, likewise,

that his soldiers were very disorderly their march, doing

violence upon the roads, he ordered their swords to be sealed

up in their scabbards, and whosoever kept them not so, were

severely punished.

Whilst Pompey was thus busy in the affairs and government of

Sicily, he received a decree of the senate, and a commission

from Sylla, commanding him forthwith to sail into Africa, and

make war upon Domitius with all his forces:  for Domitius had

rallied up a far greater army than Marius had had not long

since, when he sailed out of Africa into Italy, and caused a

revolution in Rome, and himself, of a fugitive outlaw, became a

tyrant.  Pompey, therefore, having prepared everything with the

utmost speed, left Memmius, his sister's husband, governor of

Sicily, and set sail with one hundred and twenty galleys, and

eight hundred other vessels laden with provisions, money,

ammunition, and engines of battery.  He arrived with his fleet,

part at the port of Utica, part at Carthage; and no sooner was

he landed, but seven thousand of the enemy revolted and came

over to him, while his own forces that he brought with him

consisted of six entire legions.  Here they tell us of a

pleasant incident that happened to him at his first arrival.

For some of his soldiers having by accident stumbled upon a

treasure, by which they got a good sum of money, the rest of

the army hearing this, began to fancy that the field was full of

gold and silver, which had been hid there of old by the

Carthaginians in the time of their calamities, and thereupon

fell to work, so that the army was useless to Pompey for many

days, being totally engaged in digging for the fancied

treasure, he himself all the while walking up and down only,

and laughing to see so many thousands together, digging and

turning up the earth.  Until at last, growing weary and

hopeless, they came to themselves, and returned to their

general, begging him to lead them where he pleased, for that

they had already received the punishment of their folly.  By

this time Domitius had prepared himself; and drawn out his army

in array against Pompey; but there was a watercourse betwixt

them, craggy, and difficult to pass over; and this, together

with a great storm of wind and rain pouring down even from

break of day, seemed to leave but little possibility of their

coming together, so that Domitius, not expecting any engagement

that day, commanded his forces to draw off and retire to the

camp.  Now Pompey, who was watchful upon every occasion, making

use of the opportunity, ordered a march forthwith, and having

passed over the torrent, fell in immediately upon their

quarters.  The enemy was in a great disorder and tumult, and in

that confusion attempted a resistance; but they neither were

all there, nor supported one another; besides, the wind having

veered about, beat the rain full in their faces.  Neither

indeed was the storm less troublesome to the Romans, for that

they could not clearly discern one another, insomuch that even

Pompey himself, being unknown, escaped narrowly; for when one

of his soldiers demanded of him the word of battle, it happened

that he was somewhat slow in his answer, which might have cost

him his life.

The enemy being routed with a great slaughter, (for it is said,

that of twenty thousand there escaped but three thousand,) the

army saluted Pompey by the name of Imperator; but he declined

it, telling them, that he could not by any means accept of that

title, as long as he saw the camp of the enemy standing; but if

they designed to make him worthy of the honor, they must first

demolish that.  The soldiers on hearing this, went at once and

made an assault upon the works and trenches, and there Pompey

fought without his helmet, in memory of his former danger, and

to avoid the like.  The camp was thus taken by storm, and among

the rest, Domitius was slain.  After that overthrow, the cities

of the country thereabouts were all either secured by

surrender, or taken by storm.  King Iarbas, likewise, a

confederate and auxiliary of Domitius, was taken prisoner, and

his kingdom was given to Hiempsal.

Pompey could not rest here, but being ambitious to follow the

good fortune and use the valor of his army, entered Numidia;

and marching forward many days' journey up into the country, he

conquered all wherever he came.  And having revived the terror

of the Roman power, which was now almost obliterated among the

barbarous nations, he said likewise, that the wild beasts of

Africa ought not to be left without some experience of the

courage and success of the Romans; and therefore he bestowed

some few days in hunting lions and elephants.  And it is said,

that it was not above the space of forty days at the utmost, in

which he gave a total overthrow to the enemy, reduced Africa,

and established the affairs of the kings and kingdoms of all

that country, being then in the twenty-fourth year of his age.

When Pompey returned back to the city of Utica, there were

presented to him letters and orders from Sylla, commanding him

to disband the rest of his army, and himself with one legion

only to wait there the coming of another general, to succeed

him in the government.  This, inwardly, was extremely grievous

to Pompey, though he made no show of it.  But the army resented

it openly, and when Pompey besought them to depart and go home

before him, they began to revile Sylla, and declared broadly,

that they were resolved not to forsake him, neither did they

think it safe for him to trust the tyrant.  Pompey at first

endeavored to appease and pacify them by fair speeches; but

when he saw that his persuasions were vain, he left the bench,

and retired to his tent with tears in his eyes.  But the

soldiers followed him, and seizing upon him, by force brought

him again, and placed him in his tribunal; where great part of

that day was spent in dispute, they on their part persuading

him to stay and command them, he, on the other side, pressing

upon them obedience, and the danger of mutiny.  At last, when

they grew yet more importunate and clamorous, he swore that he

would kill himself if they attempted to force him; and scarcely

even thus appeased them.  Nevertheless, the first tidings

brought to Sylla were, that Pompey was up in rebellion; on

which he remarked to some of his friends, "I see, then, it is

my destiny to contend with children in my old age;" alluding at

the same time to Marius, who, being but a mere youth, had given

him great trouble, and brought him into extreme danger.  But

being undeceived afterwards by better intelligence, and finding

the whole city prepared to meet Pompey, and receive him with

every display of kindness and honor, he resolved to exceed them

all.  And, therefore, going out foremost to meet him, and

embracing him with great cordiality, he gave him his welcome

aloud in the title of Magnus, or the Great, and bade all that

were present call him by that name.  Others say that he had

this title first given him by a general acclamation of all the

army in Africa, but that it was fixed upon him by this

ratification of Sylla.  It is certain that he himself was the

last that owned the title; for it was a long time after, when

he was sent proconsul into Spain against Sertorius, that he

began to write himself in his letters and commissions by the

name of Pompeius Magnus; common and familiar use having then

worn off the invidiousness of the title.  And one cannot but

accord respect and admiration to the ancient Romans, who did

not reward the successes of action and conduct in war alone

with such honorable titles, but adorned likewise the virtues

and services of eminent men in civil government with the same

distinctions and marks of honor.  Two persons received from the

people the name of Maximus, or the Greatest, Valerius, for

reconciling the senate and people, and Fabius Rullus, because

he put out of the senate certain sons of freed slaves who had

been admitted into it because of their wealth.

Pompey now desired the honor of a triumph, which Sylla opposed,

alleging that the law allowed that honor to none but consuls

and praetors, and therefore Scipio the elder, who subdued the

Carthaginians in Spain in far greater and nobler conflicts,

never petitioned for a triumph, because he had never been

consul or praetor; and if Pompey, who had scarcely yet fully

grown a beard, and was not of age to be a senator, should enter

the city in triumph, what a weight of envy would it bring, he

said, at once upon his government and Pompey's honor.  This was

his language to Pompey, intimating that he could not by any

means yield to his request, but if he would persist in his

ambition, that he was resolved to interpose his power to humble

him.  Pompey, however, was not daunted; but bade Sylla

recollect, that more worshiped the rising than the setting sun;

as if to tell him that his power was increasing, and Sylla's in

the wane.  Sylla did not perfectly hear the words, but

observing a sort of amazement and wonder in the looks and

gestures of those that did hear them, he asked what it was that

he said.  When it was told him, he seemed astounded at Pompey's

boldness, and cried out twice together, "Let him triumph," and

when others began to show their disapprobation and offense at

it, Pompey, it is said, to gall and vex them the more, designed

to have his triumphant chariot drawn with four elephants,

(having brought over several which belonged to the African

kings,) but the gates of the city being too narrow, he was

forced to desist from that project, and be content with horses.

And when his soldiers, who had not received as large rewards as

they had expected, began to clamor, and interrupt the triumph,

Pompey regarded these as little as the rest, and plainly told

them that he had rather lose the honor of his triumph, than

flatter them.  Upon which Servilius, a man of great

distinction, and at first one of the chief opposers of Pompey's

triumph, said, he now perceived that Pompey was truly great and

worthy of a triumph.  It is clear that he might easily have

been a senator, also, if he had wished, but he did not sue for

that, being ambitious, it seems, only of unusual honors.  For

what wonder had it been for Pompey, to sit in the senate before

his time?  But to triumph before he was in the senate, was

really an excess of glory.

And moreover, it did not a little ingratiate him with the

people; who were much pleased to see him after his triumph take

his place again among the Roman knights.  On the other side, it

was no less distasteful to Sylla to see how fast he came on,

and to what a height of glory and power he was advancing; yet

being ashamed to hinder him, he kept quiet.  But when, against

his direct wishes, Pompey got Lepidus made consul, having

openly joined in the canvass and, by the good-will the people

felt for himself, conciliated their favor for Lepidus, Sylla

could forbear no longer; but when he saw him coming away from

the election through the forum with a great train after him,

cried out to him, "Well, young man, I see you rejoice in your

victory.  And, indeed, is it not a most generous and worthy

act, that the consulship should be given to Lepidus, the vilest

of men, in preference to Catulus, the best and most deserving

in the city, and all by your influence with the people?  It

will be well, however, for you to be wakeful and look to your

interests; as you have been making your enemy stronger than

yourself."  But that which gave the clearest demonstration of

Sylla's ill-will to Pompey, was his last will and testament;

for whereas he had bequeathed several legacies to all the rest

of his friends, and appointed some of them guardians to his

eon, he passed by Pompey without the least remembrance.

However, Pompey bore this with great moderation and temper; and

when Lepidus and others were disposed to obstruct his interment

in the Campus Martius, and to prevent any public funeral taking

place, came forward in support of it, and saw his obsequies

performed with all honor and security.

Shortly after the death of Sylla, his prophetic words were

fulfilled; and Lepidus proposing to be the successor to all his

power and authority, without any ambiguities or pretences,

immediately appeared in arms, rousing once more and gathering

about him all the long dangerous remains of the old factions,

which had escaped the hand of Sylla.  Catulus, his colleague,

who was followed by the sounder part of the senate and people,

was a man of the greatest esteem among the Romans for wisdom

and justice; but his talent lay in the government of the city

rather than the camp, whereas the exigency required the skill

of Pompey.  Pompey, therefore, was not long in suspense which

way to dispose of himself, but joining with the nobility, was

presently appointed general of the army against Lepidus, who

had already raised up war in great part of Italy, and held

Cisalpine Gaul in subjection with an army under Brutus.  As for

the rest of his garrisons, Pompey subdued them with ease in his

march, but Mutina in Gaul resisted in a formal siege, and he

lay here a long time encamped against Brutus.  In the meantime

Lepidus marched in all haste against Rome, and sitting down

before it with a crowd of followers, to the terror of those

within, demanded a second consulship.  But that fear quickly

vanished upon letters sent from Pompey, announcing that he had

ended the war without a battle; for Brutus, either betraying

his army, or being betrayed by their revolt, surrendered

himself to Pompey, and receiving a guard of horse, was

conducted to a little town upon the river Po; where he was

slain the next day by Geminius, in execution of Pompey's

commands.  And for this Pompey was much censured; for, having

at the beginning of the revolt written to the senate that

Brutus had voluntarily surrendered himself, immediately

afterward he sent other letters, with matter of accusation

against the man, after he was taken off.  Brutus, who with

Cassius slew Caesar, was son to this Brutus; neither in war nor

in his death like his father, as appears at large in his life.

Lepidus upon this being driven out of Italy, fled to Sardinia,

where he fell sick and died of sorrow, not for his public

misfortunes, as they say, but, upon the discovery of a letter,

proving his wife to have been unfaithful to him.

There yet remained Sertorius, a very different general from

Lepidus, in possession of Spain, and making himself formidable

to Rome; the final disease, as it were, in which the scattered

evils of the civil wars had now collected.  He had already cut

off various inferior commanders, and was at this time coping

with Metellus Pius, a man of repute and a good soldier, though

perhaps he might now seem too slow, by reason of his age, to

second and improve the happier moments of war, and might be

sometimes wanting to those advantages which Sertorius by his

quickness and dexterity would wrest out of his hands.  For

Sertorius was always hovering about, and coming upon him

unawares, like a captain of thieves rather than soldiers,

disturbing him perpetually with ambuscades and light

skirmishes; whereas Metellus was accustomed to regular conduct,

and fighting in battle array with full-armed soldiers.  Pompey,

therefore, keeping his army in readiness, made it his object to

be sent in aid to Metellus; neither would he be induced to

disband his forces, notwithstanding that Catulus called upon

him to do so, but by some colorable device or other he still

kept them in arms about the city, until the senate at last

thought fit, upon the report of Lucius Philippus, to decree him

that government.  At that time, they say, one of the senators

there expressing his wonder and demanding of Philippus whether

his meaning was that Pompey should be sent into Spain as

proconsul, "No," replied Philippus, "but as proconsuls," as if

both consuls for that year were in his opinion wholly useless.

When Pompey was arrived in Spain, as is usual upon the fame of

a new leader, men began to be inspired with new hopes, and

those nations that had not entered into a very strict alliance

with Sertorius, began to waver and revolt; whereupon Sertorius

uttered various arrogant and scornful speeches against Pompey,

saying in derision, that he should want no other weapon but a

ferula and rod to chastise this boy with, if he were not afraid

of that old woman, meaning Metellus.  Yet in deed and reality

he stood in awe of Pompey, and kept on his guard against him,

as appeared by his whole management of the war, which he was

observed to conduct much more warily than before; for Metellus,

which one would not have imagined, was grown excessively

luxurious in his habits having given himself over to

self-indulgence and pleasure, and from a moderate and

temperate, became suddenly a sumptuous and ostentatious liver,

so that this very thing gained Pompey great reputation and

goodwill, as he made himself somewhat specially an example of

frugality, although that virtue was habitual in him, and

required no great industry to exercise it, as he was naturally

inclined to temperance, and no ways inordinate in his desires.

The fortune of the war was very various; nothing however

annoyed Pompey so much as the taking of the town of Lauron by

Sertorius.  For when Pompey thought he had him safe inclosed,

and had boasted somewhat largely of raising the siege, he found

himself all of a sudden encompassed; insomuch that he durst not

move out of his camp, but was forced to sit still whilst the

city was taken and burnt before his face.  However, afterwards

in a battle near Valentia, he gave great defeat to Herennius

and Perpenna, two commanders among the refugees who had fled to

Sertorius, and now lieutenants under him, in which he slew

above ten thousand men.

Pompey, being elated and filled with confidence by this

victory, made all haste to engage Sertorius himself, and the

rather lest Metellus should come in for a share in the honor of

the victory.  Late in the day, towards sunset, they joined

battle near the river Sucro, both being in fear lest Metellus

should come; Pompey, that he might engage alone, Sertorius,

that he might have one alone to engage with.  The issue of the

battle proved doubtful, for a wing of each side had the better;

but of the generals, Sertorius had the greater honor, for that

he maintained his post, having put to flight the entire

division that was opposed to him, whereas Pompey was himself

almost made a prisoner; for being set upon by a strong man at

arms that fought on foot, (he being on horseback,) as they were

closely engaged hand to hand, the strokes of their swords

chanced to light upon their hands, but with a different

success; for Pompey's was a slight wound only, whereas he cut

off the other's hand.  However, it happened so, that many now

falling upon Pompey together, and his own forces there being

put to the rout, he made his escape beyond expectation, by

quitting his horse, and turning him out among the enemy.  For

the horse being richly adorned with golden trappings, and

having a caparison of great value, the soldiers quarreled among

themselves for the booty, so that while they were fighting with

one another, and dividing the spoil, Pompey made his escape.

By break of day the next morning, each drew out his forces into

the field to claim the victory; but Metellus coming up,

Sertorius vanished, having broken up and dispersed his army.

For this was the way in which he used to raise and disband his

armies, so that sometimes he would be wandering up and down all

alone, and at other times again he would come pouring into the

field at the head of no less than one hundred and fifty

thousand fighting-men, swelling of a sudden like a winter

torrent.

When Pompey was going after the battle to meet and welcome

Metellus, and when they were near one another, he commanded his

attendants to lower their rods in honor of Metellus, as his

senior and superior.  But Metellus on the other side forbade

it, and behaved himself in general very obligingly to him, not

claiming any prerogative either in respect of his consular rank

or seniority; excepting only that when they encamped together,

the watchword was given to the whole camp by Metellus.  But

generally they had their camps asunder, being divided and

distracted by the enemy, who took all shapes, and being always

in motion, would by some skillful artifice appear in a variety

of places almost in the same instant, drawing them from one

attack to another, and at last keeping them from foraging,

wasting the country, and holding the dominion of the sea,

Sertorius drove them both out of that part of Spain which was

under his control, and forced them for want of necessaries to

retreat into provinces that did not belong to them.

Pompey, having made use of and expended the greatest part of

his own private revenues upon the war, sent and demanded moneys

of the senate, adding, that in case they did not furnish him

speedily, he should be forced to return into Italy with his

army.  Lucullus being consul at that time, though at variance

with Pompey, yet in consideration that he himself was a

candidate for the command against Mithridates, procured and

hastened these supplies, fearing lest there should be any

presence or occasion given to Pompey of returning home, who of

himself was no less desirous of leaving Sertorius, and of

undertaking the war against Mithridates, as an enterprise which

by all appearance would prove much more honorable and not so

dangerous.  In the meantime Sertorius died, being

treacherously murdered by some of his own party; and Perpenna,

the chief among them, took the command, and attempted to carry

on the same enterprises with Sertorius, having indeed the same

forces and the same means, only wanting the same skill and

conduct in the use of them.  Pompey therefore marched directly

against, Perpenna, and finding him acting merely at random in

his affairs, had a decoy ready for him, and sent out a

detachment of ten cohorts into the level country with orders to

range up and down and disperse themselves abroad.  The bait

took accordingly, and no sooner had Perpenna turned upon the

prey and had them in chase, but Pompey appeared suddenly with

all his army and joining battle, gave him a total overthrow.

Most of his officers were slain in the field, and he himself

being brought prisoner to Pompey, was by his order put to

death.  Neither was Pompey guilty in this of ingratitude or

unmindfulness of what had occurred in Sicily, which some have

laid to his charge, but was guided by a high minded policy and

a deliberate counsel for the security of his country.  For

Perpenna, having in his custody all Sertorius's papers, offered

to produce several letters from the greatest men in Rome, who,

desirous of a change and subversion of the government, had

invited Sertorius into Italy.  And Pompey, fearing that these

might be the occasion of worse wars than those which were now

ended, thought it advisable to put Perpenna to death, and burnt

the letters without reading them.

Pompey continued in Spain after this so long a time as was

necessary for the suppression of all the greatest disorders in

the province; and after moderating and allaying the more

violent heats of affairs there, returned with his army into

Italy, where he arrived, as chance would have it, in the height

of the servile war.  Accordingly, upon his arrival, Crassus,

the commander in that war, at some hazard precipitated a

battle, in which he had great success, and slew upon the place

twelve thousand three hundred of the insurgents.  Nor yet was

he so quick, but that fortune reserved to Pompey some share of

honor in the success of this war, for five thousand of those

that had escaped out of the battle fell into his hands; and

when he had totally cut them off, he wrote to the senate, that

Crassus had overthrown the slaves in battle, but that he had

plucked up the whole war by the roots.  And it was agreeable to

the people in Rome both thus to say, and thus to hear said,

because of the general favor of Pompey.  But of the Spanish war

and the conquest of Sertorius, no one, even in jest, could have

ascribed the honor to anyone else.  Nevertheless, all this

high respect for him, and this desire to see him come home,

were not unmixed with apprehensions and suspicions that he

might perhaps not disband his army, but take his way by the

force of arms and a supreme command to the seat of Sylla.  And

so in the number of all those that ran out to meet him and

congratulate his return, as many went out of fear as affection.

But after Pompey had removed this alarm, by declaring

beforehand that he would discharge the army after his triumph,

those that envied him could now only complain that he affected

popularity, courting the common people more than the nobility,

and that whereas Sylla had abolished the tribuneship of the

people, he designed to gratify the people by restoring that

office, which was indeed the fact.  For there was not any one

thing that the people of Rome were more wildly eager for, or

more passionately desired, than the restoration of that office,

insomuch that Pompey thought himself extremely fortunate in

this opportunity, despairing (if he were anticipated by

someone else in this) of ever meeting with any other sufficient

means of expressing his gratitude for the favors which he had

received from the people.

Though a second triumph was decreed him, and he was declared

consul, yet all these honors did not seem so great an evidence

of his power and glory, as the ascendant which he had over

Crassus; for he, the wealthiest among all the statesmen of his

time, and the most eloquent and greatest too, who had looked

down on Pompey himself, and on all others as beneath him, durst

not appear a candidate for the consulship before he had applied

to Pompey.  The request was made accordingly, and was eagerly

embraced by Pompey, who had long sought an occasion to oblige

him in some friendly office; so that he solicited for Crassus,

and entreated the people heartily, declaring, that their favor

would be no less to him in choosing Crassus his colleague, than

in making himself consul.  Yet for all this, when they were

created consuls, they were always at variance, and opposing one

another.  Crassus prevailed most in the senate, and Pompey's

power was no less with the people, he having restored to them

the office of tribune, and having allowed the courts of

judicature to be transferred back to the knights by a new law.

He himself in person, too, afforded them a most grateful

spectacle, when he appeared and craved his discharge from the

military service.  For it is an ancient custom among the

Romans, that the knights, when they had served out their legal

time in the wars, should lead their horses into the

market-place before the two officers, called censors, and

having given an account of the commanders and generals under

whom they served, as also of the places and actions of their

service, should be discharged, every man with honor or

disgrace, according to his deserts.  There were then sitting in

state upon the bench two censors, Gellius and Lentulus,

inspecting the knights, who were passing by in muster before

them, when Pompey was seen coming down into the forum, with all

the ensigns of a consul, but leading his horse in his hand.

When he came up, he bade his lictors make way for him, and so

he led his horse to the bench; the people being all this while

in a sort of amaze, and all in silence, and the censors

themselves regarding the sight with a mixture of respect and

gratification.  Then the senior censor examined him:  "Pompeius

Magnus, I demand of you whether you have served the full time

in the wars that is prescribed by the law?"  "Yes," replied

Pompey with a loud voice, "I have served all, and all under

myself as general."  The people hearing this gave a great

shout, and made such an outcry for delight, that there was no

appeasing it; and the censors rising from their judgment-seat,

accompanied him home to gratify the multitude, who followed

after, clapping their hands and shouting.

Pompey's consulship was now expiring, and yet his difference

with Crassus increasing, when one Caius Aurelius, a knight, a

man who had declined public business all his lifetime, mounted

the hustings, and addressed himself in an oration to the

assembly, declaring that Jupiter had appeared to him in a

dream, commanding him to tell the consuls, that they should not

give up office until they were friends.  After this was said,

Pompey stood silent, but Crassus took him by the hand, and

spoke in this manner:  "I do not think, fellow-citizens, that I

shall do anything mean or dishonorable, in yielding first to

Pompey, whom you were pleased to ennoble with the title of

Great, when as yet he scarce had a hair on his face; and

granted the honor of two triumphs, before he had a place in the

senate."  Hereupon they were reconciled and laid down their

office.  Crassus resumed the manner of life which he had always

pursued before; but Pompey in the great generality of causes

for judgment declined appearing on either side, and by degrees

withdrew himself totally from the forum, showing himself but

seldom in public; and whenever he did, it was with a great

train after him.  Neither was it easy to meet or visit him

without a crowd of people about him; he was most pleased to

make his appearance before large numbers at once, as though he

wished to maintain in this way his state and majesty, and as if

he held himself bound to preserve his dignity from contact with

the addresses and conversation of common people.  And life in

the robe of peace is only too apt to lower the reputation of

men that have grown great by arms, who naturally find

difficulty in adapting themselves to the habits of civil

equality.  They expect to be treated as the first in the city,

even as they were in the camp; and on the other hand, men who

in war were nobody, think it intolerable if in the city at any

rate they are not to take the lead.  And so, when a warrior

renowned for victories and triumphs shall turn advocate and

appear among them in the forum, they endeavor their utmost to

obscure and depress him; whereas, if he gives up any

pretensions here and retires, they will maintain his military

honor and authority beyond the reach of envy.  Events

themselves not long after showed the truth of this.

The power of the pirates first commenced in Cilicia, having in

truth but a precarious and obscure beginning, but gained life

and boldness afterwards in the wars of Mithridates, where they

hired themselves out, and took employment in the king's

service.  Afterwards, whilst the Romans were embroiled in their

civil wars, being engaged against one another even before the

very gates of Rome, the seas lay waste and unguarded, and by

degrees enticed and drew them on not only to seize upon and

spoil the merchants and ships upon the seas, but also to lay

waste the islands and seaport towns.  So that now there

embarked with these pirates men of wealth and noble birth and

superior abilities, as if it had been a natural occupation to

gain distinction in.  They had divers arsenals, or piratic

harbors, as likewise watch towers and beacons, all along the

sea-coast; and fleets were here received that were well manned

with the finest mariners, and well served with the expertest

pilots, and composed of swift sailing and light-built vessels

adapted for their special purpose.  Nor was it merely their

being thus formidable that excited indignation; they were even

more odious for their ostentation than they were feared for

their force.  Their ships had gilded masts at their stems; the

sails woven of purple, and the oars plated with silver, as if

their delight were to glory in their iniquity.  There was

nothing but music and dancing, banqueting and revels, all along

the shore.  Officers in command were taken prisoners, and

cities put under contribution, to the reproach and dishonor of

the Roman supremacy.  There were of these corsairs above one

thousand sail, and they had taken no less than four hundred

cities, committing sacrilege upon the temples of the gods, and

enriching themselves with the spoils of many never violated

before, such as were those of Claros, Didyma, and Samothrace;

and the temple of the Earth in Hermione, and that of

Aesculapius in Epidaurus, those of Neptune at the Isthmus, at

Taenarus, and at Calauria; those of Apollo at Actium and

Leucas, and those of Juno, in Samos, at Argos, and at Lacinium.

They themselves offered strange sacrifices upon Mount Olympus,

and performed certain secret rites or religious mysteries,

among which those of Mithras have been preserved to our own

time, having received their previous institution from them.

But besides these insolencies by sea, they were also injurious

to the Romans by land; for they would often go inland up the

roads, plundering and destroying their villages and

country-houses.  And once they seized upon two Roman praetors,

Sextilius and Bellinus, in their purple-edged robes, and

carried them off together with their officers and lictors.  The

daughter also of Antonius, a man that had had the honor of a

triumph, taking a journey into the country, was seized, and

redeemed upon payment of a large ransom.  But it was most

abusive of all, that when any of the captives declared himself

to be a Roman and told his name, they affected to be surprised,

and feigning fear, smote their thighs and fell down at his

feet, humbly beseeching him to be gracious and forgive them.

The captive seeing them so humble and suppliant, believed them

to be in earnest; and some of them now would proceed to put

Roman shoes on his feet, and to dress him in a Roman gown, to

prevent, they said, his being mistaken another time.  After all

this pageantry, when they had thus deluded and mocked him long

enough, at last putting out a ship's ladder, when they were in

the midst of the sea, they told him he was free to go, and

wished him a pleasant journey; and if he resisted, they

themselves threw him overboard, and drowned him.

This piratic power having got the dominion and control of all

the Mediterranean, there was left no place for navigation or

commerce.  And this it was which most of all made the Romans,

finding themselves to be extremely straitened in their markets,

and considering that if it should continue, there would be a

dearth and famine in the land, determine at last to send out

Pompey to recover the seas from the pirates.  Gabinius, one of

Pompey's friends, preferred a law, whereby there was granted to

him, not only the government of the seas as admiral, but in

direct words, sole and irresponsible sovereignty over all men.

For the decree gave him absolute power and authority in all the

seas within the pillars of Hercules, and in the adjacent

mainland for the space of four hundred furlongs from the sea.

Now there were but few regions in the Roman empire out of that

compass; and the greatest of the nations and most powerful of

the kings were included in the limit.  Moreover by this decree

he had a power of selecting fifteen lieutenants out of the

senate, and of assigning to each his province in charge; then

he might take likewise out of the treasury and out of the hands

of the revenue-farmers what moneys he pleased; as also two

hundred sail of ships, with a power to press and levy what

soldiers and seamen he thought fit.  When this law was read,

the common people approved of it exceedingly, but the chief men

and most important among the senators looked upon it as an

exorbitant power, even beyond the reach of envy, but well

deserving their fears.  Therefore concluding with themselves

that such unlimited authority was dangerous, they agreed

unanimously to oppose the bill, and all went against it, except

Caesar, who gave his vote for the law, not to gratify Pompey,

but the people, whose favor he had courted underhand from the

beginning, and hoped to compass for himself.  The rest

inveighed bitterly against Pompey, insomuch that one of the

consuls told him, that if he was ambitious of the place of

Romulus, he would scarce avoid his end, but he was in danger of

being torn in pieces by the multitude for his speech.  Yet when

Catulus stood up to speak against the law, the people in

reverence to him were silent and attentive.  And when, after

saying much in the most honorable terms in favor of Pompey, he

proceeded to advise the people in kindness to spare him, and

not to expose a man of his value to such a succession of

dangers and wars, "For," said he, "where could you find another

Pompey, or whom would you have in case you should chance to

lose him?"  they all cried out with one voice, "Yourself."  And

so Catulus, finding all his rhetoric ineffectual, desisted.

Then Roscius attempted to speak, but could obtain no hearing,

and made signs with his fingers, intimating, "Not him alone,"

but that there might be a second Pompey or colleague in

authority with him.  Upon this, it is said, the multitude being

extremely incensed, made such a loud outcry, that a crow flying

over the market-place at that instant was struck, and drops

down among the crowd; whence it would appear that the cause of

birds falling down to the ground, is not any rupture or

division of the air causing a vacuum, but purely the actual

stroke of the voice, which when carried up in a great mass and

with violence, raises a sort of tempest and billow, as it were,

in the air.

The assembly broke up for that day; and when the day was come,

on which the bill was to pass by suffrage into a decree, Pompey

went privately into the country; but hearing that it was passed

and confirmed, he resumed again into the city by night, to

avoid the envy that might be occasioned by the concourse of

people that would meet and congratulate him.  The next morning

he came abroad and sacrificed to the gods, and having audience

at an open assembly, so handled the matter that they enlarged

his power, giving him many things besides what was already

granted, and almost doubling the preparation appointed in the

former decree.  Five hundred ships were manned for him, and an

army raised of one hundred and twenty thousand foot, and five

thousand horse.  Twenty-four senators that had been generals of

armies were appointed to serve as lieutenants under him, and to

these were added two quaestors.  Now it happened within this

time that the prices of provisions were much reduced, which

gave an occasion to the joyful people of saying, that the very

name of Pompey had ended the war.  However, Pompey in pursuance

of his charge divided all the seas, and the whole Mediterranean

into thirteen parts, allotting a squadron to each, under the

command of his officers; and having thus dispersed his power

into all quarters, and encompassed the pirates everywhere, they

began to fall into his hands by whole shoals, which he seized

and brought into his harbors.  As for those that withdrew

themselves betimes, or otherwise escaped his general chase,

they all made to Cilicia, where they hid themselves as in their

hive; against whom Pompey now proceeded in person with sixty of

his best ships, not however until he had first scoured and

cleared all the seas near Rome, the Tyrrhenian, and the

African, and all the waters of Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicily;

all which he performed in the space of forty days, by his own

indefatigable industry and the zeal of his lieutenants.

Pompey met with some interruption in Rome, through the malice

and envy of Piso, the consul, who had given some check to his

proceedings, by withholding his stores and discharging his

seamen; whereupon he sent his fleet round to Brundusium,

himself going the nearest way by land through Tuscany to Rome;

which was no sooner known by the people, than they all flocked

out to meet him upon the way, as if they had not sent him out

but few days before.  What chiefly excited their joy, was the

unexpectedly rapid change in the markets, which abounded now

with the greatest plenty, so that Piso was in great danger to

have been deprived of his consulship, Gabinius having a law

ready prepared for that purpose; but Pompey forbade it,

behaving himself as in that, so in all things else, with great

moderation, and when he had made sure of all that he wanted or

desired, he departed for Brundusium, whence he set sail in

pursuit of the pirates.  And though he was straitened in time,

and his hasty voyage forced him to sail by several cities

without touching, yet he would not pass by the city of Athens

unsaluted; but landing there, after he had sacrificed to the

gods, and made an address to the people, as he was returning

out of the city, he read at the gates two epigrams, each in a

single line, written in his own praise; one within the gate: —

Thy humbler thoughts make thee a god the more;

the other without: —

Adieu we bid, who welcome bade before.

Now because Pompey had shown himself merciful to some of these

pirates that were yet roving in bodies about the seas, having

upon their supplication ordered a seizure of their ships and

persons only, without any further process or severity,

therefore the rest of their comrades in hopes of mercy too,

made their escape from his other commanders, and surrendered

themselves with their wives and children into his protection.

He continued to pardon all that came in, and the rather because

by them he might make discovery of those who fled from his

justice, as conscious that their crimes were beyond an act of

indemnity.  The most numerous and important part of these

conveyed their families and treasures, with all their people

that were unfit for war, into castles and strong forts about

Mount Taurus; but they themselves having well manned their

galleys, embarked for Coracesium in Cilicia, where they

received Pompey and gave him battle.  Here they had a final

overthrow, and retired to the land, where they were besieged.

At last, having dispatched their heralds to him with a

submission, they delivered up to his mercy themselves, their

towns, islands, and strong-holds, all which they had so

fortified that they were almost impregnable, and scarcely even

accessible.

Thus was this war ended, and the whole power of the pirates at

sea dissolved everywhere in the space of three months, wherein,

besides a great number of other vessels, he took ninety

men-of-war with brazen beaks; and likewise prisoners of war to

the number of no less than twenty thousand.

As regarded the disposal of these prisoners, he never so much

as entertained the thought of putting them to death; and yet it

might be no less dangerous on the other hand to disperse them,

as they might reunite and make head again, being numerous,

poor, and warlike.  Therefore wisely weighing with himself,

that man by nature is not a wild or unsocial creature, neither

was he born so, but makes himself what he naturally is not, by

vicious habit; and that again on the other side, he is

civilized and grows gentle by a change of place, occupation,

and manner of life, as beasts themselves that are wild by

nature, become tame and tractable by housing and gentler usage,

upon this consideration he determined to translate these

pirates from sea to land, and give them a taste of an honest

and innocent course of life, by living in towns, and tilling

the ground.  Some therefore were admitted into the small and

half-peopled towns of the Cilicians, who for an enlargement of

their territories, were willing to receive them.  Others he

planted in the city of the Solians, which had been lately laid

waste by Tigranes, king of Armenia, and which he now restored.

But the largest number were settled in Dyme, the town of

Achaea, at that time extremely depopulated, and possessing an

abundance of good land.

However, these proceedings could not escape the envy and

censure of his enemies; and the course he took against Metellus

in Crete was disapproved of even by the chiefest of his

friends.  For Metellus, a relation of Pompey's former colleague

in Spain, had been sent praetor into Crete, before this

province of the seas was assigned to Pompey.  Now Crete was the

second source of pirates next to Cilicia, and Metellus having

shut up a number of them in their strong-holds there, was

engaged in reducing and extirpating them.  Those that were yet

remaining and besieged sent their supplications to Pompey, and

invited him into the island as a part of his province, alleging

it to fall, every part of it, within the distance from the sea

specified in his commission, and so within the precincts of his

charge.  Pompey receiving the submission, sent letters to

Metellus, commanding him to leave off the war; and others in

like manner to the cities, in which he charged them not to

yield any obedience to the commands of Metellus.  And after

these, he sent Lucius Octavius, one of his lieutenants, to act

as general, who entering the besieged fortifications, and

fighting in defense of the pirates, rendered Pompey not odious

only, but even ridiculous too; that he should lend his name as

a guard to a nest of thieves, that knew neither god nor law,

and make his reputation serve as a sanctuary to them, only out

of pure envy and emulation to Metellus.  For neither was

Achilles thought to act the part of a man, but rather of a mere

boy, mad after glory, when by signs he forbade the rest of the

Greeks to strike at Hector:  —

"for fear

Some other hand should give the blow, and he

Lose the first honor of the victory."

Whereas Pompey even sought to preserve the common enemies of

the world, only that he might deprive a Roman praetor, after

all his labors, of the honor of a triumph.  Metellus however

was not daunted, but prosecuted the war against the pirates,

expelled them from their strongholds and punished them; and

dismissed Octavius with the insults and reproaches of the whole

camp.

When the news came to Rome that the war with the pirates was at

an end, and that Pompey was unoccupied, diverting himself in

visits to the cities for want of employment, one Manlius, a

tribune of the people, preferred a law that Pompey should have

all the forces of Lucullus, and the provinces under his

government, together with Bithynia, which was under the command

of Glabrio; and that he should forthwith conduct the war

against the two kings, Mithridates and Tigranes, retaining

still the same naval forces and the sovereignty of the seas as

before.  But this was nothing less than to constitute one

absolute monarch of all the Roman empire.  For the provinces

which seemed to be exempt from his commission by the former

decree, such as were Phrygia, Lycaonia, Galatia, Cappadocia,

Cilicia, the upper Colchis, and Armenia, were all added in by

this latter law, together with all the troops and forces with

which Lucullus had defeated Mithridates and Tigranes.  And

though Lucullus was thus simply robbed of the glory of his

achievements in having a successor assigned him, rather to the

honor of his triumph, than the danger of the war; yet this was

of less moment in the eyes of the aristocratical party, though

they could not but admit the injustice and ingratitude to

Lucullus.  But their great grievance was, that the power of

Pompey should be converted into a manifest tyranny; and they

therefore exhorted and encouraged one another privately to bend

all their forces in opposition to this law, and not tamely to

cast away their liberty; yet when the day came on which it was

to pass into a decree, their hearts failed them for fear of the

people, and all were silent except Catulus, who boldly

inveighed against the law and its proposer, and when he found

that he could do nothing with the people, turned to the senate,

crying out and bidding them seek out some mountain as their

forefathers had done, and fly to the rocks where they might

preserve their liberty.  The law passed into a decree, as it is

said, by the suffrages of all the tribes.  And Pompey in his

absence was made lord of almost all that power, which Sylla

only obtained by force of arms, after a conquest of the very

city itself.  When Pompey had advice by letters of the decree,

it is said that in the presence of his friends, who came to

give him joy of his honor, he seemed displeased, frowning and

smiting his thigh, and exclaimed as one overburdened, and weary

of government, "Alas, what a series of labors upon labors!  If

I am never to end my service as a soldier, nor to escape from

this invidious greatness, and live at home in the country with

my wife, I had better have been an unknown man."  But all this

was looked upon as mere trifling, neither indeed could the best

of his friends call it anything else, well knowing that his

enmity with Lucullus, setting a flame just now to his natural

passion for glory and empire, made him feel more than usually

gratified.

As indeed appeared not long afterwards by his actions, which

clearly unmasked him; for in the first place, he sent out his

proclamations into all quarters, commanding the soldiers to

join him, and summoned all the tributary kings and princes

within his charge; and in short, as soon as he had entered upon

his province, he left nothing unaltered that had been done and

established by Lucullus.  To some he remitted their penalties,

and deprived others of their rewards, and acted in all respects

as if with the express design that the admirers of Lucullus

might know that all his authority was at an end.  Lucullus

expostulated by friends, and it was thought fitting that there

should be a meeting betwixt them; and accordingly they met in

the country of Galatia.  As they were both great and successful

generals, their officers bore their rods before them all

wreathed with branches of laurel; Lucullus came through a

country full of green trees and shady woods, but Pompey's march

was through a cold and barren district.  Therefore the lictors

of Lucullus, perceiving that Pompey's laurels were withered and

dry, helped him to some of their own, and adorned and crowned

his rods with fresh laurels.  This was thought ominous, and

looked as if Pompey came to take away the reward and honor of

Lucullus's victories.  Lucullus had the priority in the order

of consulships, and also in age; but Pompey's two triumphs made

him the greater man.  Their first addresses in this interview

were dignified and friendly, each magnifying the other's

actions, and offering congratulations upon his success.  But

when they came to the matter of their conference or treaty,

they could agree on no fair or equitable terms of any kind, but

even came to harsh words against each other, Pompey upbraiding

Lucullus with avarice, and Lucullus retorting ambition upon

Pompey, so that their friends could hardly part them.

Lucullus, remaining in Galatia, made a distribution of the

lands within his conquests, and gave presents to whom he

pleased; and Pompey encamping not far distant from him, sent

out his prohibitions, forbidding the execution of any of the

orders of Lucullus, and commanded away all his soldiers, except

sixteen hundred, whom he thought likely to be unserviceable to

himself, being disorderly and mutinous, and whom he knew to be

hostile to Lucullus; and to these acts he added satirical

speeches, detracting openly from the glory of his actions, and

giving out, that the battles of Lucullus had been but with the

mere stage-shows and idle pictures of royal pomp, whereas the

real war against a genuine army, disciplined by defeat, was

reserved to him, Mithridates having now begun to be in earnest,

and having betaken himself to his shields, swords, and horses.

Lucullus, on the other side, to be even with him, replied, that

Pompey came to fight with the mere image and shadow of war, it

being his usual practice, like a lazy bird of prey, to come

upon the carcass, when others had slain the dead, and to tear

in pieces the relics of a war.  Thus he had appropriated to

himself the victories over Sertorius, over Lepidus, and over

the insurgents under Spartacus; whereas this last had been

achieved by Crassus, that obtained by Catulus, and the first

won by Metellus.  And therefore it was no great wonder, that

the glory of the Pontic and Armenian war should be usurped by a

man who had condescended to any artifices to work himself into

the honor of a triumph over a few runaway slaves.

After this Lucullus went away, and Pompey having placed his

whole navy in guard upon the seas betwixt Phoenicia and

Bosporus, himself marched against Mithridates, who had a

phalanx of thirty thousand foot, with two thousand horse, yet

durst not bid him battle.  He had encamped upon a strong

mountain where it would have been hard to attack him, but

abandoned it in no long time, as destitute of water.  No sooner

was he gone but Pompey occupied it, and observing the plants

that were thriving there, together with the hollows which he

found in several places, conjectured that such a plot could not

be without springs, and therefore ordered his men to sink wells

in every corner.  After which there was, in a little time,

great plenty of water throughout all the camp, insomuch that he

wondered how it was possible for Mithridates to be ignorant of

this, during all that time of his encampment there.  After this

Pompey followed him to his next camp, and there drawing lines

round about him, shut him in.  But he, after having endured a

siege of forty-five days, made his escape secretly, and fled

away with all the best part of his army, having first put to

death all the sick and unserviceable.  Not long after Pompey

overtook him again near the banks of the river Euphrates, and

encamped close by him; but fearing lest he should pass over the

river and give him the slip there too, he drew up his army to

attack him at midnight.  And at that very time Mithridates, it

is said, saw a vision in his dream foreshowing what should come

to pass.  For he seemed to be under sail in the Euxine Sea with

a prosperous gale, and just in view of Bosporus, discoursing

pleasantly with the ship's company, as one overjoyed for his

past danger and present security, when on a sudden he found

himself deserted of all, and floating upon a broken plank of

the ship at the mercy of the sea.  Whilst he was thus laboring

under these passions and phantasms, his friends came and awaked

him with the news of Pompey's approach; who was now indeed so

near at hand, that the fight must be for the camp itself, and

the commanders accordingly drew up the forces in battle array.

Pompey perceiving how ready they were and well prepared for

defense, began to doubt with himself whether he should put it

to the hazard of a fight in the dark, judging it more prudent

to encompass them only at present, lest they should fly, and to

give them battle with the advantage of numbers the next day.

But his oldest officers were of another opinion, and by

entreaties and encouragements obtained permission that they

might charge them immediately.  Neither was the night so very

dark, but that, though the moon was going down, it yet gave

light enough to discern a body.  And indeed this was one

especial disadvantage to the king's army.  For the Romans

coming upon them with the moon on their backs, the moon, being

very low, and just upon setting, cast the shadows a long way

before their bodies, reaching almost to the enemy, whose eyes

were thus so much deceived that not exactly discerning the

distance, but imagining them to be near at hand, they threw

their darts at the shadows, without the least execution.  The

Romans therefore perceiving this, ran in upon them with a great

shout; but the barbarians, all in a panic, unable to endure the

charge, turned and fled, and were put to great slaughter, above

ten thousand being slain; the camp also was taken.  As for

Mithridates himself, he at the beginning of the onset, with a

body of eight hundred horse charged through the Roman army, and

made his escape.  But before long all the rest dispersed, some

one way, some another, and he was left only with three persons,

among whom was his concubine, Hypsicratia, a girl always of a

manly and daring spirit, and the king called her on that

account Hypsicrates.  She being attired and mounted like a

Persian horseman, accompanied the king in all his flight, never

weary even in the longest journey, nor ever failing to attend

the king in person, and look after his horse too, until they

came to Inora, a castle of the king's, well stored with gold

and treasure.  From thence Mithridates took his richest

apparel, and gave it among those that had resorted to him in

their flight; and to every one of his friends he gave a deadly

poison, that they might not fall into the power of the enemy

against their wills.  From thence he designed to have gone to

Tigranes in Armenia, but being prohibited by Tigranes, who put

out a proclamation with a reward of one hundred talents to any

one that should apprehend him, he passed by the head-waters of

the river Euphrates, and fled through the country of Colchis.

Pompey in the meantime made an invasion into Armenia, upon the

invitation of young Tigranes, who was now in rebellion against

his father, and gave Pompey a meeting about the river Araxes,

which rises near the head of Euphrates, but turning its course

and bending towards the east, falls into the Caspian Sea.  They

two, therefore, marched together through the country, taking in

all the cities by the way, and receiving their submission.  But

king Tigranes, having lately suffered much in the war with

Lucullus, and understanding that Pompey was of a kind and

gentle disposition, admitted Roman troops into his royal

palaces, and taking along with him his friends and relations,

went in person to surrender himself into the hands of Pompey.

He came as far as the trenches on horseback, but there he was

met by two of Pompey's lictors, who commanded him to alight and

walk on foot, for no man ever was seen on horseback within a

Roman camp.  Tigranes submitted to this immediately, and not

only so, but loosing his sword, delivered up that too; and last

of all, as soon as he appeared before Pompey, he pulled off his

royal turban, and attempted to have laid it at his feet.  Nay,

worst of all, even he himself had fallen prostrate as an humble

suppliant at his knees, had not Pompey prevented it, taking him

by the hand and placing him near him, Tigranes himself on one

side of him and his son upon the other.  Pompey now told him

that the rest of his losses were chargeable upon Lucullus, by

whom he had been dispossessed of Syria, Phoenicia, Cilicia,

Galatia, and Sophene; but all that he had preserved to himself

entire till that time he should peaceably enjoy, paying the sum

of six thousand talents as a fine or penalty for injuries done

to the Romans, and that his son should have the kingdom of

Sophene.  Tigranes himself was well pleased with these

conditions of peace, and when the Romans saluted him king,

seemed to be overjoyed, and promised to every common soldier

half a mina of silver, to every centurion ten minas, and to

every tribune a talent; but the son was displeased, insomuch

that when he was invited to supper, he replied, that he did not

stand in need of Pompey for that sort of honor, for he would

find out some other Roman to sup with.  Upon this he was put

into close arrest, and reserved for the triumph.

Not long after this Phraates, king of Parthia, sent to Pompey,

and demanded to have young Tigranes, as his son-in-law, given

up to him, and that the river Euphrates should be the boundary

of the empires.  Pompey replied, that for Tigranes, he belonged

more to his own natural father than his father-in-law, and for

the boundaries, he would take care that they should be

according to right and justice.

So Pompey, leaving Armenia in the custody of Afranius, went

himself in chase of Mithridates; to do which he was forced of

necessity to march through several nations inhabiting about

Mount Caucasus.  Of these the Albanians and Iberians were the

two chiefest.  The Iberians stretch out as far as the Moschian

mountains and the Pontus; the Albanians lie more eastwardly,

and towards the Caspian Sea.  These Albanians at first

permitted Pompey, upon his request, to pass through the

country; but when winter had stolen upon the Romans whilst they

were still in the country, and they were busy celebrating the

festival of Saturn, they mustered a body of no less than forty

thousand fighting men, and set upon them, having passed over

the river Cyrnus, which rising from the mountains of Iberia,

and receiving the river Araxes in its course from Armenia,

discharges itself by twelve mouths into the Caspian.  Or,

according to others, the Araxes does not fall into it, but they

flow near one another, and so discharge themselves as neighbors

into the same sea.  It was in the power of Pompey to have

obstructed the enemy's passage over the river, but he suffered

them to pass over quietly; and then leading on his forces and

giving battle, he routed them, and slew great numbers of them

in the field.  The king sent ambassadors with his submission,

and Pompey upon his supplication pardoned the offense, and

making a treaty with him, he marched directly against the

Iberians, a nation no less in number than the other, but much

more warlike, and extremely desirous of gratifying Mithridates,

and driving out Pompey.  These Iberians were never subject to

the Medes or Persians, and they happened likewise to escape the

dominion of the Macedonians, because Alexander was so quick in

his march through Hyrcania.  But these also Pompey subdued in a

great battle, where there were slain nine thousand upon the

spot, and more than ten thousand taken prisoners.  From thence

he entered into the country of Colchis, where Servilius met him

by the river Phasis, bringing the fleet with which he was

guarding the Pontus.

The pursuit of Mithridates, who had thrown himself among the

tribes inhabiting Bosporus and the shores of the Maeotian Sea,

presented great difficulties.  News was also brought to Pompey

that the Albanians had again revolted.  This made him turn

back, out of anger and determination not to be beaten by them,

and with difficulty and great danger he passed back over the

Cyrnus, which the barbarous people had fortified a great way

down the banks with palisadoes.  And after this, having a

tedious march to make through a waterless and difficult

country, he ordered ten thousand skins to be filled with water,

and so advanced towards the enemy; whom he found drawn up in

order of battle near the river Abas, to the number of sixty

thousand horse, and twelve thousand foot, ill armed generally,

and most of them covered only with the skins of wild beasts.

Their general was Cosis, the king's brother, who as soon as the

battle was begun, singled out Pompey, and rushing in upon him,

darted his javelin into the joints of his breastplate; while

Pompey, in return, struck him through the body with his lance,

and slew him.  It is related that in this battle there were

Amazons fighting as auxiliaries with the barbarians, and that

they came down from the mountains by the river Thermodon.  For

that after the battle, when the Romans were taking the spoil

and plunder of the field, they met with several targets and

buskins of the Amazons; but no woman's body was found among the

dead.  They inhabit the parts of Mount Caucasus that reach down

to the Hyrcanian Sea, not immediately bordering upon the

Albanians, for the Gelae and the Leges lie betwixt; and they

keep company with these people yearly, for two months only,

near the river Thermodon; after which they retire to their own

habitations, and live alone all the rest of the year.

After this engagement, Pompey was eager to advance with his

forces upon the Hyrcanian and Caspian Sea, but was forced to

retreat at a distance of three days' march from it, by the

number of venomous serpents, and so he retreated into Armenia

the Less.  Whilst he was there, kings of the Elymaeans and Medes

sent ambassadors to him, to whom he gave friendly answer by

letter; and sent against the king of Parthia, who had made

incursions upon Gordyene, and despoiled the subjects of

Tigranes, an army under the command of Afranius, who put him to

the rout, and followed him in chase as far as the district of

Arbela.

Of the concubines of king Mithridates that were brought before

Pompey, he took none to himself, but sent them all away to

their parents and relations; most of them being either the

daughters or wives of princes and great commanders.

Stratonice, however, who had the greatest power and influence

with him, and to whom he had committed the custody of his best

and richest fortress, had been, it seems, the daughter of a

musician, an old man, and of no great fortune, and happening to

sing one night before Mithridates at a banquet, she struck his

fancy so, that immediately he took her with him, and sent away

the old man much dissatisfied, the king having not so much as

said one kind word to himself.  But when he rose in the

morning, and saw tables in his house richly covered with gold

and silver plate, a great retinue of servants, eunuchs, and

pages, bringing him rich garments, and a horse standing before

the door richly caparisoned, in all respects as was usual with

the king's favorites, he looked upon it all as a piece of

mockery, and thinking himself trifled with, attempted to make

off and run away.  But the servants laying hold upon him, and

informing him really that the king had bestowed on him the

house and furniture of a rich man lately deceased, and that

these were but the first-fruits or earnests of greater riches

and possessions that were to come, he was persuaded at last

with much difficulty to believe them.  And so putting on his

purple robes, and mounting his horse, he rode through the city,

crying out, "All this is mine;" and to those that laughed at

him, he said, there was no such wonder in this, but it was a

wonder rather that he did not throw stones at all he met, he

was so transported with joy.  Such was the parentage and blood

of Stratonice.  She now delivered up this castle into the hands

of Pompey, and offered him many presents of great value, of

which he accepted only such as he thought might serve to adorn

the temples of the gods, and add to the splendor of his

triumph; the rest he left to Stratonice's disposal, bidding her

please herself in the enjoyment of them.

And in the same manner he dealt with the presents offered him

by the king of Iberia, who sent him a bedstead, table, and a

chair of state, all of gold, desiring him to accept of them;

but he delivered them all into the custody of the public

treasurers, for the use of the Commonwealth.

In another castle called Caenum, Pompey found and read with

pleasure several secret writings of Mithridates, containing

much that threw light on his character.  For there were memoirs

by which it appeared that besides others, he had made away with

his son Ariarathes by poison, as also with Alcaeus the Sardian,

for having robbed him of the first honors in a horse-race.

There were several judgments upon the interpretation of dreams,

which either he himself or some of his mistresses had had; and

besides these, there was a series of wanton letters to and from

his concubine Monime.  Theophanes tells us that there was found

also an address by Rutilius, in which he attempted to

exasperate him to the laughter of all the Romans in Asia;

though most men justly conjecture this to be a malicious

invention of Theophanes, who probably hated Rutilius because he

was a man in nothing like himself; or perhaps it might be to

gratify Pompey, whose father is described by Rutilius in his

history, as the vilest man alive.

From thence Pompey came to the city of Amisus, where his

passion for glory put him into a position which might be called

a punishment on himself.  For whereas he had often sharply

reproached Lucullus, in that while the enemy was still living,

he had taken upon him to issue decrees, and distribute rewards

and honors, as conquerors usually do only when the war is

brought to an end, yet now was he himself, while Mithridates

was paramount in the kingdom of Bosporus, and at the head of a

powerful army, as if all were ended, just doing the same thing,

regulating the provinces, and distributing rewards, many great

commanders and princes having flocked to him, together with no

less than twelve barbarian kings; insomuch that to gratify

these other kings, when he wrote to the king of Parthia, he

would not condescend, as others used to do, in the

superscription of his letter, to give him his title of king of

kings.

Moreover, he had a great desire and emulation to occupy Syria,

and to march through Arabia to the Red Sea, that he might thus

extend his conquests every way to the great ocean that

encompasses the habitable earth; as in Africa he was the first

Roman that advanced his victories to the ocean; and again in

Spain he made the Atlantic Sea the limit of the empire; and

then thirdly, in his late pursuit of the Albanians, he had

wanted but little of reaching the Hyrcanian Sea.  Accordingly

he raised his camp, designing to bring the Red Sea within the

circuit of his expedition, especially as he saw how difficult

it was to hunt after Mithridates with an army, and that he

would prove a worse enemy flying than fighting.  But yet he

declared, that he would leave a sharper enemy behind him than

himself, namely, famine; and therefore he appointed a guard

of ships to lie in wait for the merchants that sailed to

Bosporus, death being the penalty for any who should attempt to

carry provisions thither.

Then he set forward with the greatest part of his army, and in

his march casually fell in with several dead bodies still

uninterred, of those soldiers who were slain with Triarius in

his unfortunate engagement with Mithridates; these he buried

splendidly and honorably.  The neglect of whom, it is thought,

caused, as much as anything, the hatred that was felt against

Lucullus, and alienated the affections of the soldiers from

him.  Pompey having now by his forces under the command of

Afranius, subdued the Arabians about the mountain Amanus,

himself entered Syria, and finding it destitute of any natural

and lawful prince, reduced it into the form of a province, as a

possession of the people of Rome.  He conquered also Judaea,

and took its king, Aristobulus, captive.  Some cities he built

anew, and to others he gave their liberty, chastising their

tyrants.  Most part of the time that he spent there was

employed in the administration of justice, In deciding

controversies of kings and States; and where he himself could

not be present in person, he gave commissions to his friends,

and sent them.  Thus when there arose a difference betwixt the

Armenians and Parthians about some territory, and the judgment

was referred to him, he gave a power by commission to three

judges and arbiters to hear and determine the controversy.  For

the reputation of his power was great; nor was the fame of his

justice and clemency inferior to that of his power, and served

indeed as a veil for a multitude of faults committed by his

friends and familiars.  For although it was not in his nature

to check or chastise wrongdoers, yet he himself always treated

those that had to do with him in such a manner, that they

submitted to endure with patience the acts of covetousness and

oppression done by others.

Among these friends of his, there was one Demetrius who had the

greatest influence with him of all; he was a freed slave, a

youth of good understanding, but somewhat too insolent in his

good fortune, of whom there goes this story.  Cato, the

philosopher, being as yet a very young man, but of great repute

and a noble mind, took a journey of pleasure to Antioch, at a

time when Pompey was not there, having a great desire to see

the city.  He, as his custom was, walked on foot, and his

friends accompanied him on horseback; and seeing before the

gates of the city a multitude dressed in white, the young men

on one side of the road, and the boys on the other, he was

somewhat offended at it, imagining that it was officiously done

in honor of him, which was more than he had any wish for.

However, he desired his companions to alight and walk with him;

but when they drew near, the master of the ceremonies in this

procession came out with a garland and a rod in his hand, and

met them, inquiring, where they had left Demetrius, and when he

would come?  Upon which Cato's companions burst out into

laughter, but Cato said only, "Alas, poor city!"  and passed by

without any other answer.  However, Pompey rendered Demetrius

less odious to others by enduring his presumption and

impertinence to himself.  For it is reported how that Pompey,

when he had invited his friends to an entertainment, would be

very ceremonious in waiting, till they all came and were

placed, while Demetrius would be already stretched upon the

couch as if he cared for no one, with his dress over his ears,

hanging down from his head.  Before his return into Italy, he

had purchased the pleasantest country-seat about Rome, with the

finest walks and places for exercise, and there were sumptuous

gardens, called by the name of Demetrius, while Pompey his

master, up to his third triumph, was contented with an ordinary

and simple habitation.  Afterwards, it is true, when he had

erected his famous and stately theater for the people of Rome,

he built as a sort of appendix to it, a house for himself, much

more splendid than his former, and yet no object even this to

excite men's envy, since he who came to be master of it after

Pompey could not but express wonder and inquire where Pompey

the Great used to sup.  Such is the story told us.

The king of the Arabs near Petra, who had hitherto despised the

power of the Romans, now began to be in great alarm at it, and

sent letters to him promising to be at his commands, and to do

whatever he should see fit to order.  However, Pompey having a

desire to confirm and keep him in the same mind, marched

forwards for Petra, an expedition not altogether

irreprehensible in the opinion of many; who thought it a mere

running away from their proper duty, the pursuit of

Mithridates, Rome's ancient and inveterate enemy, who was now

rekindling the war once more, and making preparations, it was

reported, to lead his army through Scythia and Paeonia, into

Italy.  Pompey, on the other side, judging it easier to destroy

his forces in battle, than to seize his person in flight,

resolved not to tire himself out in a vain pursuit, but rather

to spend his leisure upon another enemy, as a sort of

digression in the meanwhile.  But fortune resolved the doubt;

for when he was now not far from Petra, and had pitched his

tents and encamped for that day, as he was talking exercise

with his horse outside the camp, couriers came riding up from

Pontus, bringing good news, as was known at once by the heads

of their javelins, which it is the custom to carry crowned with

branches of laurel.  The soldiers, as soon as they saw them,

flocked immediately to Pompey, who notwithstanding was minded to

finish his exercise; but when they began to be clamorous and

importunate, he alighted from his horse, and taking the letters

went before them into the camp.  Now there being no tribunal

erected there, not even that military substitute for one which

they make by cutting up thick turfs of earth and piling them

one upon another, they, through eagerness and impatience,

heaped up a pile of pack-saddles, and Pompey standing upon

that, told them the news of Mithridates's death, how that he

had himself put an end to his life upon the revolt of his son

Pharnaces, and that Pharnaces had taken all things there into

his hands and possession, which he did, his letters said, in

right of himself and the Romans.  Upon this news, the whole

army expressing their joy, as was to be expected, fell to

sacrificing to the gods, and feasting, as if in the person of

Mithridates alone there had died many thousands of their

enemies.

Pompey by this event having brought this war to its completion,

with much more ease than was expected, departed forthwith out

of Arabia, and passing rapidly through the intermediate

provinces, he came at length to the city Amisus.  There he

received many presents brought from Pharnaces, with several

dead bodies of the royal blood, and the corpse of Mithridates

himself, which was not easy to be known by the face, for the

physicians that embalmed him had not dried up his brain, but

those who were curious to see him knew him by the scars there.

Pompey himself would not endure to see him, but to deprecate

the divine jealousy, sent it away to the city of Sinope.  He

admired the richness of his robes, no less than the size and

splendor of his armor.  His swordbelt, however, which had cost

four hundred talents, was stolen by Publius, and sold to

Ariarathes; his tiara also, a piece of admirable workmanship,

Gaius, the roster brother of Mithridates, gave secretly to

Faustus, the son of Sylla, at his request.  All which Pompey

was ignorant of, but afterwards, when Pharnaces came to

understand it, he severely punished those that embezzled them.

Pompey now having ordered all things, and established that

province, took his journey homewards in greater pomp and with

more festivity.  For when he came to Mitylene, he gave the city

their freedom upon the intercession of Theophanes, and was

present at the contest, there periodically held, of the poets,

who took at that time no other theme or subject than the

actions of Pompey.  He was extremely pleased with the theater

itself, and had a model of it taken, intending to erect one in

Rome on the same design, but larger and more magnificent.  When

he came to Rhodes, he attended the lectures of all the

philosophers there, and gave to every one of them a talent.

Posidonius has published the disputation which he held before

him against Hermagoras the rhetorician, upon the subject of

Invention in general.  At Athens, also, he showed similar,

munificence to the philosophers, and gave fifty talents towards

the repairing and beautifying the city.  So that now by all

these acts he well hoped to return into Italy in the greatest

splendor and glory possible to man, and find his family as

desirous to see him, as he felt himself to come home to them.

But that supernatural agency, whose province and charge it is

always to mix some ingredient of evil with the greatest and

most glorious goods of fortune, had for some time back been

busy in his household, preparing him a sad welcome.  For Mucia

during his absence had dishonored his bed.  Whilst he was

abroad at a distance, he had refused all credence to the

report; but when he drew nearer to Italy, where his thoughts

were more at leisure to give consideration to the charge, he

sent her a bill of divorce; but neither then in writing, nor

afterwards by word of mouth, did he ever give a reason why he

discharged her; the cause of it is mentioned in Cicero's

epistles.

Rumors of every kind were scattered abroad about Pompey, and

were carried to Rome before him, so that there was a great

tumult and stir, as if he designed forthwith to march with his

army into the city, and establish himself securely as sole

ruler.  Crassus withdrew himself, together with his children

and property, out of the city, either that he was really

afraid, or that he counterfeited rather, as is most probable,

to give credit to the calumny and exasperate the jealousy of

the people.  Pompey, therefore, as soon as he entered Italy,

called a general muster of the army; and having made a suitable

address and exchanged a kind farewell with his soldiers, he

commanded them to depart every man to his country and place of

habitation, only taking care that they should not fail to meet

again at his triumph.  Thus the army being disbanded, and the

news commonly reported, a wonderful result ensued.  For when

the cities saw Pompey the Great passing through the country

unarmed, and with a small train of familiar friends only, as if

he was returning from a journey of pleasure, not from his

conquests, they came pouring out to display their affection for

him, attending and conducting him to Rome with far greater

forces than he disbanded; insomuch that if he had designed

any movement or innovation in the State, he might have done it

without his army.

Now, because the law permitted no commander to enter into the

city before his triumph, he sent to the senate, entreating them

as a favor to him to prorogue the election of consuls, that

thus he might be able to attend and give countenance to Piso,

one of the candidates.  The request was resisted by Cato, and

met with a refusal.  However, Pompey could not but admire the

liberty and boldness of speech which Cato alone had dared to

use in the maintenance of law and justice.  He therefore had a

great desire to win him over, and purchase his friendship at

any rate; and to that end, Cato having two nieces, Pompey asked

for one in marriage for himself, the other for his son.  But

Cato looked unfavorably on the proposal, regarding it as a

design for undermining his honesty, and in a manner bribing him

by a family alliance; much to the displeasure of his wife and

sister, who were indignant that he should reject a connection

with Pompey the Great.  About that time Pompey having a design

of setting up Afranius for the consulship, gave a sum of money

among the tribes for their votes, and people came and received

it in his own gardens a proceeding which, when it came to be

generally known, excited great disapprobation, that he should

thus for the sake of men who could not obtain the honor by

their own merits, make merchandise of an office which had been

given to himself as the highest reward of his services.  "Now,"

said Cato to his wife and sister, "had we contracted an

alliance with Pompey, we had been allied to this dishonor too;"

and this they could not but acknowledge, and allow his judgment

of what was right and fitting to have been wiser and better

than theirs.

The splendor and magnificence of Pompey's triumph was such that

though it took up the space of two days, yet they were

extremely straitened in time, so that of what was prepared for

that pageantry, there was as much withdrawn as would have set

out and adorned another triumph.  In the first place, there were

tables carried, inscribed with the names and titles of the

nations over whom he triumphed, Pontus, Armenia, Cappadocia,

Paphlagonia, Media, Colchis, the Iberians, the Albanians,

Syria, Cilicia, and Mesopotamia, together with Phoenicia and

Palestine, Judaea, Arabia, and all the power of the pirates

subdued by sea and land.  And in these different countries

there appeared the capture of no less than one thousand

fortified places, nor much less than nine hundred cities,

together with eight hundred ships of the pirates, and the

foundation of thirty-nine towns.  Besides, there was set forth

in these tables an account of all the tributes throughout the

empire, and how that before these conquests the revenue

amounted but to fifty millions, whereas from his acquisitions

they had a revenue of eighty-five millions; and that in present

payment he was bringing into the common treasury ready money,

and gold and silver plate, and ornaments, to the value of

twenty thousand talents, over and above what had been

distributed among the soldiers, of whom he that had least had

fifteen hundred drachmas for his share.  The prisoners of war

that were led in triumph, besides the chief pirates, were the

son of Tigranes, king of Armenia, with his wife and daughter;

as also Zosime, wife of king Tigranes himself, and Aristobulus,

king of Judaea, the sister of king Mithridates and her five

sons, and some Scythian women.  There were likewise the

hostages of the Albanians and Iberians, and of the king of

Commagene, besides a vast number of trophies, one for every

battle in which he was conqueror, either himself in person, or

by his lieutenants.  But that which seemed to be his greatest

glory, being one which no other Roman ever attained to, was

this, that he made his third triumph over the third division of

the world.  For others among the Romans had the honor of

triumphing thrice, but his first triumph was over Africa, his

second, over Europe, and this last, over Asia; so that he

seemed in these three triumphs to have led the whole world

captive.

As for his age, those who affect to make the parallel exact in

all things betwixt him and Alexander the Great, do not allow

him to have been quite thirty-four, whereas in truth at that

time he was near forty.  And well had it been for him had he

terminated his life at this date, while he still enjoyed

Alexander's fortune, since all his aftertime served only either

to bring him prosperity that made him odious, or calamities too

great to be retrieved.  For that great authority which he had

gained in the city by his merits, he made use of only in

patronizing the iniquities of others, so that by advancing

their fortunes, he detracted from his own glory, till at last

he was overthrown even by the force and greatness of his own

power.  And as the strongest citadel or fort in a town, when it

is taken by an enemy, does then afford the same strength to the

foe, as it had done to friends before; so Caesar, after

Pompey's aid had made him strong enough to defy his country,

ruined and overthrew at last the power which had availed him

against the rest.  The course of things was as follows.

Lucullus, when he returned out of Asia, where he had been

treated with insult by Pompey, was received by the senate with

great honor, which was yet increased when Pompey came home; to

check whose ambition they encouraged him to assume the

administration of the government, whereas he was now grown cold

and disinclined to business, having given himself over to the

pleasures of ease and the enjoyment of a splendid fortune.

However, he began for the time to exert himself against Pompey,

attacked him sharply, and succeeded in having his own acts and

decrees, which were repealed by Pompey, reestablished, and with

the assistance of Cato, gained the superiority in the senate.

Pompey having fallen from his hopes in such an unworthy

repulse, was forced to fly to the tribunes of the people for

refuge, and to attach himself to the young men, among whom was

Clodius, the vilest and most impudent wretch alive, who took

him about, and exposed him as a tool to the people, carrying

him up and down among the throngs in the market-place, to

countenance those laws and speeches which he made to cajole the

people and ingratiate himself.  And at last for his reward, he

demanded of Pompey, as if he had not disgraced, but done him

great kindness, that he should forsake (as in the end he did

forsake) Cicero, his friend, who on many public occasions had

done him the greatest service.  And so when Cicero was in

danger, and implored his aid, he would not admit him into his

presence, but shutting up his gates against those that came to

mediate for him, slips out at a back door, whereupon Cicero

fearing the result of his trial, departed privately from Rome.

About that time Caesar, returning from military service,

started a course of policy which brought him great present

favor, and much increased his power for the future, and proved

extremely destructive both to Pompey and the commonwealth.  For

now he stood candidate for his first consulship, and well

observing the enmity betwixt Pompey and Crassus, and finding

that by joining with one he should make the other his enemy, he

endeavored by all means to reconcile them, an object in itself

honorable and tending to the public good, but as he undertook

it, a mischievous and subtle intrigue.  For he well knew that

opposite parties or factions in a commonwealth, like passengers

in a boat, serve to trim and balance the unready motions of

power there; whereas if they combine and come all over to one

side, they cause a shock which will be sure to overset the

vessel and carry down everything.  And therefore Cato wisely

told those who charged all the calamities of Rome upon the

disagreement betwixt Pompey and Caesar, that they were in error

in charging all the crime upon the last cause; for it was not

their discord and enmity, but their unanimity and I friendship,

that gave the first and greatest blow to the commonwealth.

Caesar being thus elected consul, began at once to make an

interest with the poor and meaner sort, by preferring and

establishing laws for planting colonies and dividing lands,

lowering the dignity of his office, and turning his consulship

into a sort of tribuneship rather.  And when Bibulus, his

colleague, opposed him, and Cato was prepared to second

Bibulus, and assist him vigorously, Caesar brought Pompey upon

the hustings, and addressing him in the sight of the people,

demanded his opinion upon the laws that were proposed.  Pompey

gave his approbation.  "Then," said Caesar, "in case any man

should offer violence to these laws, will you be reedy to give

assistance to the people?"  "Yes," replied Pompey, "I shall be

ready, and against those that threaten the sword, I will appear

with sword and buckler."  Nothing ever was said or done by

Pompey up to that day, that seemed more insolent or

overbearing; so that his friends endeavored to apologize for it

as a word spoken inadvertently; but by his actions afterwards

it appeared plainly that he was totally devoted to Caesar's

service.  For on a sudden, contrary to all expectation, he

married Julia, the daughter of Caesar, who had been affianced

before and was to be married within a few days to Caepio.  And

to appease Caepio's wrath, he gave him his own daughter in

marriage, who had been espoused before to Faustus, the son of

Sylla.  Caesar himself married Calpurnia, the daughter of Piso.

Upon this Pompey, filling the city with soldiers, carried all

things by force as he pleased.  As Bibulus, the consul, was

going to the forum, accompanied by Lucullus and Cato, they fell

upon him on a sudden and broke his rods; and somebody threw a

vessel of ordure upon the head of Bibulus himself; and two

tribunes of the people, who escorted him, were desperately

wounded in the fray.  And thus having cleared the forum of all

their adversaries, they got their bill for the division of

lands established and passed into an act; and not only so, but

the whole populace being taken with this bait, became totally

at their devotion, inquiring into nothing and without a word

giving their suffrages to whatever they propounded.  Thus they

confirmed all those acts and decrees of Pompey, which were

questioned and contested by Lucullus; and to Caesar they

granted the provinces of Gaul, both within and without the

Alps, together with Illyricum, for five years, and likewise an

army of four entire legions; then they created consuls for the

year ensuing, Piso, the father-in-law of Caesar, and Gabinius,

the most extravagant of Pompey's flatterers.

During all these transactions, Bibulus kept close within doors,

nor did he appear publicly in person for the space of eight

months together, notwithstanding he was consul, but sent out

proclamations full of bitter invectives and accusations against

them both.  Cato turned prophet, and, as if he had been

possessed with a spirit of divination, did nothing else in the

senate but foretell what evils should befall the Commonwealth

and Pompey.  Lucullus pleaded old age, and retired to take his

ease, as superannuated for affairs of State; which gave

occasion to the saying of Pompey, that the fatigues of luxury

were not more seasonable for an old man than those of

government.  Which in truth proved a reflection upon himself;

for he not long after let his fondness for his young wife

seduce him also into effeminate habits.  He gave all his time

to her, and passed his days in her company in country-houses

and gardens, paying no heed to what was going on in the forum.

Insomuch that Clodius, who was then tribune of the people,

began to despise him, and engage in the most audacious

attempts.  For when he had banished Cicero, and sent away Cato

into Cyprus under pretence of military duty, and when Caesar

was gone upon his expedition to Gaul, finding the populace now

looking to him as the leader who did everything according to

their pleasure, he attempted forthwith to repeal some of

Pompey's decrees; he took Tigranes, the captive, out of prison,

and kept him about him as his companion; and commenced actions

against several of Pompey's friends, thus designing to try the

extent of his power.  At last, upon a time when Pompey was

present at the hearing of a certain cause, Clodius, accompanied

with a crowd of profligate and impudent ruffians, standing up

in a place above the rest, put questions to the populace as

follows:  "Who is the dissolute general?  who is the man that

seeks another man?  who scratches his head with one finger?"

and the rabble, upon the signal of his shaking his gown, with a

great shout to every question, like singers making, responses

in a chorus, made answer, "Pompey."

This indeed was no small annoyance to Pompey, who was quite

unaccustomed to hear anything ill of himself, and

unexperienced altogether in such encounters; and he was yet

more vexed, when he saw that the senate rejoiced at this foul

usage, and regarded it as a just punishment upon him for his

treachery to Cicero.  But when it came even to blows and wounds

in the forum, and that one of Clodius's bondslaves was

apprehended, creeping through the crowd towards Pompey with a

sword in his hand, Pompey laid hold of this pretence, though

perhaps otherwise apprehensive of Clodius's insolence and bad

language, and never appeared again in the forum during all the

time he was tribune, but kept close at home, and passed his

time in consulting with his friends, by what means he might

best allay the displeasure of the senate and nobles against

him.  Among other expedients, Culleo advised the divorce of

Julia, and to abandon Caesar's friendship to gain that of the

senate; this he would not hearken to.  Others again advised him

to call home Cicero from banishment, a man who was always the

great adversary of Clodius, and as great a favorite of the

senate; to this he was easily persuaded.  And therefore he

brought Cicero's brother into the forum, attended with a strong

party, to petition for his return; where, after a warm dispute,

in which several were wounded and some slain, he got the

victory over Clodius.  No sooner was Cicero returned home upon

this decree, but immediately he used his efforts to reconcile

the senate to Pompey; and by speaking in favor of the law upon

the importation of corn, did again, in effect, make Pompey

sovereign lord of all the Roman possessions by sea and land.

For by that law, there were placed under his control all ports,

markets, and storehouses, and in short, all the concerns both

of the merchants and the husbandmen; which gave occasion to the

charge brought against it by Clodius, that the law was not made

because of the scarcity of corn, but the scarcity of corn was

made, that they might pass a law, whereby that power of his,

which was now grown feeble and consumptive, might be revived

again, and Pompey reinstated in a new empire.  Others look upon

it as a politic device of Spinther, the consul, whose design it

was to secure Pompey in a greater authority, that he himself

might be sent in assistance to king Ptolemy.  However, it is

certain that Canidius, the tribune, preferred a law to dispatch

Pompey in the character of an ambassador, without an army,

attended only with two lictors, as a mediator betwixt the king

and his subjects of Alexandria.  Neither did this proposal seem

unacceptable to Pompey, though the senate cast it out upon the

specious pretence, that they were unwilling to hazard his

person.  However, there were found several writings scattered

about the forum and near the senate-house, intimating how

grateful it would be to Ptolemy to have Pompey appointed for

his general instead of Spinther.  And Timagenes even asserts

that Ptolemy went away and left Egypt, not out of necessity,

but purely upon the persuasion of Theophanes, who was anxious

to give Pompey the opportunity for holding a new command, and

gaining further wealth.  But Theophanes's want of honesty does

not go so far to make this story credible as does Pompey's own

nature, which was averse, with all its ambition, to such base

and disingenuous acts, to render it improbable.

Thus Pompey being appointed chief purveyor, and having within

his administration and management all the corn trade, sent

abroad his factors and agents into all quarters, and he himself

sailing into Sicily, Sardinia, and Africa, collected vast

stores of corn.  He was just ready to set sail upon his voyage

home, when a great storm arose upon the sea, and the ships'

commanders doubted whether it were safe.  Upon which Pompey

himself went first aboard, and bid the mariners weigh anchor,

declaring with a loud voice, that there was a necessity to

sail, but no necessity to live.  So that with this spirit and

courage, and having met with favorable fortune, he made a

prosperous return, and filled the markets with corn, and the

sea with ships.  So much so that this great plenty and

abundance of provisions yielded a sufficient supply, not only

to the city of Rome, but even to other places too, dispersing

itself; like waters from a spring, into all quarters.

Meantime Caesar grew great and famous with his wars in Gaul,

and while in appearance he seemed far distant from Rome,

entangled in the affairs of the Belgians, Suevians, and

Britons, in truth he was working craftily by secret practices

in the midst of the people, and countermining Pompey in all

political matters of most importance.  He himself with his army

close about him, as if it had been his own body, not with mere

views of conquest over the barbarians, but as though his

contests with them were but mere sports and exercises of the

chase, did his utmost with this training and discipline to make

it invincible and alarming.  And in the meantime his gold and

silver and other spoils and treasure which he took from the

enemy in his conquests, he sent to Rome in presents, tempting

people with his gifts, and aiding aediles, praetors, and

consuls, as also their wives, in their expenses, and thus

purchasing himself numerous friends.  Insomuch, that when he

passed back again over the Alps, and took up his winter

quarters in the city of Luca, there flocked to him an infinite

number of men and women, striving who should get first to him,

two hundred senators included, among whom were Pompey and

Crassus; so that there were to be seen at once before Caesar's

door no less than six score rods of proconsuls and praetors.

The rest of his addressers he sent all away full fraught with

hopes and money; but with Crassus and Pompey, he entered into

special articles of agreement, that they should stand

candidates for the consulship next year; that Caesar on his

part should send a number of his soldiers to give their votes

at the election; that as soon as they were elected, they should

use their interest to have the command of some provinces and

legions assigned to themselves, and that Caesar should have

his present charge confirmed to him for five years more.  When

these arrangements came to be generally known, great

indignation was excited among the chief men in Rome; and

Marcellinus, in an open assembly of the people, demanded of

them both, whether they designed to sue for the consulship or

no.  And being urged by the people for their answer, Pompey

spoke first, and told them, perhaps he would sue for it,

perhaps he would not.  Crassus was more temperate, and said,

that he would do what should be judged most agreeable with the

interest of the Commonwealth; and when Marcellinus persisted in

his attack on Pompey, and spoke, as it was thought, with some

vehemence, Pompey remarked that Marcellinus was certainly the

unfairest of men, to show him no gratitude for having thus made

him an orator out of a mute, and converted him from a hungry

starveling into a man so full-fed that he could not contain

himself.

Most of the candidates nevertheless abandoned their canvass for

the consulship; Cato alone persuaded and encouraged Lucius

Domitius not to desist, "since," said he, "the contest now is

not for office, but for liberty against tyrants and usurpers."

Therefore those of Pompey's party, fearing this inflexible

constancy in Cato, by which he kept with him the whole senate,

lest by this he should likewise pervert and draw after him all

the well-affected part of the commonalty, resolved to withstand

Domitius at once, and to prevent his entrance into the forum.

To this end, therefore, they sent in a band of armed men, who

slew the torchbearer of Domitius, as he was leading the way

before him, and put all the rest to flight; last of all, Cato

himself retired, having received a wound in his right arm while

defending Domitius.  Thus by these means and practices they

obtained the consulship; neither did they behave themselves

with more decency in their further proceedings; but in the

first place, when the people were choosing Cato praetor, and

just ready with their votes for the poll, Pompey broke up the

assembly, upon a pretext of some inauspicious appearance, and

having gained the tribes by money, they publicly proclaimed

Vatinius praetor.  Then, in pursuance of their covenants with

Caesar, they introduced several laws by Trebonius, the tribune,

continuing Caesar's commission to another five years' charge of

his province; to Crassus there were appointed Syria, and the

Parthian war; and to Pompey himself, all Africa, together with

both Spains, and four legions of soldiers, two of which he lent

to Caesar upon his request, for the wars in Gaul.

Crassus, upon the expiration of his consulship, departed

forthwith into his province; but Pompey spent some time in

Rome, upon the opening or dedication of his theater, where he

treated the people with all sorts of games, shows, and

exercises, in gymnastics alike and in music.  There was

likewise the hunting or baiting of wild beasts, and combats

with them, in which five hundred lions were slain; but above

all, the battle of elephants was a spectacle full of horror and

amazement.

These entertainments brought him great honor and popularity;

but on the other side he created no less envy to himself, in

that he committed the government of his provinces and legions

into the hands of friends as his lieutenants, whilst he himself

was going about and spending his time with his wife in all the

places of amusement in Italy; whether it were he was so fond of

her himself, or she so fond of him, and he unable to distress

her by going away, for this also is stated.  And the love

displayed by this young wife for her elderly husband was a

matter of general note, to be attributed, it would seem, to his

constancy in married life, and to his dignity of manner, which

in familiar intercourse was tempered with grace and gentleness,

and was particularly attractive to women, as even Flora, the

courtesan, may be thought good enough evidence to prove.  It

once happened in a public assembly, as they were at an election

of the aediles, that the people came to blows, and several

about Pompey were slain, so that he, finding himself all

bloody, ordered a change of apparel; but the

servants who brought home his clothes, making a

great bustle and hurry about the house, it chanced

that the young lady, who was then with child, saw his

gown all stained with blood; upon which she dropped immediately

into a swoon, and was hardly brought to life again; however,

what with her fright and suffering, she fell into labor and

miscarried; even those who chiefly censured Pompey for his

friendship to Caesar, could not reprove him for his affection

to so attached a wife.  Afterwards she was great again, and

brought to bed of a daughter, but died in childbed; neither did

the infant outlive her mother many days.  Pompey had prepared

all things for the interment of her corpse at his house near

Alba, but the people seized upon it by force, and performed the

solemnities in the field of Mars, rather in compassion for the

young lady, than in favor either for Pompey or Caesar; and yet

of these two, the people seemed at that time to pay Caesar a

greater share of honor in his absence, than to Pompey, though

he was present.

For the city now at once began to roll and swell, so to say,

with the stir of the coming storm.  Things everywhere were in a

state of agitation, and everybody's discourse tended to

division, now that death had put an end to that relation which

hitherto had been a disguise rather than restraint to the

ambition of these men.  Besides, not long after came messengers

from Parthia with intelligence of the death of Crassus there,

by which another safeguard against civil war was removed, since

both Caesar and Pompey kept their eyes on Crassus, and awe of

him held them together more or less within the bounds of

fair-dealing all his lifetime.  But when fortune had taken away

this second, whose province it might have been to revenge the

quarrel of the conquered, you might then say with the comic

poet,

The combatants are waiting to begin,

Smearing their hands with dust and oiling each his skin.

So inconsiderable a thing is fortune in respect of human

nature, and so insufficient to give content to a covetous mind,

that an empire of that mighty extent and sway could not satisfy

the ambition of two men; and though they knew and had read,

that

The gods, when they divided out 'twixt three,

This massive universe, heaven, hell, and sea,

Each one sat down contented on his throne,

And undisturbed each god enjoys his own,

yet they thought the whole Roman empire not sufficient to

contain them, though they were but two.

Pompey once in an oration to the people, told them, that he had

always come into office before he expected he should, and that

he had always left it sooner than they expected he would; and,

indeed, the disbanding of all his armies witnessed as much.

Yet when he perceived that Caesar would not so willingly

discharge his forces, he endeavored to strengthen himself

against him by offices and commands in the city; but beyond

this he showed no desire for any change, and would not seem to

distrust, but rather to disregard and contemn him.  And when he

saw how they bestowed the places of government quite contrary

to his wishes, because the citizens were bribed in their

elections, he let things take their course, and allowed the

city to be left without any government at all.  Hereupon there

was mention straightaway made of appointing a dictator.

Lucilius, a tribune of the people, was the man who first

adventured to propose it, urging the people to make Pompey

dictator.  But the tribune was in danger of being turned out of

his office, by the opposition that Cato made against it.  And

for Pompey, many of his friends appeared and excused him,

alleging that he never was desirous of that government, neither

would he accept of it.  And when Cato therefore made a speech

in commendation of Pompey, and exhorted him to support the

cause of good order in the Commonwealth, he could not for shame

but yield to it, and so for the present Domitius and Messala

were elected consuls.  But shortly afterwards, when there was

another anarchy, or vacancy in the government, and the talk of

a dictator was much louder and more general than before, those

of Cato's party, fearing lest they should be forced to appoint

Pompey, thought it policy to keep him from that arbitrary and

tyrannical power, by giving him an office of more legal

authority.  Bibulus himself, who was Pompey's enemy, first gave

his vote in the senate, that Pompey should be created consul

alone; alleging, that by these means either the Commonwealth

would be freed from its present confusion, or that its bondage

should be lessened by serving the worthiest.  This was looked

upon as a very strange opinion, considering the man that spoke

it; and therefore on Cato's standing up, everybody expected

that he would have opposed it; but after silence made, he said

that he would never have been the author of that advice

himself, but since it was propounded by another, his advice was

to follow it, adding, that any form of government was better

than none at all; and that in a time so full of distraction, he

thought no man fitter to govern than Pompey.  This counsel was

unanimously approved of, and a decree passed that Pompey should

be made sole consul, with this clause, that if he thought it

necessary to have a colleague, he might choose whom he pleased,

provided it were not till after two months expired.

Thus was Pompey created and declared sole consul by Sulpicius,

regent in this vacancy; upon which he made very cordial

acknowledgments to Cato, professing himself much his debtor,

and requesting his good advice in conducting the government; to

this Cato replied, that Pompey had no reason to thank him, for

all that he had said was for the service of the commonwealth,

not of Pompey; but that he would be always ready to give his

advice privately, if he were asked for it; and if not, he

should not fail to say what he thought in public.  Such was

Cato's conduct on all occasions.

On his return into the city Pompey married Cornelia, the

daughter of Metellus Scipio, not a maiden, but lately left a

widow by Publius, the son of Crassus, her first husband, who

had been killed in Parthia.  The young lady had other

attractions besides those of youth and beauty; for she was

highly educated, played well upon the lute, understood

geometry, and had been accustomed to listen with profit to

lectures on philosophy; all this, too, without in any degree

becoming unamiable or pretentious, as sometimes young women do

when they pursue such studies.  Nor could any fault be found

either with her father's family or reputation.  The disparity

of their ages was however not liked by everybody; Cornelia

being in this respect a fitter match for Pompey's son.  And

wiser judges thought it rather a slight upon the commonwealth

when he, to whom alone they had committed their broken

fortunes, and from whom alone, as from their physician, they

expected a cure to these distractions, went about crowned with

garlands and celebrating his nuptial feasts; never considering,

that his very consulship was a public calamity, which would

never have been given him, contrary to the rules of law, had

his country been in a flourishing state.  Afterwards, however,

he took cognizance of the cases of those that had obtained

offices by gifts and bribery, and enacted laws and ordinances,

setting forth the rules of judgment by which they should be

arraigned; and regulating all things with gravity and justice,

he restored security, order, and silence to their courts of

judicature, himself giving his presence there with a band of

soldiers.  But when his father-in-law Scipio was accused, he

sent for the three hundred and sixty judges to his house, and

entreated them to be favorable to him; whereupon his accuser,

seeing Scipio come into the court, accompanied by the judges

themselves, withdrew the prosecution.  Upon this Pompey was

very ill spoken of, and much worse in the case of Plancus; for

whereas he himself had made a law, putting a stop to the

practice of making speeches in praise of persons under trial,

yet notwithstanding this prohibition, he came into court, and

spoke openly in commendation of Plancus, insomuch that Cato,

who happened to be one of the judges at that time, stopping his

ears with his hands, told him, he could not in conscience

listen to commendations contrary to law.  Cato upon this was

refused, and set aside from being a judge, before sentence was

given, but Plancus was condemned by the rest of the judges, to

Pompey's dishonor.  Shortly after, Hypsaeus, a man of consular

dignity, who was under accusation, waited for Pompey's return

from his bath to his supper, and falling down at his feet,

implored his favor; but he disdainfully passed him by, saying,

that he did nothing else but spoil his supper.  Such partiality

was looked upon as a great fault in Pompey, and highly

condemned; however, he managed all things else discreetly, and

having put the government in very good order, he chose his

father-in-law to be his colleague in the consulship for the

last five months.  His provinces were continued to him for the

term of four years longer, with a commission to take one

thousand talents yearly out of the treasury for the payment of

his army.

This gave occasion to some of Caesar's friends to think it

reasonable, that some consideration should be had of him too,

who had done such signal services in war, and fought so many

battles for the empire, alleging, that he deserved at least a

second consulship, or to have the government of his province

continued, that so he might command and enjoy in peace what he

had obtained in war, and no successor come in to reap the

fruits of his labor, and carry off the glory of his actions.

There arising some debate about this matter, Pompey took upon

him, as it were out of kindness to Caesar, to plead his cause,

and allay any jealousy that was conceived against him, telling

them, that he had letters from Caesar, expressing his desire

for a successor, and his own discharge from the command; but it

would be only right that they should give him leave to stand

for the consulship though in his absence.  But those of Cato's

party withstood this, saying, that if he expected any favor

from the citizens, he ought to leave his army, and come in a

private capacity to canvas for it.  And Pompey's making no

rejoinder, but letting it pass as a matter in which he was

overruled, increased the suspicion of his real feelings towards

Caesar.  Presently, also, under presence of a war with Parthia,

he sent for his two legions which he had lent him.  However,

Caesar, though he well knew why they were asked for, sent them

home very liberally rewarded.

About that time Pompey recovered of a dangerous fit of sickness

which seized him at Naples, where the whole city, upon the

suggestion of Praxagoras, made sacrifices of thanksgiving to

the gods for his recovery.  The neighboring towns likewise

happening to follow their example, the thing then went its

course throughout all Italy, so that there was not a city

either great or small, that did not feast and rejoice for many

days together.  And the company of those that came from all

parts to meet him was so numerous, that no place was able to

contain them, but the villages, seaport towns, and the very

highways, were all full of people, feasting and sacrificing to

the gods.  Nay, many went to meet him with garlands on their

heads, and flambeaux in their hands, casting flowers and

nosegays upon him as he went along; so that this progress of

his, and reception, was one of the noblest and most glorious

sights imaginable.  And yet it is thought that this very thing

was not one of the least causes and occasions of the civil war.

For Pompey, yielding to a feeling of exultation, which in the

greatness of the present display of joy lost sight of more

solid grounds of consideration, and abandoning that prudent

temper which had guided him hitherto to a safe use of all his

good fortune and his successes, gave himself up to an

extravagant confidence in his own, and contempt of Caesar's

power; insomuch that he thought neither force of arms nor care

necessary against him, but that he could pull him down much

easier than he had set him up.  Besides this, Appius, under

whose command those legions which Pompey lent to Caesar were

returned, coming lately out of Gaul, spoke slightingly of

Caesar's actions there, and spread scandalous reports about

him, at the same time telling Pompey, that he was unacquainted

with his own strength and reputation, if he made use of any

other forces against Caesar than Caesar's own; for such was the

soldiers' hatred to Caesar, and their love to Pompey so great,

that they would all come over to him upon his first appearance.

By these flatteries Pompey was so puffed up, and led on into

such a careless security, that he could not choose but laugh at

those who seemed to fear a war; and when some were saying, that

if Caesar should march against the city, they could not see

what forces there were to resist him, he replied with a smile,

bidding them be in no concern, "for," said he, "whenever I

stamp with my foot in any part of Italy, there will rise up

forces enough in an instant, both horse and foot."

Caesar, on the other side, was more and more vigorous in his

proceedings, himself always at hand about the frontiers of

Italy, and sending his soldiers continually into the city to

attend all elections with their votes.  Besides, he corrupted

several of the magistrates, and kept them in his pay; among

others, Paulus, the consul, who was brought over by a bribe of

one thousand and five hundred talents; and Curio, tribune of

the people, by a discharge of the debts with which he was

overwhelmed; together with Mark Antony, who, out of friendship

to Curio, had become bound with him in the same obligations

for them all.  And it was stated as a fact, that a centurion of

Caesar's waiting at the senate-house, and hearing that the

senate refused to give him a longer term of his government,

clapped his hand upon his sword, and said, "But this shall give

it."  And indeed all his practices and preparations seemed to

bear this appearance.  Curio's demands, however, and requests

in favor of Caesar, were more popular in appearance; for he

desired one of these two things, either that Pompey also should

be called upon to resign his army, or that Caesar's should not

be taken away from him; for if both of them became private

persons, both would be satisfied with simple justice; or if

both retained their present power, each being a match for the

other, they would be contented with what they already had; but

he that weakens one, does at the same time strengthen the

other, and so doubles that very strength and power which he

stood in fear of before.  Marcellus, the consul, replied

nothing to all this, but that Caesar was a robber, and should

be proclaimed an enemy to the state, if he did not disband his

army.  However, Curio, with the assistance of Antony and Piso,

prevailed, that the matter in debate should be put to the

question, and decided by vote in the senate.  So that it being

ordered upon the question for those to withdraw, who were of

opinion that Caesar only should lay down his army and Pompey

command, the majority withdrew.  But when it was ordered again

for those to withdraw, whose vote was that both should lay

down their arms and neither command, there were but twenty-two

for Pompey, all the rest remained on Curio's side.  Whereupon

he, as one proud of his conquest, leaped out in triumph among

the people, who received him with as great tokens of joy,

clapping their hands, and crowning him with garlands and

flowers.  Pompey was not then present in the senate, because it

is not lawful for generals in command of an army to come into

the city.  But Marcellus rising up, said, that he would not sit

there hearing speeches, when he saw ten legions already passing

the Alps on their march toward the city, but on his own

authority would send someone to oppose them in defense of the

country.

Upon this the city went into mourning, as in a public calamity,

and Marcellus, accompanied by the senate, went solemnly through

the forum to meet Pompey, and made him this address.  "I hereby

give you orders, O Pompey, to defend your country, to employ

the troops you now command, and to levy more."  Lentulus,

consul elect for the year following, spoke to the same purpose.

Antony, however, contrary to the will of the senate, having in

a public assembly read a letter of Caesar's, containing various

plausible overtures such as were likely to gain the common

people, proposing, namely, that both Pompey and he quitting

their governments, and dismissing their armies, should submit

to the judgment of the people, and give an account of their

actions before them, the consequence was that when Pompey began

to make his levies, he found himself disappointed in his

expectations.  Some few, indeed, came in, but those very

unwillingly; others would not answer to their names, and the

generality cried out for peace.  Lentulus, notwithstanding he

was now entered upon his consulship, would not assemble the

senate; but Cicero, who was lately returned from Cilicia,

labored for a reconciliation, proposing that Caesar should

leave his province of Gaul and army, reserving two legions

only, together with the government of Illyricum, and should

thus be put in nomination for a second consulship.  Pompey

disliking this motion, Caesar's friends were contented that he

should surrender one of the two; but Lentulus still opposing,

and Cato crying out that Pompey did ill to be deceived again,

the reconciliation did not take effect.

In the meantime, news was brought that Caesar had occupied

Ariminum, a great city in Italy, and was marching directly

towards Rome with all his forces.  But this latter was

altogether false, for he had no more with him at that time than

three hundred horse and five thousand foot; and he did not mean

to tarry for the body of his army, which lay beyond the Alps,

choosing rather to fall in on a sudden upon his enemies, while

they were in confusion, and did not expect him, than to give

them time, and fight them after they had made preparations.

For when he came to the banks of the Rubicon, a river that

made the bounds of his province, there he made a halt, pausing

a little, and considering, we may suppose, with himself the

greatness of the enterprise which he had undertaken; then, at

last, like men that are throwing themselves headlong from some

precipice into a vast abyss, having shut, as it were, his

mind's eyes and put away from his sight the idea of danger, he

merely uttered to those near him in Greek the words,

"Anerriphtho kubos," (let the die be cast,) and led his army

through it.  No sooner was the news arrived, but there was an

uproar throughout all the city, and a consternation in the

people even to astonishment, such as never was known in Rome

before; all the senate ran immediately to Pompey, and the

magistrates followed.  And when Tullus made inquiry about his

legions and forces, Pompey seemed to pause a little, and

answered with some hesitation, that he had those two legions

ready that Caesar sent back, and that out of the men who had

been previously enrolled he believed he could shortly make up a

body of thirty thousand men.  On which Tullus crying out aloud,

"O Pompey, you have deceived us," gave his advice to send off a

deputation to Caesar.  Favonius, a man of fair character,

except that he used to suppose his own petulance and abusive

talking a copy of Cato's straight-forwardness, bade Pompey

stamp upon the ground, and call forth the forces he had

promised.  But Pompey bore patiently with this unseasonable

raillery; and on Cato putting him in mind of what he had

foretold from the very beginning about Caesar, made this answer

only, that Cato indeed had spoken more like a prophet, but he

had acted more like a friend.  Cato then advised them to choose

Pompey general with absolute power and authority, saying that

the same men who do great evils, know best how to cure them.

He himself went his way forthwith into Sicily, the province

that was allotted him, and all the rest of the senators

likewise departed every one to his respective government.

Thus all Italy in a manner being up in arms, no one could say

what was best to be done.  For those that were without, came

from all parts flocking into the city; and they who were

within, seeing the confusion and disorder so great there, all

good things impotent, and disobedience and insubordination

grown too strong to be controlled by the magistrates, were

quitting it as fast as the others came in.  Nay, it was so far

from being possible to allay their fears, that they would not

suffer Pompey to follow out his own judgment, but every man

pressed and urged him according to his particular fancy,

whether it proceeded from doubt, fear, grief, or any meaner

passion; so that even in the same day quite contrary counsels

were acted upon.  Then, again, it was as impossible to have any

good intelligence of the enemy; for what each man heard by

chance upon a flying rumor, he would report for truth, and

exclaim against Pompey if he did not believe it.  Pompey, at

length, seeing such a confusion in Rome, determined with

himself to put an end to their clamors by his departure, and

therefore commanding all the senate to follow him, and

declaring, that whosoever tarried behind, should be judged a

confederate of Caesar's, about the dusk of the evening he went

out and left the city.  The consuls also followed after in a

hurry, without offering the sacrifices to the gods, usual

before a war.  But in all this, Pompey himself had the glory,

that in the midst of such calamities, he had so much of men's

love and good-will.  For though many found fault with the

conduct of the war, yet no man hated the general; and there

were more to be found of those that went out of Rome, because

that they could not forsake Pompey, than of those that fled for

love of liberty.

Some few days after Pompey was gone out, Caesar came into the

city, and made himself master of it, treating everyone with a

great deal of courtesy, and appeasing their fears, except only

Metellus, one of the tribunes; on whose refusing to let him

take any money out of the treasury, Caesar threatened him with

death, adding words yet harsher than the threat, that it was

far easier for him to do it than say it.  By this means

removing Metellus, and taking what moneys were of use for his

occasions, he set forwards in pursuit of Pompey, endeavoring

with all speed to drive him out of Italy before his army, that

was in Spain, could join him.

But Pompey arriving at Brundusium, and having plenty of ships

there, bade the two consuls embark immediately, and with them

shipped thirty cohorts of foot, bound before him for

Dyrrhachium.  He sent likewise his father-in-law Scipio, and

Cnaeus his son, into Syria, to provide and fit out a fleet

there; himself in the meantime having blocked up the gates,

placed his lightest soldiers as guards upon the walls; and

giving express orders that the citizens should keep within

doors, he dug up all the ground inside the city, cutting

trenches, and fixing stakes and palisades throughout all the

streets of the city, except only two that led down to the

sea-side.  Thus in three days space having with ease put all

the rest of his army on shipboard, he suddenly gave the signal

to those that guarded the walls, who nimbly repairing to the

ships, were received on board and carried off.  Caesar meantime

perceiving their departure by seeing the walls unguarded,

hastened after, and in the heat of pursuit was all but

entangled himself among the stakes and trenches.  But the

Brundusians discovering the danger to him, and showing him the

way, he wheeled about, and taking a circuit round the city,

made towards the haven, where he found all the ships on their

way, excepting only two vessels that had but a few soldiers

aboard.

Most are of opinion, that this departure of Pompey's is to be

counted among the best of his military performances, but Caesar

himself could not but wonder that he, who was thus ingarrisoned

in a city well fortified, who was in expectation of his forces

from Spain, and was master of the sea besides, should leave and

abandon Italy.  Cicero accuses him of imitating the conduct of

Themistocles, rather than of Pericles, when the circumstances

were more like those of Pericles than they were like those of

Themistocles.  However, it appeared plainly, and Caesar showed

it by his actions, that he was in great fear of delay, for when

he had taken Numerius, a friend of Pompey's, prisoner, he sent

him as an ambassador to Brundusium, with offers of peace and

reconciliation upon equal terms; but Numerius sailed away with

Pompey.  And now Caesar having become master of all Italy in

sixty days, without a drop of blood shed, had a great desire

forthwith to follow Pompey; but being destitute of shipping, he

was forced to divert his course, and march into Spain,

designing to bring over Pompey's forces there to his own.

In the meantime Pompey raised a mighty army both by sea and

land.  As for his navy, it was irresistible.  For there were

five hundred men of war, besides an infinite company of light

vessels, Liburnians, and others; and for his land forces, the

cavalry made up a body of seven thousand horse, the very flower

of Rome and Italy, men of family, wealth, and high spirit; but

the infantry was a mixture of unexperienced soldiers drawn from

different quarters, and these he exercised and trained near

Beroea, where he quartered his army; himself noways slothful,

but performing all his exercises as if he had been in the flower

of his youth, conduct which raised the spirits of his soldiers

extremely.  For it was no small encouragement for them to see

Pompey the Great, sixty years of age wanting two, at one time

handling his arms among the foot, then again mounted among the

horse, drawing out his sword with ease in full career, and

sheathing it up as easily; and in darting the javelin, showing

not only skill and dexterity in hitting the mark, but also

strength and activity in throwing it so far that few of the

young men went beyond him.

Several kings and princes of nations came thither to him, and

there was a concourse of Roman citizens who had held the

magistracies, so numerous that they made up a complete senate.

Labienus forsook his old friend Caesar, whom he had served

throughout all his wars in Gaul, and came over to Pompey; and

Brutus, son to that Brutus that was put to death in Gaul, a man

of a high spirit, and one that to that day had never so much as

saluted or spoke to Pompey, looking upon him as the murderer of

his father, came then and submitted himself to him as the

defender of their liberty.  Cicero likewise, though he had

written and advised otherwise, yet was ashamed not to be

accounted in the number of those that would hazard their lives

and fortunes for the safeguard of their country.  There came to

him also into Macedonia, Tidius Sextius, a man extremely old,

and lame of one leg; so that others indeed mocked and laughed

at the spectacle, but Pompey, as soon as he saw him, rose and

ran to meet him, esteeming it no small testimony in his favor,

when men of such age and infirmities should rather choose to be

with him in danger, than in safety at home.  Afterwards in a

meeting of their senate they passed a decree, on the motion of

Cato, that no Roman citizen should be put to death but in

battle, and that they should not sack or plunder any city that

was subject to the Roman empire, a resolution which gained

Pompey's party still greater reputation, insomuch that those

who were noways at all concerned in the war, either because

they dwelt afar off, or were thought incapable of giving help,

were yet, in their good wishes, upon his side, and in all their

words, so far as that went, supported the good or just cause,

as they called it; esteeming those as enemies to the gods and

men, that wished not victory to Pompey.

Neither was Pompey's clemency such, but that Caesar likewise

showed himself as merciful a conqueror; for when he had taken

and overthrown all Pompey's forces in Spain, he gave them easy

terms, leaving the commanders at their liberty, and taking the

common soldiers into his own pay.  Then repassing the Alps, and

making a running march through Italy, he came to Brundusium

about the winter solstice, and crossing the sea there, landed

at the port of Oricum.  And having Jubius, an intimate friend

of Pompey's, with him as his prisoner, he dispatched him to

Pompey with an invitation, that they, meeting together in a

conference, should disband both their armies within three days,

and renewing their former friendship with solemn oaths, should

return together into Italy.  Pompey looked upon this again as

some new stratagem, and therefore marching down in all haste to

the sea-coast, possessed himself of all forts and places of

strength suitable to encamp in, and to secure his laud forces,

as likewise of all ports and harbors commodious to receive any

that came by sea, so that what wind soever blew, it must needs

in some way or other be favorable to him, bringing in either

provision, men, or money; while Caesar, on the contrary, was so

hemmed in both by sea and land, that he was forced to desire

battle, daily provoking the enemy, and assailing them in their

very forts; and in these light skirmishes for the most part had

the better.  Once only he was dangerously overthrown, and was

within a little of losing his whole army, Pompey having fought

nobly, routing the whole force, and killing two thousand on the

spot.  But either he was not able, or was afraid, to go on and

force his way into their camp with them, so that Caesar made

the remark, that "Today the victory had been the enemy's, had

there been anyone among them to gain it."  Pompey's soldiers

were so encouraged by this victory that they were eager now to

have all put to the decision of a battle; but Pompey himself,

though he wrote to distant kings, generals, and states in

confederacy with him, as a conqueror, yet was afraid to hazard

the success of a battle, choosing rather by delays, and

distress of provisions, to tire out a body of men, who had

never yet been conquered by force of arms, and had long been

used to fight and conquer together; while their time of life,

now an advanced one, which made them quickly weary of those

other hardships of war, such as were long marches, and frequent

decampings, making trenches, and building fortifications, made

them eager to come to close combat and venture a battle with

all speed.

Pompey had all along hitherto by his persuasions pretty well

quieted his soldiers; but after this last engagement, when

Caesar for want of provisions was forced to raise his camp, and

passed through Athamania into Thessaly, it was impossible to

curb or allay the heat of their spirits any longer.  For all

crying out with a general voice, that Caesar was fled, some

were for pursuing and pressing upon him, others for returning

into Italy; some there were that sent their friends and

servants beforehand to Rome, to hire houses near the forum,

that they might be in readiness to sue for offices; several of

their own motion sailed off at once to Lesbos to carry to

Cornelia, (whom Pompey had conveyed thither to be in safety,)

the joyful news, that the war was ended.  And a senate being

called, and the matter being under debate, Afranius was of

opinion, that Italy should first be regained, for that it was

the grand prize and crown of all the war; and they who were

masters of that, would quickly have at their devotion all the

provinces of Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Spain, and Gaul; but

what was of greatest weight and moment to Pompey, it was his

own native country that lay near, reaching out her hand for his

help; and certainly it could not be consistent with his honor

to leave her thus exposed to all indignities, and in bondage

under slaves and the flatterers of a tyrant.  But Pompey

himself, on the contrary, thought it neither honorable to fly a

second time before Caesar, and be pursued, when fortune had

given him the advantage of a pursuit; nor indeed lawful before

the gods to forsake Scipio and divers other men of consular

dignity dispersed throughout Greece and Thessaly, who must

necessarily fall into Caesar's hands, together with large sums

of money and numerous forces; and as to his care for the city

of Rome, that would most eminently appear, by removing the

scene of war to a greater distance, and leaving her, without

feeling the distress or even hearing the sound of these evils,

to await in peace the return of whichever should be the victor.

With this determination, Pompey marched forwards in pursuit of

Caesar, firmly resolved with himself not to give him battle,

but rather to besiege and distress him, by keeping close at his

heels, and cutting him short.  There were other reasons that

made him continue this resolution, but especially because a

saying that was current among the Romans serving in the cavalry

came to his ear, to the effect, that they ought to beat Caesar

as soon as possible, and then humble Pompey too.  And some

report, it was for this reason that Pompey never employed Cato

in any matter of consequence during the whole war, but now when

he pursued Caesar, left him to guard his baggage by sea,

fearing lest, if Caesar should be taken off, he himself also by

Cato's means not long after should be forced to give up his

power.

Whilst he was thus slowly attending the motions of the enemy,

he was exposed on all sides to outcries, and imputations of

using his generalship to defeat, not Caesar, but his country

and the senate, that he might always continue in authority, and

never cease to keep those for his guards and servants, who

themselves claimed to govern the world.  Domitius Aenobarbus,

continually calling him Agamemnon, and king of kings, excited

jealousy against him; and Favonius, by his unseasonable

raillery, did him no less injury than those who openly attacked

him, as when he cried out, "Good friends, you must not expect

to gather any figs in Tusculum this year."  But Lucius

Afranius, who had lain under an imputation of treachery for the

loss of the army in Spain, when he saw Pompey purposely

declining an engagement, declared openly, that he could not but

admire, why those who were so ready to accuse him, did not go

themselves and fight this buyer and seller of their provinces.

With these and many such speeches they wrought upon Pompey, who

never could bear reproach, or resist the expectations of his

friends; and thus they forced him to break his measures, so

that he forsook his own prudent resolution to follow their vain

hopes and desires:  weakness that would have been blamable ill

the pilot of a ship, how much more in the sovereign commander

of such an army, and so many nations.  But he, though he had

often commended those physicians who did not comply with the

capricious appetites of their patients, yet himself could not

but yield to the malady and disease of his companions and

advisers in the war, rather than use some severity in their

cure.  Truly who could have said that health was not disordered

and a cure not required in the case of men who went up and down

the camp, suing already for the consulship and office of

praetor, while Spinther, Domitius, and Scipio made friends,

raised factions, and quarrelled among themselves, who should

succeed Caesar in the dignity of his high-priesthood, esteeming

all as lightly, as if they were to engage only with Tigranes,

king of Armenia, or some petty Nabathaean king, not with that

Caesar and his army that had stormed a thousand towns, and

subdued more than three hundred several nations; that had

fought innumerable battles with the Germans and Gauls, and

always carried the victory; that had taken a million of men

prisoners, and slain as many upon the spot in pitched battles?

But they went on soliciting and clamoring, and on reaching the

plain of Pharsalia, they forced Pompey by their pressure and

importunities to call a council of war, where Labienus, general

of the horse, stood up first and swore that he would not return

out of the battle if he did not rout the enemies; and a]l the

rest took the same oath.  That night Pompey dreamed that as he

went into the theater, the people received him with great

applause, and that he himself adorned the temple of Venus the

Victorious, with many spoils.  This vision partly encouraged,

but partly also disheartened him, fearing lest that splendor

and ornament to Venus should be made with spoils furnished by

himself to Caesar, who derived his family from that goddess.

Besides there were some panic fears and alarms that ran through

the camp, with such a noise that it awaked him out of his

sleep.  And about the time of renewing the watch towards

morning, there appeared a great light over Caesar's camp,

whilst they were all at rest, and from thence a ball of flaming

fire was carried into Pompey's camp, which Caesar himself says

he saw, as he was walking his rounds.

Now Caesar having designed to raise his camp with the morning

and move to Scotussa, whilst the soldiers were busy in pulling

down their tents, and sending on their cattle and servants

before them with their baggage, there came in scouts who

brought word that they saw arms carried to and fro in the

enemy's camp, and heard a noise and running up and down, as of

men preparing for battle; not long after there came in other

scouts with further intelligence, that the first ranks were

already set in battle array.  Thereupon Caesar, when he had

told them that the wished for day was come at last, when they

should fight with men, not with hunger and famine, instantly

gave orders for the red colors to be set up before his tent,

that being the ordinary signal of battle among the Romans.  As

soon as the soldiers saw that, they left their tents, and with

great shouts of joy ran to their arms; the officers, likewise,

on their parts drawing up their companies in order of battle,

every man fell into his proper rank without any trouble or

noise, as quietly and orderly as if they had been in a dance.

Pompey himself led the right wing of his army against Antony,

and placed his father-in-law Scipio in the middle against

Lucius Calvinus.  The left wing was commanded by Lucius

Domitius; and supported by the great mass of the horse.  For

almost the whole cavalry was posted there, in the hope of

crushing Caesar, and cutting off the tenth legion, which was

spoken of as the stoutest in all the army, and in which Caesar

himself usually fought in person.  Caesar observing the left

wing of the enemy to be lined and fortified with such a mighty

guard of horse, and alarmed at the gallantry of their

appearance, sent for a detachment of six cohorts out of the

reserves, and placed them in the rear of the tenth legion,

commanding them not to stir, lest they should be discovered by

the enemy; but when the enemy's horse should begin to charge,

and press upon them, that they should make up with all speed to

the front through the foremost ranks, and not throw their

javelins at a distance, as is usual with brave soldiers, that

they may come to a close fight with their swords the sooner,

but that they should strike them upwards into the eyes and

faces of the enemy; telling them that those fine young dancers

would never endure the steel shining in their eyes, but would

fly to save their handsome faces.  This was Caesar's employment

at that time.  But while he was thus instructing his soldiers,

Pompey on horseback was viewing the order of both armies, and

when he saw how well the enemy kept their ranks, expecting

quietly the signal of battle; and, on the contrary, how

impatient and unsteady his own men were, waving up and down in

disorder for want of experience, he was very much afraid that

their ranks would be broken upon the first onset; and therefore

he gave out orders that the van should make a stand, and

keeping close in their ranks, should receive the enemy's

charge.  Caesar much condemns this command; which he says not

only took off from the strength of the blows, which would

otherwise have been made with a spring; but also lost the men

the impetus, which, more than anything, in the moment of their

coming upon the enemy, fills soldiers with impulse and

inspiration, the very shouts and rapid pace adding to their

fury; of which Pompey deprived his men, arresting them in their

course and cooling down their heat.

Caesar's army consisted of twenty-two thousand, and Pompey's of

somewhat above twice as many.  When the signal of battle was

given on both sides, and the trumpets began to sound a charge,

most men of course were fully occupied with their own matters;

only some few of the noblest Romans, together with certain

Greeks there present, standing as spectators without the

battle, seeing the armies now ready to join, could not but

consider in themselves to what a pass private ambition and

emulation had brought the empire.  Common arms, and kindred

ranks drawn up under the self-same standards, the whole flower

and strength of the same single city here meeting in collision

with itself, offered plain proof how blind and how mad a thing

human nature is, when once possessed with any passion; for if

they had been desirous only to rule, and enjoy in peace what

they had conquered in war, the greatest and best part of the

world was subject to them both by sea and land.  But if there

was yet a thirst in their ambition, that must still be fed with

new trophies and triumphs, the Parthian and German wars would

yield matter enough to satisfy the most covetous of honor.

Scythia, moreover, was yet unconquered, and the Indians too,

where their ambition might be colored over with the specious

pretext of civilizing barbarous nations.  And what Scythian

horse, Parthian arrows, or Indian riches, could be able to

resist seventy thousand Roman soldiers, well appointed in arms,

under the command of two such generals as Pompey and Caesar,

whose names they had heard of before that of the Romans, and

whose prowess, by their conquests of such wild, remote, savage,

and brutish nations, was spread further than the fame of the

Romans themselves?  Today they met in conflict, and could no

longer be induced to spare their country, even out of regard

for their own glory or the fear of losing the name which till

this day both had held, of having never yet been defeated.  As

for their former private ties, and the charms of Julia, and the

marriage that had made them near connections, these could now

only be looked upon as tricks of state, the mere securities of

a treaty made to serve the needs of an occasion, not the

pledges of any real friendship.

Now, therefore, as soon as the plains of Pharsalia were covered

with men, horse, and armor, and that the signal of battle was

raised on either side, Caius Crassianus, a centurion, who

commanded a company of one hundred and twenty men, was the

first that advanced out of Caesar's army, to give the charge,

and acquit himself of a solemn engagement that he had made to

Caesar.  He had been the first man that Caesar had seen going

out of the camp in the morning, and Caesar, after saluting him,

had asked him what he thought of the coming battle.  To which

he, stretching out his right hand, replied aloud, "Thine is the

victory, O Caesar, thou shalt conquer gloriously, and I myself

this day will be the subject of thy praise either alive or

dead."  In pursuance of this promise he hastened forward, and

being followed by many more, charged into the midst of the

enemy.  There they came at once to a close fight with their

swords, and made a great slaughter; but as he was still

pressing forward, and breaking the ranks of the vanguard, one

of Pompey's soldiers ran him in at the mouth, so that the point

of the sword came out behind at his neck; and Crassianus being

thus slain, the fight became doubtful, and continued equal on

that part of the battle.

Pompey had not yet brought on the right wing, but stayed and

looked about, waiting to see what execution his cavalry would

do on the left.  They had already drawn out their squadrons in

form, designing to turn Caesar's flank, and force those few

horse, which he had placed in the front, to give back upon the

battalion of foot.  But Caesar, on the other side, having given

the signal, his horse retreated back a little, and gave way to

those six subsidiary cohorts, which had been posted in the

rear, as a reserve to cover the flank; and which now came out,

three thousand men in number, and met the enemy; and when they

came up, standing by the horses, struck their javelins upwards,

according to their instructions, and hit the horsemen full in

their faces.  They, unskillful in any manner of fight, and

least of all expecting or understanding such a kind as this,

had not courage enough to endure the blows upon their faces,

but turning their backs, and covering their eyes with their

hands, shamefully took to flight.  Caesar's men, however, did

not follow them, but marched upon the foot, and attacked the

wing, which the flight of the cavalry had left unprotected, and

liable to be turned and taken in the rear, so that this wing

now being attacked in the flank by these, and charged in the

front by the tenth legion, was not able to abide the charge, or

make any longer resistance, especially when they saw themselves

surrounded and circumvented in the very way in which they had

designed to invest the enemy.  Thus these being likewise routed

and put to flight, when Pompey, by the dust flying in the air,

conjectured the fate of his horse, it were very hard to say

what his thoughts or intentions were, but looking like one

distracted and beside himself, and without any recollection or

reflection that he was Pompey the Great, he retired slowly

towards his camp, without speaking a word to any man, exactly

according to the description in the verses,

But Jove from heaven struck Ajax with a fear;

Ajax the bold then stood astonished there,

Flung o'er his back the mighty sevenfold shield,

And trembling gazed and spied about the field.

In this state and condition he went into his own tent, and sat

down, speechless still, until some of the enemy fell in

together with his men that were flying into the camp, and then

he let fall only this one word, "What?  into the very camp?"

and said no more; but rose up, and putting on a dress suitable

to his present fortune, made his way secretly out.

By this time the rest of the army was put to flight, and there

was a great slaughter in the camp among the servants and those

that guarded the tents, but of the soldiers themselves there

were not above six thousand slain, as is stated by Asinius

Pollio, who himself fought in this battle on Caesar's side.

When Caesar's soldiers had taken the camp, they saw clearly the

folly and vanity of the enemy; for all their tents and

pavilions were richly set out with garlands of myrtle,

embroidered carpets and hangings, and tables laid and covered

with goblets.  There were large bowls of wine ready, and

everything prepared and put in array, in the manner rather of

people who had offered sacrifice and were going to celebrate a

holiday, than of soldiers who had armed themselves to go out to

battle, so possessed with the expectation of success and so

full of empty confidence had they gone out that morning.

When Pompey had got a little way from the camp, he dismounted

and forsook his horse, having but a small retinue with him; and

finding that no man pursued him, walked on softly afoot, taken

up altogether with thoughts, such as probably might possess a

man that for the space of thirty-four years together had been

accustomed to conquest and victory, and was then at last, in

his old age, learning for the first time what defeat and flight

were.  And it was no small affliction to consider, that he had

lost in one hour all that glory and power, which he had been

getting in so many wars, and bloody battles; and that he who

but a little before was guarded with such an army of foot, so

many squadrons of horse, and such a mighty fleet, was now

flying in so mean a condition, and with such a slender retinue,

that his very enemies who fought him could not know him.  Thus,

when he had passed by the city of Larissa, and came into the

pass of Tempe, being very thirsty, he kneeled down and drank

out of the river; then rising up again, he passed through

Tempe, until he came to the seaside, and there he betook

himself to a poor fisherman's cottage, where he rested the

remainder of the night.  The next morning about break of day he

went into one of the river boats, and taking none of those that

followed him except such as were free, dismissed his servants,

advising them to go boldly to Caesar, and not be afraid.  As he

was rowing up and down near the shore, he chanced to spy a

large merchant-ship, lying off, just ready to set sail; the

master of which was a Roman citizen, named Peticius, who,

though he was not familiarly acquainted with Pompey, yet knew

him well by sight.  Now it happened that this Peticius dreamed,

the night before, that he saw Pompey, not like the man he had

often seen him, but in a humble and dejected condition, and in

that posture discoursing with him.  He was then telling his

dream to the people on board, as men do when at leisure, and

especially dreams of that consequence, when of a sudden one of

the mariners told him, he saw a river boat with oars putting

off from shore, and that some of the men there shook their

garments, and held out their hands, with signs to take them in;

thereupon Peticius looking attentively, at once recognized

Pompey, just as he appeared in his dream, and smiting his hand

on his head, ordered the mariners to let down the ship's boat,

he himself waving his hand, and calling to him by his name,

already assured of his change and the change of his fortune by

that of his garb.  So that without waiting for any further

entreaty or discourse, he took him into his ship, together with

as many of his company as he thought fit, and hoisted sail.

There were with him the two Lentuli, and Favonius; and a little

after they spied king Deiotarus, making up towards them from

the shore; so they stayed and took him in along with them.  At

supper time, the master of the ship having made ready such

provisions as he had aboard, Pompey, for want of his servants,

began to undo his shoes himself; which Favonius noticing ran to

him and undid them, and helped him to anoint himself, and

always after continued to wait upon, and attend him in all

things, as servants do their masters, even to the washing of

his feet, and preparing his supper.  Insomuch that anyone

there present, observing the free and unaffected courtesy of

these services, might have well exclaimed,

O heavens, in those that noble are,

Whate'er they do is fit and fair.

Pompey, sailing by the city of Amphipolis, crossed over from

thence to Mitylene, with a design to take in Cornelia and his

son; and as soon as he arrived at the port in that island, he

dispatched a messenger into the city, with news very different

from Cornelia's expectation.  For she, by all the former

messages and letters sent to please her, had been put in hopes

that the war was ended at Dyrrhachium, and that there was

nothing more remaining for Pompey, but the pursuit of Caesar.

The messenger finding her in the same hopes still, was not able

to salute or speak to her, but declaring the greatness of her

misfortune by his tears rather than by his words, desired her

to make haste if she would see Pompey, with one ship only, and

that not of his own.  The young lady hearing this, fell down in

a swoon, and continued a long time senseless and speechless.

And when with some trouble she was brought to her senses again,

being conscious to herself that this was no time for

lamentation and tears, she started up and ran through the city

towards the seaside, where Pompey meeting and embracing her, as

she sank down, supported by his arms, "This, sir," she

exclaimed, "is the effect of my fortune, not of yours, that I

see you thus reduced to one poor vessel, who before your

marriage with Cornelia, were wont to sail in these seas with a

fleet of five hundred ships.  Why therefore should you come to

see me, or why not rather have left to her evil genius one who

has brought upon you her own ill-fortune?  How happy a woman

had I been, if I had breathed out my last, before the news came

from Parthia of the death of Publius, the husband of my youth,

and how prudent if I had followed his destiny, as I designed!

But I was reserved for a greater mischief, even the ruin of

Pompey the Great."

Thus, they say, Cornelia spoke to him, and this was Pompey's

reply:  "You have had, Cornelia, but one season of a better

fortune, which it may be, gave you unfounded hopes, by

attending me a longer time than is usual.  It behoves us, who

are mortals born, to endure these events, and to try fortune

yet again; neither is it any less possible to recover our

former state, than it was to fall from that into this."

Thereupon Cornelia sent for her servants and baggage out of the

city.  The citizens also of Mitylene came out to salute and

invite Pompey into the city, but he refused, advising them to

be obedient to the conqueror, and fear not, for that Caesar was

a man of great goodness and clemency.  Then turning to

Cratippus, the philosopher, who came among the rest out of the

city to visit him, he began to find some fault, and briefly

argued with him upon Providence, but Cratippus modestly

declined the dispute, putting him in better hopes only, lest by

opposing, he might seem too austere or unseasonable.  For he

might have put Pompey a question in his turn, in defense of

Providence; and might have demonstrated the necessity there was

that the commonwealth should be turned into a monarchy, because

of their ill government in the state; and could have asked,

"How, O Pompey, and by what token or assurance can we

ascertain, that if the victory had been yours, you would have

used your fortune better than Caesar?  We must leave the divine

power to act as we find it do."

Pompey having taken his wife and friends aboard, set sail,

making no port, nor touching anywhere, but when he was

necessitated to take in provisions, or fresh water.  The first

city he entered was Attalia, in Pamphylia, and whilst he was

there, there came some galleys thither to him out of Cilicia,

together with a small body of soldiers, and he had almost sixty

senators with him again; then hearing that his navy was safe

too, and that Cato had rallied a considerable body of soldiers

after their overthrow, and was crossing with them over into

Africa, he began to complain and blame himself to his friends

that he had allowed himself to be driven into engaging by land,

without making use of his other forces, in which he was

irresistibly the stronger, and had not kept near enough to his

fleet, that failing by land, he might have reinforced himself

from the sea, and would have been again at the head of a power

quite sufficient to encounter the enemy on equal terms.  And in

truth, neither did Pompey during all the war commit a greater

oversight, nor Caesar use a more subtle stratagem, than in

drawing the fight so far off from the naval forces.

As it now was, however, since he must come to some decision,

and try some plan within his present ability, he dispatched his

agents to the neighboring cities, and himself sailed about in

person to others, requiring their aid in money and men for his

ships.  But, fearing lest the rapid approach of the enemy might

cut off all his preparations, he began to consider what place

would yield him the safest refuge and retreat at present.  A

consultation was held, and it was generally agreed that no

province of the Romans was secure enough.  As for foreign

kingdoms, he himself was of opinion, that Parthia would be the

fittest to receive and defend them in their present weakness,

and best able to furnish them with new means and send them out

again with large forces.  Others of the council were for going

into Africa, and to king Juba.  But Theophanes the Lesbian,

thought it madness to leave Egypt, that was but at a distance

of three days' sailing, and make no use of Ptolemy, who was

still a boy, and was highly indebted to Pompey for the

friendship and favor he had shown to his father, only to put

himself under the Parthian, and trust the most treacherous

nation in the world; and rather than make any trial of the

clemency of a Roman, and his own near connection, to whom if he

would but yield to be second, he might be the first and chief

over all the rest, to go and place himself at the mercy of

Arsaces, which even Crassus had not submitted to, while alive;

and, moreover, to expose his young wife, of the family of the

Scipios, among a barbarous people, who govern by their lusts,

and measure their greatness by their power to commit affronts

and insolencies; from whom, though she suffered no dishonor,

yet it might be thought she did, being in the hands of those

who had the power to do it.  This argument alone, they say, was

persuasive enough to divert his course, that was designed

towards Euphrates, if it were so indeed that any counsel of

Pompey's, and not some superior power, made him take this other

way.

As soon, therefore, as it was resolved upon, that he should fly

into Egypt, setting sail from Cyprus in a galley of Seleucia,

together with Cornelia, while the rest of his company sailed

along near him, some in ships of war, and others in merchant

vessels, he passed over sea without danger.  But on hearing

that king Ptolemy was posted with his army at the city of

Pelusium, making war against his sister, he steered his course

that way, and sent a messenger before to acquaint the king with

his arrival, and to crave his protection.  Ptolemy himself was

quite young, and therefore Pothinus, who had the principal

administration of all affairs, called a council of the chief

men, those being the greatest whom he pleased to make so, and

commanded them every man to deliver his opinion touching the

reception of Pompey.  It was, indeed, a miserable thing, that

the fate of the great Pompey should be left to the

determinations of Pothinus the eunuch, Theodotus of Chios, the

paid rhetoric master, and Achillas the Egyptian.  For these,

among the chamberlains and menial domestics, that made up the

rest of the council, were the chief and leading men.  Pompey,

who thought it dishonorable for him to owe his safety to

Caesar, riding at anchor at a distance from shore, was forced

to wait the sentence of this tribunal.  It seems they were so

far different in their opinions that some were for sending the

man away, and others again for inviting and receiving him; but

Theodotus, to show his cleverness and the cogency of his

rhetoric, undertook to demonstrate, that neither the one nor

the other was safe in that juncture of affairs.  For if they

entertained him, they would be sure to make Caesar their enemy,

and Pompey their master; or if they dismissed him, they might

render themselves hereafter obnoxious to Pompey, for that

inhospitable expulsion, and to Caesar, for the escape; so that

the most expedient course would be to send for him and take

away his life, for by that means they would ingratiate

themselves with the one, and have no reason to fear the other;

adding, it is related, with a smile, that "a dead man cannot

bite."

This advice being approved of, they committed the execution of

it to Achillas.  He, therefore, taking with him as his

accomplices one Septimius, a man that had formerly held a

command under Pompey, and Salvius, another centurion, with

three or four attendants, made up towards Pompey's galley.  In

the meantime, all the chiefest of those who accompanied Pompey

in this voyage, were come into his ship to learn the event of

their embassy.  But when they saw the manner of their

reception, that in appearance it was neither princely nor

honorable, nor indeed in any way answerable to the hopes of

Theophanes, or their expectation, (for there came but a few men

in a fisherman's boat to meet them,) they began to suspect the

meanness of their entertainment, and gave warning to Pompey

that he should row back his galley, whilst he was out of their

reach, and make for the sea.  By this time, the Egyptian boat

drew near, and Septimius standing up first, saluted Pompey in

the Latin tongue, by the title of imperator.  Then Achillas,

saluting him in the Greek language, desired him to come aboard

his vessel, telling him, that the sea was very shallow towards

the shore, and that a galley of that burden could not avoid

striking upon the sands.  At the same time they saw several of

the king's galleys getting their men on board, and all the

shore covered with soldiers; so that even if they changed their

minds, it seemed impossible for them to escape, and besides,

their distrust would have given the assassins a pretence for

their cruelty.  Pompey, therefore, taking his leave of

Cornelia, who was already lamenting his death before it came,

bade two centurions, with Philip, one of his freedmen, and a

slave called Scythes, go on board the boat before him.  And as

some of the crew with Achillas were reaching out their hands to

help him, he turned about towards his wife and son, and

repeated those iambics of Sophocles,

He that once enters at a tyrant's door,

Becomes a slave, though he were free before.

These were the last words he spoke to his friends, and so he

went aboard.  Observing presently that notwithstanding there

was a considerable distance betwixt his galley and the shore,

yet none of the company addressed any words of friendliness or

welcome to him all the way, he looked earnestly upon Septimius,

and said, "I am not mistaken, surely, in believing you to have

been formerly my fellow-soldier."  But he only nodded with his

head, making no reply at all, nor showing any other courtesy.

Since, therefore, they continued silent, Pompey took a little

book in his hand, in which was written out an address in Greek,

which he intended to make to king Ptolemy, and began to read

it.  When they drew near to the shore, Cornelia, together with

the rest of his friends in the galley, was very impatient to

see the event, and began to take courage at last, when she saw

several of the royal escort coming to meet him, apparently to

give him a more honorable reception; but in the meantime, as

Pompey took Philip by the hand to rise up more easily,

Septimius first stabbed him from behind with his sword; and

after him likewise Salvius and Achillas drew out their swords.

He, therefore, taking up his gown with both hands, drew it over

his face, and neither saying nor doing anything unworthy of

himself, only groaning a little, endured the wounds they gave

him, and so ended his life, in the fifty-ninth year of his age,

the very next day after the day of his birth.

Cornelia, with her company from the galley, seeing him

murdered, gave such a cry that it was heard to the shore, and

weighing anchor with all speed, they hoisted sail, and fled.  A

strong breeze from the shore assisted their flight into the

open sea, so that the Egyptians, though desirous to overtake

them, desisted from the pursuit.  But they cut off Pompey's

head, and threw the rest of his body overboard, leaving it

naked upon the shore, to be viewed by any that had the

curiosity to see so sad a spectacle.  Philip stayed by and

watched till they had glutted their eyes in viewing it; and

then washing it with sea-water, having nothing else, he wrapped

it up in a shirt of his own for a winding-sheet.  Then seeking

up and down about the sands, at last he found some rotten

planks of a little fisher-boat, not much, but yet enough to

make up a funeral pile for a naked body, and that not quite

entire.  As Philip was busy in gathering and putting these old

planks together, an old Roman citizen, who in his youth had

served in the wars under Pompey, came up to him and demanded,

who he was that was preparing the funeral of Pompey the Great.

And Philip making answer, that he was his freedman, "Nay,

then," said he, "you shall not have this honor alone; let even

me, too, I pray you, have my share in such a pious office.

that I may not altogether repent me of this pilgrimage in a

strange land, but in compensation of many misfortunes, may

obtain this happiness at last, even with mine own hands to

touch the body of Pompey, and do the last duties to the

greatest general among the Romans."  And in this manner were

the obsequies of Pompey performed.  The next day Lucius

Lentulus, not knowing what had passed, came sailing from Cyprus

along the shore of that coast, and seeing a funeral pile, and

Philip standing by, exclaimed, before he was yet seen by any

one, "Who is this that has found his end here?"  adding, after

a short pause, with a sigh, "Possibly even thou, Pompeius

Magnus!"  and so going ashore, he was presently apprehended and

slain.  This was the end of Pompey.

Not long after, Caesar arrived in the country that was polluted

with this foul act, and when one of the Egyptians was sent to

present him with Pompey's head, he turned away from him with

abhorrence as from a murderer; and on receiving his seal, on

which was engraved a lion holding a sword in his paw, he burst

into tears.  Achillas and Pothinus he put to death; and king

Ptolemy himself, being overthrown in battle upon the banks of

the Nile, fled away and was never heard of afterwards.

Theodotus, the rhetorician, flying out of Egypt, escaped the

hands of Caesar's justice, but lived a vagabond in banishment;

wandering up and down, despised and hated of all men, till at

last Marcus Brutus, after he had killed Caesar, finding him in

his province of Asia, put him to death, with every kind of

ignominy.  The ashes of Pompey were carried to his wife

Cornelia, who deposited them at his country house near Alba.

COMPARISON OF POMPEY AND AGESILAUS

Thus having drawn out the history of the lives of Agesilaus and

Pompey, the next thing is to compare them; and in order to this, to

take a cursory view, and bring together the points in which they

chiefly disagree; which are these.  In the first place, Pompey

attained to all his greatness and glory by the fairest and justest

means, owing his advancement to his own efforts, and to the frequent

and important aid which he rendered Sylla, in delivering Italy from

its tyrants.  But Agesilaus appears to have obtained his kingdom,

not without offense both towards gods and towards men, towards

these, by procuring judgment of bastardy against Leotychides, whom

his brother had declared his lawful son, and towards those, by

putting a false gloss upon the oracle, and eluding its sentence

against his lameness.  Secondly, Pompey never ceased to display his

respect for Sylla during his lifetime, and expressed it also after

his death, by enforcing the honorable interment of his corpse, in

despite of Lepidus, and by giving his daughter in marriage to his

son Faustus.  But Agesilaus, upon a slight presence, cast off

Lysander with reproach and dishonor.  Yet Sylla in fact had owed to

Pompey's services, as much as Pompey ever received from him, whereas

Lysander made Agesilaus king of Sparta, and general of all Greece.

Thirdly, Pompey's transgressions of right and justice in his

political life were occasioned chiefly by his relations with other

people, and most of his errors had some affinity, as well as

himself, to Caesar and Scipio, his fathers-in-law.  But Agesilaus,

to gratify the fondness of his son, saved the life of Sphodrias by a

sort of violence, when he deserved death for the wrong he had done

to the Athenians; and when Phoebidas treacherously broke the peace

with Thebes, zealously abetted him for the sake, it was clear, of

the unjust act itself.  In short, what mischief soever Pompey might

be said to have brought on Rome through compliance with the wishes

of his friends or through inadvertency, Agesilaus may be said to

have brought on Sparta out of obstinacy and malice, by kindling the

Boeotian war.  And if, moreover, we are to attribute any part of

these disasters to some personal ill-fortune attaching to the men

themselves, in the case of Pompey, certainly, the Romans had no

reason to anticipate it.  Whereas Agesilaus would not suffer the

Lacedaemonians to avoid what they foresaw and were forewarned must

attend the "lame sovereignty."  For had Leotychides been chargeable

ten thousand times as foreign and spurious, yet the race of the

Eurypontidae was still in being, and could easily have furnished

Sparta with a lawful king, that was sound in his limbs, had not

Lysander darkened and disguised the true sense of the oracle in

favor of Agesilaus.

Such a politic piece of sophistry as was devised by Agesilaus, in

that great perplexity of the people as to the treatment to be given

to those who had played the coward at the battle of Leuctra, when

after that unhappy defeat, he decreed, that the laws should sleep

for that day, it would be hard to find any parallel to; neither

indeed have we the fellow of it in all Pompey's story.  But on the

contrary, Pompey for a friend thought it no sin to break those very

laws which he himself had made; as if to show at once the force of

his friendship, and the greatness of his power; whereas Agesilaus,

under the necessity, as it seemed, of either rescinding the laws, or

not saving the citizens, contrived an expedient by the help of which

the laws should not touch these citizens, and yet should not, to

avoid it, be overthrown.  Then I must commend it as an incomparable

act of civil virtue and obedience in Agesilaus, that immediately

upon the receipt of the scytala, he left the wars in Asia, and

returned into his country.  For he did not like Pompey merely

advance his country's interest by acts that contributed at the same

time to promote his own greatness, but looking to his country's

good, for its sake laid aside as great authority and honor as ever

any man had before or since, except Alexander the Great.

But now to take another point of view, if we sum up Pompey's

military expeditions and exploits of war, the number of his

trophies, and the greatness of the powers which he subdued, and the

multitude of battles in which he triumphed, I am persuaded even

Xenophon himself would not put the victories of Agesilaus in balance

with his, though Xenophon has this privilege allowed him, as a sort

of special reward for his other excellences, that he may write and

speak, in favor of his hero, whatever he pleases.  Methinks, too,

there is a great deal of difference betwixt these men, in their

clemency and moderation towards their enemies.  For Agesilaus, while

attempting to enslave Thebes and exterminate Messene, the latter,

his country's ancient associate, and Thebes, the mother-city of his

own royal house, almost lost Sparta itself, and did really lose the

government of Greece; whereas Pompey gave cities to those of the

pirates who were willing to change their manner of life; and when it

was in his power to lead Tigranes, king of Armenia, in triumph, he

chose rather to make him a confederate of the Romans, saying, that a

single day was worth less than all future time.  But if the

preeminence in that which relates to the office and virtues of a

general, should be determined by the greatest and most important

acts and counsels of war, the Lacedaemonian would not a little

exceed the Roman.  For Agesilaus never deserted his city, though it

was besieged by an army of seventy thousand men, when there were

very few soldiers within to defend it, and those had been defeated

too, but a little before, at the battle of Leuctra.  But Pompey,

when Caesar with a body only of fifty-three hundred men, had taken

but one town in Italy, departed in a panic out of Rome, either

through cowardice, when there were so few, or at least through a

false and mistaken belief that there were more; and having conveyed

away his wife and children, he left all the rest of the citizens

defenseless, and fled; whereas he ought either to have conquered in

fight for the defense of his country, or yielded upon terms to the

conqueror, who was moreover his fellow-citizen, and allied to him;

but now to the same man to whom he refused a prolongation of the

term of his government, and thought it intolerable to grant

another consulship, to him he gave the power, by letting him take

the city, to tell Metellus, together with all the rest, that they

were his prisoners.

That which is chiefly the office of a general, to force the enemy

into fighting when he finds himself the stronger, and to avoid being

driven into it himself when he is the weaker, this excellence

Agesilaus always displayed, and by it kept himself invincible;

whereas in contending with Pompey, Caesar, who was the weaker,

successfully declined the danger, and his own strength being in his

land forces.  drove him into putting the conflict to issue with

these, and thus made himself master of the treasure, stores, and the

sea too, which were all in his enemy's hands, and by the help of

which the victory could have been secured without fighting.  And

what is alleged as an apology in vindication of Pompey, is to a

general of his age and standing the greatest of disgraces.  For,

granting that a young commander might by clamor and outcry be

deprived of his fortitude and strength of mind, and weakly forsake

his better judgment, and the thing be neither strange nor altogether

unpardonable, yet for Pompey the Great, whose camp the Romans called

their country, and his tent the senate, styling the consuls,

praetors, and all other magistrates who were conducting, the

government at Rome, by no better title than that of rebels and

traitors, for him, whom they well knew never to have been under the

command of any but himself, having served all his campaigns under

himself as sole general, for him upon so small a provocation as the

scoffs of Favonius and Domitius, and lest he should bear the

nickname of Agamemnon, to be wrought upon, and even forced to hazard

the whole empire and liberty of Rome upon the cast of a die, was

surely indeed intolerable.  Who, if he had so much regarded a

present infamy, should have guarded the city at first with his arms,

and fought the battle in defense of Rome, not have left it as he

did; nor while declaring his flight from Italy an artifice in the

manner of Themistocles, nevertheless be ashamed in Thessaly of a

prudent delay before engaging.  Heaven had not appointed the

Pharsalian fields to be the stage and theater upon which they should

contend for the empire of Rome, neither was he summoned thither by

any herald upon challenge, with intimation that he must either

undergo the combat, or surrender the prize to another.  There were

many other fields, thousands of cities, and even the whole earth

placed at his command, by the advantage of his fleet, and his

superiority at sea, if he would but have followed the examples of

Maximus, Marius, Lucullus, and even Agesilaus himself, who endured

no less tumults within the city of Sparta, when the Thebans provoked

him to come out and fight in defense of the land, and sustained in

Egypt also numerous calumnies, slanders, and suspicions on the part

of the king, whom he counseled to abstain from a battle.  And thus

following always what he had determined in his own judgment upon

mature advice, by that means he not only preserved the Egyptians,

against their wills, not only kept Sparta, in those desperate

convulsions, by his sole act, safe from overthrow, but even was able

to set up trophies likewise in the city over the Thebans, having

given his countrymen an occasion of being victorious afterwards by

not at first leading them out, as they tried to force him to do to

their own destruction.  The consequence was that in the end

Agesilaus was commended by the very men, when they found themselves

saved, upon whom he had put this compulsion, whereas Pompey, whose

error had been occasioned by others, found those his accusers whose

advice had misled him.  Some indeed profess that he was deceived by

his father-in-law Scipio, who, designing to conceal and keep to

himself the greatest part of that treasure which he had brought out

of Asia, pressed Pompey to battle, upon the pretence that there

would be a want of money.  Yet admitting he was deceived, one in his

place ought not to have been so, nor should have allowed so slight

an artifice to cause the hazard of such mighty interests.  And thus

we have taken a view of each, by comparing together their conduct,

and actions in war.

As to their voyages into Egypt, one steered his course thither out

of necessity in flight; the other neither honorably, nor of

necessity, but as a mercenary soldier, having enlisted himself into

the service of a barbarous nation for pay, that he might be able

afterwards to wage war upon the Greeks.  And secondly, what we

charge upon the Egyptians in the name of Pompey, the Egyptians lay

to the charge of Agesilaus.  Pompey trusted them and was betrayed

and murdered by them; Agesilaus accepted their confidence and

deserted them, transferring his aid to the very enemies who were now

attacking those whom be had been brought over to assist.

ALEXANDER

It being my purpose to write the lives of Alexander the king, and

of Caesar, by whom Pompey was destroyed, the multitude of their

great actions affords so large a field that I were to blame if I

should not by way of apology forewarn my reader that I have chosen

rather to epitomize the most celebrated parts of their story, than

to insist at large on every particular circumstance of it.  It

must be borne in mind that my design is not to write histories,

but lives.  And the most glorious exploits do not always furnish

us with the clearest discoveries of virtue or vice in men;

sometimes a matter of less moment, an expression or a jest,

informs us better of their characters and inclinations, than the

most famous sieges, the greatest armaments, or the bloodiest

battles whatsoever.  Therefore as portrait-painters are more exact

in the lines and features of the face in which the character is

seen, than in the other parts of the body, so I must be allowed to

give my more particular attention to the marks and indications of

the souls of men, and while I endeavor by these to portray their

lives, may be free to leave more weighty matters and great battles

to be treated of by others.

It is agreed on by all hands, that on the father's side, Alexander

descended from Hercules by Caranus, and from Aeacus by Neoptolemus

on the mother's side.  His father Philip, being in Samothrace,

when he was quite young, fell in love there with Olympias, in

company with whom he was initiated in the religious ceremonies of

the country, and her father and mother being both dead, soon

after, with the consent of her brother Arymbas, he married her.

The night before the consummation of their marriage, she dreamed

that a thunderbolt fell upon her body, which kindled a great fire,

whose divided flames dispersed themselves all about, and then were

extinguished.  And Philip some time after he was married, dreamt

that he sealed up his wife's body with a seal, whose impression,

as he fancied, was the figure of a lion.  Some of the diviners

interpreted this as a warning to Philip to look narrowly to his

wife; but Aristander of Telmessus, considering how unusual it was

to seal up anything that was empty, assured him the meaning of

his dream was, that the queen was with child of a boy, who would

one day prove as stout and courageous as a lion.  Once, moreover,

a serpent was found lying by Olympias as she slept, which more

than anything else, it is said, abated Philip's passion for her;

and whether he feared her as an enchantress, or thought she had

commerce with some god, and so looked on himself as excluded, he

was ever after less fond of her conversation.  Others say, that

the women of this country having always been extremely addicted

to the enthusiastic Orphic rites, and the wild worship of Bacchus,

(upon which account they were called Clodones, and Mimallones,)

imitated in many things the practices of the Edonian and Thracian

women about Mount Haemus, from whom the word threskeuein, seems

to have been derived, as a special term for superfluous and

over-curious forms of adoration; and that Olympias, zealously

affecting these fanatical and enthusiastic inspirations, to

perform them with more barbaric dread, was wont in the dances

proper to these ceremonies to have great tame serpents about her,

which sometimes creeping out of the ivy and the mystic fans,

sometimes winding themselves about the sacred spears, and the

women's chaplets, made a spectacle which the men could not look

upon without terror.

Philip, after this vision, sent Chaeron of Megalopolis to consult

the oracle of Apollo at Delphi, by which he was commanded to

perform sacrifice, and henceforth pay particular honor, above all

other gods, to Ammon; and was told he should one day lose that eye

with which he presumed to peep through the chink of the door, when

he saw the god, under the form of a serpent, in the company of his

wife.  Eratosthenes says that Olympias, when she attended

Alexander on his way to the army in his first expedition, told him

the secret of his birth, and bade him behave himself with courage

suitable to his divine extraction.  Others again affirm that she

wholly disclaimed any pretensions of the kind, and was wont to

say, "When will Alexander leave off slandering me to Juno?"

Alexander was born the sixth of Hecatombaeon, which month the

Macedonians call Lous, the same day that the temple of Diana at

Ephesus was burnt; which Hegesias of Magnesia makes the occasion

of a conceit, frigid enough to have stopped the conflagration.

The temple, he says, took fire and was burnt while its mistress

was absent, assisting at the birth of Alexander.  And all the

Eastern soothsayers who happened to be then at Ephesus, looking

upon the ruin of this temple to be the forerunner of some other

calamity, ran about the town, beating their faces, and crying,

that this day had brought forth something that would prove fatal

and destructive to all Asia.

Just after Philip had taken Potidaea, he received these three

messages at one time, that Parmenio had overthrown the Illyrians

in a great battle, that his race-horse had won the course at the

Olympic games, and that his wife had given birth to Alexander;

with which being naturally well pleased, as an addition to his

satisfaction, he was assured by the diviners that a son, whose

birth was accompanied with three such successes, could not fail of

being invincible.

The statues that gave the best representation of Alexander's

person, were those of Lysippus, (by whom alone he would suffer his

image to be made,) those peculiarities which many of his

successors afterwards and his friends used to affect to imitate,

the inclination of his head a little on one side towards his left

shoulder, and his melting eye, having been expressed by this

artist with great exactness.  But Apelles, who drew him with

thunderbolts in his hand, made his complexion browner and darker

than it was naturally; for he was fair and of a light color,

passing into ruddiness in his face and upon his breast.

Aristoxenus in his Memoirs tells us that a most agreeable odor

exhaled from his skin, and that his breath and body all over was

so fragrant as to perfume the clothes which he wore next him; the

cause of which might probably be the hot and adjust temperament of

his body.  For sweet smells, Theophrastus conceives, are produced

by the concoction of moist humors by heat, which is the reason

that those parts of the world which are driest and most burnt up,

afford spices of the best kind, and in the greatest quantity; for

the heat of the sun exhausts all the superfluous moisture which

lies in the surface of bodies, ready to generate putrefaction.

And this hot constitution, it may be, rendered Alexander so

addicted to drinking, and so choleric.  His temperance, as to the

pleasures of the body, was apparent in him in his very childhood,

as he was with much difficulty incited to them, and always used

them with great moderation; though in other things he was

extremely eager and vehement, and in his love of glory, and the

pursuit of it, he showed a solidity of high spirit and magnanimity

far above his age.  For he neither sought nor valued it upon every

occasion, as his father Philip did, (who affected to show his

eloquence almost to a degree of pedantry, and took care to have

the victories of his racing chariots at the Olympic games

engraved on his coin,) but when he was asked by some about him,

whether he would run a race in the Olympic games, as he was very

swift-footed, he answered, he would, if he might have kings to run

with him.  Indeed, he seems in general to have looked with

indifference, if not with dislike, upon the professed athletes.

He often appointed prizes, for which not only tragedians and

musicians, pipers and harpers, but rhapsodists also, strove to

outvie one another; and delighted in all manner of hunting and

cudgel-playing, but never gave any encouragement to contests

either of boxing or of the pancratium.

While he was yet very young, he entertained the ambassadors from

the king of Persia, in the absence of his father, and entering

much into conversation with them, gained so much upon them by his

affability, and the questions he asked them, which were far from

being childish or trifling, (for he inquired of them the length of

the ways, the nature of the road into inner Asia, the character of

their king, how he carried himself to his enemies, and what forces

he was able to bring, into the field,) that they were struck with

admiration of him, and looked upon the ability so much famed of

Philip, to be nothing in comparison with the forwardness and high

purpose that appeared thus early in his son.  Whenever he heard

Philip had taken any town of importance, or won any signal

victory, instead of rejoicing at it altogether, he would tell his

companions that his father would anticipate everything, and leave

him and them no opportunities of performing great and illustrious

actions.  For being more bent upon action and glory than either

upon pleasure or riches, he esteemed all that he should receive

from his father as a diminution and prevention of his own future

achievements; and would have chosen rather to succeed to a kingdom

involved in troubles and wars, which would have afforded him

frequent exercise of his courage, and a large field of honor, than

to one already flourishing and settled, where his inheritance

would be an inactive life, and the mere enjoyment of wealth and

luxury.

The care of his education, as it might be presumed, was committed

to a great many attendants, preceptors, and teachers, over the

whole of whom Leonidas, a near kinsman of Olympias, a man of an

austere temper, presided, who did not indeed himself decline the

name of what in reality is a noble and honorable office, but in

general his dignity, and his near relationship, obtained him from

other people the title of Alexander's foster father and governor.

But he who took upon him the actual place and style of his

pedagogue, was Lysimachus the Acarnanian, who, though he had

nothing specially to recommend him, but his lucky fancy of calling

himself Phoenix, Alexander Achilles, and Philip Peleus, was

therefore well enough esteemed, and ranked in the next degree

after Leonidas.

Philonicus the Thessalian brought the horse Bucephalas to Philip,

offering to sell him for thirteen talents; but when they went into

the field to try him, they found him so very vicious and

unmanageable, that he reared up when they endeavored to mount him,

and would not so much as endure the voice of any of Philip's

attendants.  Upon which, as they were leading him away as wholly

useless and untractable, Alexander, who stood by, said, "What an

excellent horse do they lose, for want of address and boldness to

manage him!"  Philip at first took no notice of what he said; but

when he heard him repeat the same thing several times, and saw he

was much vexed to see the horse sent away, "Do you reproach," said

he to him, "those who are older than yourself, as if you knew

more, and were better able to manage him than they?"  "I could

manage this horse," replied he, "better than others do."  "And if

you do not," said Philip, "what will you forfeit for your

rashness?"  "I will pay," answered Alexander, "the whole price of

the horse."  At this the whole company fell a laughing; and as

soon as the wager was settled amongst them, he immediately ran to

the horse, and taking hold of the bridle, turned him directly

towards the sun, having, it seems, observed that he was disturbed

at and afraid of the motion of his own shadow; then letting him go

forward a little, still keeping the reins in his hand, and

stroking him gently when he found him begin to grow eager and

fiery, he let fall his upper garment softly, and with one nimble

leap securely mounted him, and when he was seated, by little and

little drew in the bridle, and curbed him without either striking

or spurring him.  Presently, when he found him free from all

rebelliousness, and on]y impatient for the course, he let him go

at full speed, inciting him now with a commanding voice, and

urging him also with his heel.  Philip and his friends looked on

at first in silence and anxiety for the result, till seeing him

turn at the end of his career, and come back rejoicing and

triumphing for what he had performed, they all burst out into

acclamations of applause; and his father, shedding tears, it is

said, for joy, kissed him as he came down from his horse, and in

his transport, said, "O my son, look thee out a kingdom equal to

and worthy of thyself, for Macedonia is too little for thee."

After this, considering him to be of a temper easy to be led to

his duty by reason, but by no means to be compelled, he always

endeavored to persuade rather than to command or force him to

anything; and now looking upon the instruction and tuition of his

youth to be of greater difficulty and importance, than to be

wholly trusted to the ordinary masters in music and poetry, and

the common school subjects, and to require, as Sophocles says,

The bridle and the rudder too,

he sent for Aristotle, the most learned and most cerebrated

philosopher of his time, and rewarded him with a munificence

proportionable to and becoming the care he took to instruct his

son.  For he repeopled his native city Stagira, which he had

caused to be demolished a little before, and restored all the

citizens who were in exile or slavery, to their habitations.  As a

place for the pursuit of their studies and exercises, he assigned

the temple of the Nymphs, near Mieza, where, to this very day,

they show you Aristotle's stone seats, and the shady walks which

he was wont to frequent.  It would appear that Alexander received

from him not only his doctrines of Morals, and of Politics, but

also something of those more abstruse and profound theories which

these philosophers, by the very names they gave them, professed

to reserve for oral communication to the initiated, and did not

allow many to become acquainted with.  For when he was in Asia,

and heard Aristotle had published some treatises of that kind, he

wrote to him, using very plain language to him in behalf of

philosophy, the following letter.  "Alexander to Aristotle

greeting.  You have not done well to publish your books of oral

doctrine; for what is there now that we excel others in, if those

things which we have been particularly instructed in be laid open

to all?  For my part, I assure you, I had rather excel others in

the knowledge of what is excellent, than in the extent of my power

and dominion.  Farewell."  And Aristotle, soothing this passion

for preeminence, speaks, in his excuse for himself, of these

doctrines, as in fact both published and not published:  as

indeed, to say the truth, his books on metaphysics are written in

a style which makes them useless for ordinary teaching, and

instructive only, in the way of memoranda, for those who have been

already conversant in that sort of learning.

Doubtless also it was to Aristotle, that he owed the inclination

he had, not to the theory only, but likewise to the practice of

the art of medicine.  For when any of his friends were sick, he

would often prescribe them their course of diet, and medicines

proper to their disease, as we may find in his epistles.  He was

naturally a great lover of all kinds of learning and reading; and

Onesicritus informs us, that he constantly laid Homer's Iliads,

according to the copy corrected by Aristotle, called the casket

copy, with his dagger under his pillow, declaring that he esteemed

it a perfect portable treasure of all military virtue and

knowledge.  When he was in the upper Asia, being destitute of

other books, he ordered Harpalus to send him some; who furnished

him with Philistus's History, a great many of the plays of

Euripides, Sophocles, and Aeschylus, and some dithyrambic odes,

composed by Telestes and Philoxenus.  For awhile he loved and

cherished Aristotle no less, as he was wont to say himself, than

if he had been his father, giving this reason for it, that as he

had received life from the one, so the other had taught him to

live well.  But afterwards, upon some mistrust of him, yet not so

great as to make him do him any hurt, his familiarity and friendly

kindness to him abated so much of its former force and

affectionateness, as to make it evident he was alienated from him.

However, his violent thirst after and passion for learning, which

were once implanted, still grew up with him, and never decayed; as

appears by his veneration of Anaxarchus, by the present of fifty

talents which he sent to Xenocrates, and his particular care and

esteem of Dandamis and Calanus.

While Philip went on his expedition against the Byzantines, he

left Alexander, then sixteen years old, his lieutenant in

Macedonia, committing the charge of his seal to him; who, not to

sit idle, reduced the rebellious Maedi, and having taken their

chief town by storm, drove out the barbarous inhabitants, and

planting a colony of several nations in their room, called the

place after his own name, Alexandropolis.  At the battle of

Chaeronea, which his father fought against the Grecians, he is

said to have been the first man that charged the Thebans' sacred

band.  And even in my remembrance, there stood an old oak near the

river Cephisus, which people called Alexander's oak, because his

tent was pitched under it.  And not far off are to be seen the

graves of the Macedonians who fell in that battle.  This early

bravery made Philip so fond of him, that nothing pleased him more

than to hear his subjects call himself their general and Alexander

their king.

But the disorders of his family, chiefly caused by his new

marriages and attachments, (the troubles that began in the women's

chambers spreading, so to say, to the whole kingdom,) raised

various complaints and differences between them, which the

violence of Olympias, a woman of a jealous and implacable temper,

made wider, by exasperating Alexander against his father.  Among

the rest, this accident contributed most to their falling out.  At

the wedding of Cleopatra, whom Philip fell in love with and

married, she being much too young for him, her uncle Attalus in

his drink desired the Macedonians would implore the gods to give

them a lawful successor to the kingdom by his niece.  This so

irritated Alexander, that throwing one of the cups at his head,

"You villain," said he, "what, am I then a bastard?"  Then Philip

taking Attalus's part, rose up and would have run his son through;

but by good fortune for them both, either his over-hasty rage, or

the wine he had drunk, made his foot slip, so that he fell down on

the floor.  At which Alexander reproachfully insulted over him:

"See there," said he, "the man, who makes preparations to pass out

of Europe into Asia, overturned in passing from one seat to

another."  After this debauch, he and his mother Olympias withdrew

from Philip's company, and when he had placed her in Epirus, he

himself retired into Illyria.

About this time, Demaratus the Corinthian, an old friend of the

family, who had the freedom to say anything among them without

offense, coming to visit Philip, after the first compliments and

embraces were over, Philip asked him, whether the Grecians were at

amity with one another.  "It ill becomes you," replied Demaratus,

"to be so solicitous about Greece, when you have involved your own

house in so many dissensions and calamities."  He was so convinced

by this seasonable reproach, that he immediately sent for his son

home, and by Demartatus's mediation prevailed with him to return.

But this reconciliation lasted not long; for when Pixodorus,

viceroy of Caria, sent Aristocritus to treat for a match between

his eldest daughter and Philip's son Arrhidaeus, hoping by this

alliance to secure his assistance upon occasion, Alexander's

mother, and some who pretended to be his friends, presently filled

his head with tales and calumnies, as if Philip, by a splendid

marriage and important alliance, were preparing the way for

settling the kingdom upon Arrhidaeus.  In alarm at this, he

dispatched Thessalus, the tragic actor, into Caria, to dispose

Pixodorus to slight Arrhidaeus, both as illegitimate and a fool,

and rather to accept of himself for his son-in-law.  This

proposition was much more agreeable to Pixodorus than the former.

But Philip, as soon as he was made acquainted with this

transaction, went to his son's apartment, taking with him

Philotas, the son of Parmenio, one of Alexander's intimate friends

and companions, and there reproved him severely, and reproached

him bitterly, that he should be so degenerate, and unworthy of the

power he was to leave him, as to desire the alliance of a mean

Carian, who was at best but the slave of a barbarous prince.  Nor

did this satisfy his resentment, for he wrote to the Corinthians,

to send Thessalus to him in chains, and banished Harpalus,

Nearchus, Erigyius, and Ptolemy, his son's friends and favorites,

whom Alexander afterwards recalled, and raised to great honor and

preferment.

Not long after this, Pausanias, having had an outrage done to him

at the instance of Attalus and Cleopatra, when he found he could

get no reparation for his disgrace at Philip's hands, watched his

opportunity and murdered him.  The guilt of which fact was laid

for the most part upon Olympias, who was said to have encouraged

and exasperated the enraged youth to revenge; and some sort of

suspicion attached even to Alexander himself, who, it was said,

when Pausanias came and complained to him of the injury he had

received, repeated the verse out of Euripides's Medea:  —

On husband, and on father, and on bride.

However, he took care to find out and punish the accomplices of

the conspiracy severely, and was very angry with Olympias for

treating Cleopatra inhumanly in his absence.

Alexander was but twenty years old when his father was murdered,

and succeeded to a kingdom beset on all sides with great dangers,

and rancorous enemies.  For not only the barbarous nations that

bordered on Macedonia, were impatient of being governed by any but

their own native princes; but Philip likewise, though he had been

victorious over the Grecians, yet, as the time had not been

sufficient for him to complete his conquest and accustom them to

his sway, had simply left all things in a general disorder and

confusion.  It seemed to the Macedonians a very critical time; and

some would have persuaded Alexander to give up all thought of

retaining the Grecians in subjection by force of arms, and rather

to apply himself to win back by gentle means the allegiance of the

tribes who were designing revolt, and try the effect of indulgence

in arresting the first motions towards revolution.  But he

rejected this counsel as weak and timorous, and looked upon it to

be more prudence to secure himself by resolution and magnanimity,

than, by seeming to buckle to any, to encourage all to trample on

him.  In pursuit of this opinion, he reduced the barbarians to

tranquility, and put an end to all fear of war from them, by a

rapid expedition into their country as far as the river Danube,

where he gave Syrmus, king of the Triballians, an entire

overthrow.  And hearing the Thebans were in revolt, and the

Athenians in correspondence with them, he immediately marched

through the pass of Thermopylae, saying that to Demosthenes who

had called him a child while he was in Illyria and in the country

of the Triballians, and a youth when he was in Thessaly, he would

appear a man before the walls of Athens.

When he came to Thebes, to show how willing he was to accept of

their repentance for what was past, he only demanded of them

Phoenix and Prothytes, the authors of the rebellion, and

proclaimed a general pardon to those who would come over to him.

But when the Thebans merely retorted by demanding Philotas and

Antipater to be delivered into their hands, and by a proclamation

on their part, invited all who would assert the liberty of Greece

to come over to them, he presently applied himself to make them

feel the last extremities of war.  The Thebans indeed defended

themselves with a zeal and courage beyond their strength, being

much outnumbered by their enemies.  But when the Macedonian garrison

sallied out upon them from the citadel, they were so hemmed in on

all sides, that the greater part of them fell in the battle; the

city itself being taken by storm, was sacked and razed,

Alexander's hope being that so severe an example might terrify the

rest of Greece into obedience, and also in order to gratify the

hostility of his confederates, the Phocians and Plataeans.  So

that, except the priests, and some few who had heretofore been the

friends and connections of the Macedonians, the family of the poet

Pindar, and those who were known to have opposed the public vote

for the war, all the rest, to the number of thirty thousand, were

publicly sold for slaves; and it is computed that upwards of six

thousand were put to the sword.  Among the other calamities that

befell the city, it happened that some Thracian soldiers having

broken into the house of a matron of high character and repute,

named Timoclea, their captain, after he had used violence with

her, to satisfy his avarice as well as lust, asked her, if she

knew of any money concealed; to which she readily answered she

did, and bade him follow her into a garden, where she showed him a

well, into which, she told him, upon the taking of the city she

had thrown what she had of most value.  The greedy Thracian

presently stooping down to view the place where he thought the

treasure lay, she came behind him, and pushed him into the well,

and then flung great stones in upon him, till she had killed him.

After which, when the soldiers led her away bound to Alexander,

her very mien and gait showed her to be a woman of dignity, and of

a mind no less elevated, not betraying the least sign of fear or

astonishment.  And when the king asked her who she was, "I am,"

said she, "the sister of Theagenes, who fought the battle of

Chaeronea with your father Philip, and fell there in command for

the liberty of Greece."  Alexander was so surprised, both at what

she had done, and what she said, that he could not choose but give

her and her children their freedom to go whither they pleased.

After this he received the Athenians into favor, although they had

shown themselves so much concerned at the calamity of Thebes that

out of sorrow they omitted the celebration of the Mysteries, and

entertained those who escaped with all possible humanity.  Whether

it were, like the lion, that his passion was now satisfied, or

that after an example of extreme cruelty, he had a mind to appear

merciful, it happened well for the Athenians; for he not only

forgave them all past offenses, but bade them to look to their

affairs with vigilance, remembering that if he should miscarry,

they were likely to be the arbiters of Greece.  Certain it is,

too, that in after-time he often repented of his severity to the

Thebans, and his remorse had such influence on his temper as to

make him ever after less rigorous to all others.  He imputed also

the murder of Clitus, which he committed in his wine, and the

unwillingness of the Macedonians to follow him against the

Indians, by which his enterprise and glory was left imperfect, to

the wrath and vengeance of Bacchus, the protector of Thebes.  And

it was observed that whatsoever any Theban, who had the good

fortune to survive this victory, asked of him, he was sure to

grant without the least difficulty.

Soon after, the Grecians, being assembled at the Isthmus, declared

their resolution of joining with Alexander in the war against the

Persians, and proclaimed him their general.  While he stayed here,

many public ministers and philosophers came from all parts to

visit him, and congratulated him on his election, but contrary to

his expectation, Diogenes of Sinope, who then was living at

Corinth, thought so little of him, that instead of coming to

compliment him, he never so much as stirred out of the suburb

called the Cranium, where Alexander found him lying along in the

sun.  When he saw so much company near him, he raised himself a

little, and vouchsafed to look upon Alexander; and when he kindly

asked him whether he wanted anything, "Yes," said he, "I would

have you stand from between me and the sun."  Alexander was so

struck at this answer, and surprised at the greatness of the man,

who had taken so little notice of him, that as he went away, he

told his followers who were laughing at the moroseness of the

philosopher, that if he were not Alexander, he would choose to be

Diogenes.

Then he went to Delphi, to consult Apollo concerning the success

of the war he had undertaken, and happening to come on one of the

forbidden days, when it was esteemed improper to give any answers

from the oracle, he sent messengers to desire the priestess to do

her office; and when she refused, on the plea of a law to the

contrary, he went up himself, and began to draw her by force into

the temple, until tired and overcome with his importunity, "My

son," said she, "thou art invincible."  Alexander taking hold of

what she spoke, declared he had received such an answer as he

wished for, and that it was needless to consult the god any

further.  Among other prodigies that attended the departure of his

army, the image of Orpheus at Libethra, made of cypress-wood, was

seen to sweat in great abundance, to the discouragement of many.

But Aristander told him, that far from presaging any ill to him,

it signified he should perform acts so important and glorious as

would make the poets and musicians of future ages labor and sweat

to describe and celebrate them.

His army, by their computation who make the smallest amount,

consisted of thirty thousand foot, and four thousand horse; and

those who make the most of it, speak but of forty-three thousand

foot, and three thousand horse.  Aristobulus says, he had not a

fund of above seventy talents for their pay, nor had he more than

thirty days' provision, if we may believe Duris; Onesicritus tells

us, he was two hundred talents in debt.  However narrow and

disproportionable the beginnings of so vast an undertaking might

seem to be, yet he would not embark his army until he had informed

himself particularly what means his friends had to enable them to

follow him, and supplied what they wanted, by giving good farms to

some, a village to one, and the revenue of some hamlet or harbor

town to another.  So that at last he had portioned out or engaged

almost all the royal property; which giving Perdiccas an occasion

to ask him what he would leave himself, he replied, his hopes.

"Your soldiers," replied Perdiccas, "will be your partners in

those," and refused to accept of the estate he had assigned him.

Some others of his friends did the like, but to those who

willingly received, or desired assistance of him, he liberally

granted it, as far as his patrimony in Macedonia would reach, the

most part of which was spent in these donations.

With such vigorous resolutions, and his mind thus disposed, he

passed the Hellespont, and at Troy sacrificed to Minerva, and

honored the memory of the heroes who were buried there, with

solemn libations; especially Achilles, whose gravestone he

anointed, and with his friends, as the ancient custom is, ran

naked about his sepulchre, and crowned it with garlands, declaring

how happy he esteemed him, in having while he lived so faithful a

friend, and when he was dead, so famous a poet to proclaim his

actions.  While he was viewing the rest of the antiquities and

curiosities of the place, being told he might see Paris's harp, if

he pleased, he said, he thought it not worth looking on, but he

should be glad to see that of Achilles, to which he used to sing

the glories and great actions of brave men.

In the meantime Darius's captains having collected large forces,

were encamped on the further bank of the river Granicus, and it

was necessary to fight, as it were, in the gate of Asia for an

entrance into it.  The depth of the river, with the unevenness and

difficult ascent of the opposite bank, which was to be gained by

main force, was apprehended by most, and some pronounced it an

improper time to engage, because it was unusual for the kings of

Macedonia to march with their forces in the month called Daesius.

But Alexander broke through these scruples, telling; them they

should call it a second Artemisius.  And when Parmenio advised him

not to attempt anything that day, because it was late, he told

him that he should disgrace the Hellespont, should he fear the

Granicus.  And so without more saying, he immediately took the

river with thirteen troops of horse, and advanced against whole

showers of darts thrown from the steep opposite side, which was

covered with armed multitudes of the enemy's horse and foot,

notwithstanding the disadvantage of the ground and the rapidity of

the stream; so that the action seemed to have more of frenzy and

desperation in it, than of prudent conduct.  However, he persisted

obstinately to gain the passage, and at last with much ado making

his way up the banks, which were extremely muddy and slippery, he

had instantly to join in a mere confused hand-to-hand combat with

the enemy, before he could draw up his men, who were still passing

over, into any order.  For the enemy pressed upon him with loud

and warlike outcries; and charging horse against horse, with their

lances, after they had broken and spent these, they fell to it

with their swords.  And Alexander, being easily known by his

buckler, and a large plume of white feathers on each side of his

helmet, was attacked on all sides, yet escaped wounding, though

his cuirass was pierced by a javelin in one of the joinings.  And

Rhoesaces and Spithridates, two Persian commanders, falling upon

him at once, he avoided one of them, and struck at Rhoesaces, who

had a good cuirass on, with such force, that his spear breaking in

his hand, he was glad to betake himself to his dagger.  While they

were thus engaged, Spithridates came up on one side of him, and

raising himself upon his horse, gave him such a blow with his

battle-axe on the helmet, that he cut off the crest of it, with

one of his plumes, and the helmet was only just so far strong

enough to save him, that the edge of the weapon touched the hair

of his head.  But as he was about to repeat his stroke, Clitus,

called the black Clitus, prevented him, by running him through the

body with his spear.  At the same time Alexander dispatched

Rhoesaces with his sword.  While the horse were thus dangerously

engaged, the Macedonian phalanx passed the river, and the foot on

each side advanced to fight.  But the enemy hardly sustaining the

first onset, soon gave ground and fled, all but the mercenary

Greeks, who, making a stand upon a rising ground, desired quarter,

which Alexander, guided rather by passion than judgment, refused

to grant, and charging them himself first, had his horse (not

Bucephalas, but another) killed under him.  And this obstinacy of

his to cut off these experienced desperate men, cost him the lives

of more of his own soldiers than all the battle before, besides

those who were wounded.  The Persians lost in this battle twenty

thousand foot, and two thousand five hundred horse.  On

Alexander's side, Aristobulus says there were not wanting above

four and thirty, of whom nine were foot-soldiers; and in memory of

them he caused so many statues of brass, of Lysippus's making, to

be erected.  And that the Grecians might participate the honor of

his victory, he sent a portion of the spoils home to them,

particularly to the Athenians three hundred bucklers, and upon all

the rest he ordered this inscription to be set:  "Alexander the

son of Philip, and the Grecians, except the Lacedaemonians, won

these from the barbarians who inhabit Asia."  All the plate and

purple garments, and other things of the same kind that he took

from the Persians, except a very small quantity which he reserved

for himself, he sent as a present to his mother.

This battle presently made a great change of affairs to

Alexander's advantage.  For Sardis itself, the chief seat of the

barbarian's power in the maritime provinces, and many other

considerable places were surrendered to him; only Halicarnassus

and Miletus stood out, which he took by force, together with the

territory about them.  After which he was a little unsettled in

his opinion how to proceed.  Sometimes he thought it best to find

out Darius as soon as he could, and put all to the hazard of a

battle; another while he looked upon it as a more prudent course

to make an entire reduction of the sea-coast, and not to seek the

enemy till he had first exercised his power here and made himself

secure of the resources of these provinces.  While he was thus

deliberating what to do, it happened that a spring of water near

the city of Xanthus in Lycia, of its own accord swelled over its

banks, and threw up a copper plate upon the margin, in which was

engraven in ancient characters, that the time would come, when the

Persian empire should be destroyed by the Grecians.  Encouraged by

this accident, he proceeded to reduce the maritime parts of

Cilicia and Phoenicia, and passed his army along the sea-coasts of

Pamphylia with such expedition that many historians have described

and extolled it with that height of admiration, as if it were no

less than a miracle, and an extraordinary effect of divine favor,

that the waves which usually come rolling in violently from the

main, and hardly ever leave so much as a narrow beach under the

steep, broken cliffs at any time uncovered, should on a sudden

retire to afford him passage.  Menander, in one of his comedies,

alludes to this marvel when he says,

Was Alexander ever favored more?

Each man I wish for meets me at my door,

And should I ask for passage through the sea,

The sea I doubt not would retire for me.

But Alexander himself in his epistles mentions nothing unusual in

this at all, but says he went from Phaselis, and passed through

what they call the Ladders. At Phaselis he stayed some time, and

finding the statue of Theodectes, who was a native of this town

and was now dead, erected in the marketplace, after he had supped,

having drunk pretty plentifully, he went and danced about it, and

crowned it with garlands, honoring not ungracefully in his sport,

the memory of a philosopher whose conversation he had formerly

enjoyed, when he was Aristotle's scholar.

Then he subdued the Pisidians who made head against him, and

conquered the Phrygians, at whose chief city Gordium, which is

said to be the seat of the ancient Midas, he saw the famous

chariot fastened with cords made of the rind of the corner-tree,

which whosoever should untie, the inhabitants had a tradition,

that for him was reserved the empire of the world.  Most authors

tell the story that Alexander, finding himself unable to untie the

knot, the ends of which were secretly twisted round and folded up

within it, cut it asunder with his sword.  But Aristobulus tells

us it was easy for him to undo it, by only pulling the pin out of

the pole, to which the yoke was tied, and afterwards drawing off

the yoke itself from below.  From hence he advanced into

Paphlagonia and Cappadocia, both which countries he soon reduced

to obedience, and then hearing of the death of Memnon, the best

commander Darius had upon the sea-coasts, who, if he had lived,

might, it was supposed, have put many impediments and difficulties

in the way of the progress of his arms, he was the rather

encouraged to carry the war into the upper provinces of Asia.

Darius was by this time upon his march from Susa, very confident,

not only in the number of his men, which amounted to six hundred

thousand, but likewise in a dream, which the Persian soothsayers

interpreted rather in flattery to him, than according to the

natural probability.  He dreamed that he saw the Macedonian

phalanx all on fire, and Alexander waiting on him, clad in the

same dress which he himself had been used to wear when he was

courier to the late king; after which, going into the temple of

Belus, he vanished out of his sight.  The dream would appear to

have supernaturally signified to him the illustrious actions the

Macedonians were to perform, and that as he from a courier's place

had risen to the throne, so Alexander should come to be master of

Asia, and not long surviving his conquests, conclude his life with

glory.  Darius's confidence increased the more, because Alexander

spent so much time in Cilicia, which he imputed to his cowardice.

But it was sickness that detained him there, which some say he

contracted from his fatigues, others from bathing in the river

Cydnus, whose waters were exceedingly cold.  However it happened,

none of his physicians would venture to give him any remedies,

they thought his case so desperate, and were so afraid of the

suspicions and ill-will of the Macedonians if they should fail in

the cure; till Philip, the Acarnanian, seeing how critical his

case was, but relying on his own well-known friendship for him,

resolved to try the last efforts of his art, and rather hazard his

own credit and life, than suffer him to perish for want of physic,

which he confidently administered to him, encouraging him to take

it boldly, if he desired a speedy recovery, in order to prosecute

the war.  At this very time, Parmenio wrote to Alexander from the

camp, bidding him have a care of Philip, as one who was bribed by

Darius to kill him, with great sums of money, and a promise of his

daughter in marriage.  When he had perused the letter, he put it

under his pillow, without showing it so much as to any of his most

intimate friends, and when Philip came in with the potion, he took

it with great cheerfulness and assurance, giving him meantime the

letter to read.  This was a spectacle well worth being present at,

to see Alexander take the draught, and Philip read the letter at

the same time, and then turn and look upon one another, but with

different sentiments; for Alexander's looks were cheerful and

open, to show his kindness to and confidence in his physician,

while the other was full of surprise and alarm at the accusation,

appealing to the gods to witness his innocence, sometimes lifting

up his hands to heaven, and then throwing himself down by the

bedside, and beseeching Alexander to lay aside all fear, and

follow his directions without apprehension.  For the medicine at

first worked so strongly as to drive, so to say, the vital forces

into the interior; he lost his speech, and falling into a swoon,

had scarce any sense or pulse left.  However, in no long time, by

Philip's means, his health and strength returned, and he showed

himself in public to the Macedonians, who were in continual fear

and dejection until they saw him abroad again.

There was at this time in Darius's army a Macedonian refugee,

named Amyntas, one who was pretty well acquainted with Alexander's

character.  This man, when he saw Darius intended to fall upon the

enemy in the passes and defiles, advised him earnestly to keep

where he was, in the open and extensive plains, it being the

advantage of a numerous army to have field-room enough when it

engages with a lesser force.  Darius, instead of taking his

counsel, told him he was afraid the enemy would endeavor to run

away, and so Alexander would escape out of his hands.  "That

fear," replied Amyntas, "is needless, for assure yourself that far

from avoiding, you, he will make all the speed he can to meet you,

and is now most likely on his march towards you."  But Amyntas's

counsel was to no purpose, for Darius immediately decamping,

marched into Cilicia, at the same time that Alexander advanced

into Syria to meet him; and missing one another in the night, they

both turned back again.  Alexander, greatly pleased with the

event, made all the haste he could to fight in the defiles, and

Darius to recover his former ground, and draw his army out of so

disadvantageous a place.  For now he began to perceive his error

in engaging himself too far in a country in which the sea, the

mountains, and the river Pinarus running through the midst of it,

would necessitate him to divide his forces, render his horse

almost unserviceable, and only cover and support the weakness of

the enemy.  Fortune was not kinder to Alexander in the choice of

the ground, than he was careful to improve it to his advantage.

For being much inferior in numbers, so far from allowing himself

to be outflanked, he stretched his right wing much further out

than the left wing of his enemies, and fighting there himself in

the very foremost ranks, put the barbarians to flight.  In this

battle he was wounded in the thigh, Chares says by Darius, with

whom he fought hand to hand.  But in the account which he gave

Antipater of the battle though indeed he owns he was wounded in

the thigh with sword, though not dangerously, yet he takes no

notice who it was that wounded him.

Nothing was wanting to complete this victory, in which he

overthrew above a hundred and ten thousand of his enemies, but

the taking the person of Darius, who escaped very narrowly by

flight.  However, having taken his chariot and his bow, he

returned from pursuing him, and found his own men busy in

pillaging the barbarians' camp, which (though to disburden

themselves, they had left most of their baggage at Damascus) was

exceedingly rich.  But Darius's tent, which was full of splendid

furniture, and quantities of gold and silver, they reserved for

Alexander himself, who after he had put off his arms, went to

bathe himself, saying, "Let us now cleanse ourselves from the

toils of war in the bath of Darius."  "Not so," replied one of his

followers, "but in Alexander's rather; for the property of the

conquered is, and should be called the conqueror's."  Here, when

he beheld the bathing vessels, the water-pots, the pans, and the

ointment boxes, all of gold, curiously wrought, and smelt the

fragrant odors with which the whole place was exquisitely

perfumed, and from thence passed into a pavilion of great size and

height, where the couches and tables and preparations for an

entertainment were perfectly magnificent, he turned to those about

him and said, "This, it seems, is royalty."

But as he was going to supper, word was brought him that Darius's

mother and wife and two unmarried daughters, being taken among the

rest of the prisoners, upon the sight of his chariot and bow were

all in mourning and sorrow, imagining him to be dead.  After a

little pause, more livelily affected with their affliction than

with his own success he sent Leonnatus to them to let them know

Darius was not dead, and that they need not fear any harm from

Alexander, who made war upon him only for dominion; they should

themselves be provided with everything they had been used to

receive from Darius.  This kind message could not but be very

welcome to the captive ladies, especially being made good by

actions no less humane and generous.  For he gave them leave to

bury whom they pleased of the Persians, and to make use for this

purpose of what garments and furniture they thought fit out of the

booty.  He diminished nothing of their equipage, or of the

attentions and respect formerly paid them, and allowed larger

pensions for their maintenance than they had before.  But the

noblest and most royal part of their usage was, that he treated

these illustrious prisoners according to their virtue and

character, not suffering them to hear, or receive, or so much as

to apprehend anything that was unbecoming.  So that they seemed

rather lodged in some temple, or some holy virgin chambers, where

they enjoyed their privacy sacred and uninterrupted, than in the

camp of an enemy.  Nevertheless Darius's wife was accounted the

most beautiful princess then living, as her husband the tallest

and handsomest man of his time, and the daughters were not

unworthy of their parents.  But Alexander, esteeming it more

kingly to govern himself than to conquer his enemies, sought no

intimacy with any one of them, nor indeed with any other woman

before marriage, except Barsine, Memnon's widow, who was taken

prisoner at Damascus.  She had been instructed in the Grecian

learning, was of a gentle temper, and, by her father Artabazus,

royally descended, which good qualities, added to the

solicitations and encouragement of Parmenio, as Aristobulus tells

us, made him the more willing to attach himself to so agreeable

and illustrious a woman.  Of the rest of the female captives

though remarkably handsome and well proportioned, he took no

further notice than to say jestingly, that Persian women were

terrible eye-sores.  And he himself, retaliating, as it were, by

the display of the beauty of his own temperance and self-control,

bade them be removed, as he would have done so many lifeless

images.  When Philoxenus, his lieutenant on the sea-coast, wrote

to him to know if he would buy two young boys, of great beauty,

whom one Theodorus, a Tarentine, had to sell, he was so offended,

that he often expostulated with his friends, what baseness

Philoxenus had ever observed in him, that he should presume to

make him such a reproachful offer.  And he immediately wrote him a

very sharp letter, telling him Theodorus and his merchandise might

go with his good-will to destruction.  Nor was he less severe to

Hagnon, who sent him word he would buy a Corinthian youth named

Crobylus, as a present for him.  And hearing that Damon and

Timotheus, two of Parmenio's Macedonian soldiers, had abused the

wives of some strangers who were in his pay, he wrote to Parmenio,

charging him strictly, if he found them guilty, to put them to

death, as wild beasts that were only made for the mischief of

mankind.  In the same letter he added, that he had not so much as

seen or desired to see the wife of Darius, no, nor suffered

anybody to speak of her beauty before him.  He was wont to say,

that sleep and the act of generation chiefly made him sensible

that he was mortal; as much as to say, that weariness and pleasure

proceed both from the same frailty and imbecility of human nature.

In his diet, also, he was most temperate, as appears, omitting

many other circumstances, by what he said to Ada, whom he adopted,

with the title of mother, and afterwards created queen of Caria.

For when she out of kindness sent him every day many curious

dishes, and sweetmeats, and would have furnished him with some

cooks and pastry-men, who were thought to have great skill, he

told her he wanted none of them, his preceptor, Leonidas, having

already given him the best, which were a night march to prepare

for breakfast, and a moderate breakfast to create an appetite for

supper.  Leonidas also, he added, used to open and search the

furniture of his chamber, and his wardrobe, to see if his mother

had left him anything that was delicate or superfluous.  He was

much less addicted to wine than was generally believed; that which

gave people occasion to think so of him was, that when he had

nothing else to do, he loved to sit long and talk, rather than

drink, and over every cup hold a long conversation.  For when his

affairs called upon him, he would not be detained, as other

generals often were, either by wine, or sleep, nuptial

solemnities, spectacles, or any other diversion whatsoever; a

convincing argument of which is, that in the short time he lived,

he accomplished so many and so great actions.  When he was free

from employment, after he was up, and had sacrificed to the gods,

he used to sit down to breakfast, and then spend the rest of the

day in hunting, or writing memoirs, giving decisions on some

military questions, or reading.  In marches that required no great

haste, he would practice shooting as he went along, or to mount a

chariot, and alight from it in full speed.  Sometimes, for sport's

sake, as his journals tell us, he would hunt foxes and go fowling.

When he came in for the evening, after he had bathed and was

anointed, he would call for his bakers and chief cooks, to know if

they had his dinner ready.  He never cared to dine till it was

pretty late and beginning to be dark, and was wonderfully

circumspect at meals that everyone who sat with him should be

served alike and with proper attention; and his love of talking,

as was said before, made him delight to sit long at his wine.  And

then, though otherwise no prince's conversation was ever so

agreeable, he would fall into a temper of ostentation and soldierly

boasting, which gave his flatterers a great advantage to ride him,

and made his better friends very uneasy.  For though they thought

it too base to strive who should flatter him most, yet they found

it hazardous not to do it; so that between the shame and the

danger, they were in a great strait how to behave themselves.

After such an entertainment, he was wont to bathe, and then

perhaps he would sleep till noon, and sometimes all day long.  He

was so very temperate in his eating, that when any rare fish or

fruits were sent him, he would distribute them among his friends,

and often reserve nothing for himself.  His table, however, was

always magnificent, the expense of it still increasing with his

good fortune, till it amounted to ten thousand drachmas a day, to

which sum he limited it, and beyond this he would suffer none to

lay out in any entertainment where he himself was the guest.

After the battle of Issus, he sent to Damascus to seize upon the

money and baggage, the wives and children of the Persians, of

which spoil the Thessalian horsemen had the greatest share; for

he had taken particular notice of their gallantry in the fight,

and sent them thither on purpose to make their reward suitable to

their courage.  Not but that the rest of the army had so

considerable a part of the booty as was sufficient to enrich them

all.  This first gave the Macedonians such a taste of the Persian

wealth and women and barbaric splendor of living, that they were

ready to pursue and follow upon it with all the eagerness of

hounds upon a scent.  But Alexander, before he proceeded any

further, thought it necessary to assure himself of the sea-coast.

Those who governed in Cyprus, put that island into his possession,

and Phoenicia, Tyre only excepted, was surrendered to him.  During

the siege of this city, which with mounds of earth cast up, and

battering engines, and two hundred galleys by sea, was carried on

for seven months together, he dreamt that he saw Hercules upon the

walls, reaching, out his hand, and calling to him.  And many of

the Tyrians in their sleep, fancied that Apollo told them he was

displeased with their actions, and was about to leave them and go

over to Alexander.  Upon which, as if the god had been a deserting

soldier, they seized him, so to say, in the act, tied down the

statue with ropes, and nailed it to the pedestal, reproaching him,

that he was a favorer of Alexander.  Another time, Alexander

dreamed he saw a Satyr mocking him at a distance, and when he

endeavored to catch him, he still escaped from him, till at last

with much perseverance, and running about after him, he got him

into his power.  The soothsayers making two words of Satyrus,

assured him, that Tyre should he his own.  The inhabitants at this

time show a spring of water, near which they say Alexander slept,

when he fancied the Satyr appeared to him.

While the body of the army lay before Tyre, he made an excursion

against the Arabians who inhabit the Mount Antilibanus, in which

he hazarded his life extremely to bring off his master Lysimachus,

who would needs go along with him, declaring he was neither older

nor inferior in courage to Phoenix, Achilles's guardian.  For

when, quitting their horses, they began to march up the hills on

foot, the rest of the soldiers outwent them a great deal, so that

night drawing on, and the enemy near, Alexander was fain to stay

behind so long, to encourage and help up the lagging and tired old

man, that before he was aware, he was left behind, a great way

from his soldiers, with a slender attendance, and forced to pass

an extremely cold night in the dark, and in a very inconvenient

place; till seeing a great many scattered fires of the enemy at

some distance, and trusting to his agility of body, and as he was

always wont by undergoing toils and labors himself to cheer and

support the Macedonians in any distress, he ran straight to one of

the nearest fires, and with his dagger dispatching two of the

barbarians that sat by it, snatched up a lighted brand, and

returned with it to his own men.  They immediately made a great

fire, which so alarmed the enemy that most of them fled, and those

that assaulted them were soon routed, and thus they rested

securely the remainder of the night.  Thus Chares writes.

But to return to the siege, it had this issue.  Alexander, that he

might refresh his army, harassed with many former encounters, had

led only a small party towards the walls, rather to keep the enemy

busy, than with any prospect of much advantage.  It happened at

this time that Aristander, the soothsayer, after he had

sacrificed, upon view of the entrails, affirmed confidently to

those who stood by, that the city should be certainly taken that

very month, upon which there was a laugh and some mockery among

the soldiers, as this was the last day of it.  The king seeing him

in perplexity, and always anxious to support the credit of the

predictions, gave order that they should not count it as the

thirtieth, but as the twenty-third of the month, and ordering the

trumpets to sound, attacked the walls more seriously than he at

first intended.  The sharpness of the assault so inflamed the rest

of his forces who were left in the camp, that they could not hold

from advancing to second it, which they performed with so much

vigor, that the Tyrians retired, and the town was carried that

very day.  The next place he sat down before was Gaza, one of the

largest cities of Syria, where this accident befell him.  A large

bird flying over him, let a clod of earth fall upon his shoulder,

and then settling upon one of the battering engines, was suddenly

entangled and caught in the nets composed of sinews, which

protected the ropes with which the machine was managed.  This fell

out exactly according to Aristander's prediction, which was, that

Alexander should be wounded, and the city reduced.

From hence he sent great part of the spoils to Olympias,

Cleopatra, and the rest of his friends, not omitting his preceptor

Leonidas, on whom he bestowed five hundred talents weight of

frankincense, and a hundred of myrrh, in remembrance of the hopes

he had once expressed of him when he was but a child.  For

Leonidas, it seems, standing by him one day while he was

sacrificing, and seeing him take both his hands full of incense to

throw into the fire, told him it became him to be more sparing in

his offerings, and not be so profuse till he was master of the

countries which those sweet gums and spices came from.  So

Alexander now wrote to him, saying, "We have sent you abundance of

myrrh and frankincense, that for the future you may not be stingy

to the gods."  Among the treasures and other booty that was taken

from Darius, there was a very precious casket, which being brought

to Alexander for a great rarity, he asked those about him what

they thought fittest to be laid up in it; and when they had

delivered their various opinions, he told them he should keep

Homer's Iliad in it.  This is attested by many credible authors,

and if what those of Alexandria tell us, relying upon the

authority of Heraclides, be true, Homer was neither an idle, nor

an unprofitable companion to him in his expedition.  For when he

was master of Egypt, designing to settle a colony of Grecians

there, he resolved to build a large and populous city, and give

it his own name.  In order to which, after he had measured and

staked out the ground with the advice of the best architects, he

chanced one night in his sleep to see a wonderful vision; a

grey-headed old man, of a venerable aspect, appeared to stand by

him, and pronounce these verses:—

An island lies, where loud the billows roar,

Pharos they call it, on the Egyptian shore.

Alexander upon this immediately rose up and went to Pharos, which,

at that time, was an island lying a little above the Canobic mouth

of the river Nile, though it has now been joined to the main land

by a mole.  As soon as he saw the commodious situation of the

place, it being a long neck of land, stretching like an isthmus

between large lagoons and shallow waters on one side, and the sea

on the other, the latter at the end of it making a spacious

harbor, he said, Homer, besides his other excellences, was a very

good architect, and ordered the plan of a city to be drawn out

answerable to the place.  To do which, for want of chalk, the soil

being black, they laid out their lines with flour, taking in a

pretty large compass of ground in a semicircular figure, and

drawing into the inside of the circumference equal straight lines

from each end, thus giving it something of the form of a cloak or

cape.  While he was pleasing himself with his design, on a sudden

an infinite number of great birds of several kinds, rising like a

black cloud out of the river and the lake, devoured every morsel

of the flour that had been used in setting out the lines; at which

omen even Alexander himself was troubled, till the augurs restored

his confidence again by telling him, it was a sign the city he was

about to build would not only abound in all things within itself,

but also be the nurse and feeder of many nations.  He commanded

the workmen to proceed, while he went to visit the temple of

Ammon.

This was a long and painful, and, in two respects, a dangerous

journey; first, if they should lose their provision of water, as

for several days none could be obtained; and, secondly, if a

violent south wind should rise upon them, while they were

traveling through the wide extent of deep sands, as it is said to

have done when Cambyses led his army that way, blowing the sand

together in heaps, and raising, as it were, the whole desert like

a sea upon them, till fifty thousand were swallowed up and

destroyed by it.  All these difficulties were weighed and

represented to him; but Alexander was not easily to be diverted

from anything he was bent upon.  For fortune having hitherto

seconded him in his designs, made him resolute and firm in his

opinions, and the boldness of his temper raised a sort of passion

in him for surmounting difficulties; as if it were not enough to

be always victorious in the field, unless places and seasons and

nature herself submitted to him.  In this journey, the relief and

assistance the gods afforded him in his distresses, were more

remarkable, and obtained greater belief than the oracles he

received afterwards, which, however, were valued and credited the

more on account of those occurrences.  For first, plentiful rains

that fell, preserved them from any fear of perishing by drought,

and, allaying the extreme dryness of the sand, which now became

moist and firm to travel on, cleared and purified the air.

Besides this, when they were out of their way, and were wandering

up and down, because the marks which were wont to direct the

guides were disordered and lost, they were set right again by some

ravens, which flew before them when on their march, and waited for

them when they lingered and fell behind; and the greatest miracle,

as Callisthenes tells us, was that if any of the company went

astray in the night, they never ceased croaking and making a

noise, till by that means they had brought them into the right way

again.  Having passed through the wilderness, they came to the

place; where the high-priest at the first salutation bade

Alexander welcome from his father Ammon.  And being asked by him

whether any of his father's murderers had escaped punishment, he

charged him to speak with more respect, since his was not a mortal

father.  Then Alexander, changing his expression, desired to know

of him if any of those who murdered Philip were yet unpunished,

and further concerning dominion, whether the empire of the world

was reserved for him?  This, the god answered, he should obtain,

and that Philip's death was fully revenged, which gave him so much

satisfaction, that he made splendid offerings to Jupiter, and gave

the priests very rich presents.  This is what most authors write

concerning the oracles.  But Alexander, in a letter to his mother,

tells her there were some secret answers, which at his return he

would communicate to her only.  Others say that the priest,

desirous as a piece of courtesy to address him in Greek, "O

Paidion," by a slip in pronunciation ended with the s instead of

the n, and said, "O Paidios," which mistake Alexander was well

enough pleased with, and it went for current that the oracle had

called him so.

Among the sayings of one Psammon, a philosopher, whom he heard in

Egypt, he most approved of this, that all men are governed by God,

because in everything, that which is chief and commands, is

divine.  But what he pronounced himself upon this subject, was

even more like a philosopher, for he said, God was the common

father of us all, but more particularly of the best of us.  To the

barbarians he carried himself very haughtily, as if he were fully

persuaded of his divine birth and parentage; but to the Grecians

more moderately, and with less affectation of divinity, except it

were once in writing to the Athenians about Samos, when he tells

them that he should not himself have bestowed upon them that free

and glorious city; "You received it," he says, "from the bounty of

him who at that time was called my lord and father," meaning

Philip.  However, afterwards being wounded with an arrow, and

feeling much pain, he turned to those about him, and told them,

"This, my friends, is real flowing blood, not Ichor,

'Such as immortal gods are wont to shed.'"

And another time, when it thundered so much that everybody was

afraid, and Anaxarchus, the sophist, asked him if he who was

Jupiter's son could do anything like this, "Nay," said Alexander,

laughing, "I have no desire to be formidable to my friends, as you

would have me, who despised my table for being furnished with

fish, and not with the heads of governors of provinces."  For in

fact it is related as true, that Anaxarchus seeing a present of

small fishes, which the king sent to Hephaestion, had used this

expression, in a sort of irony, and disparagement of those who

undergo vast labors and encounter great hazards in pursuit of

magnificent objects, which after all bring them little more

pleasure or enjoyment than what others have.  From what I have

said upon this subject, it is apparent that Alexander in himself

was not foolishly affected, or had the vanity to think himself

really a god, but merely used his claims to divinity as a means of

maintaining among other people the sense of his superiority.

At his return out of Egypt into Phoenicia, he sacrificed and made

solemn processions, to which were added shows of lyric dances and

tragedies, remarkable not merely for the splendor of the equipage

and decorations, but for the competition among those who exhibited

them.  For the kings of Cyprus were here the exhibitors, just in

the same manner as at Athens those who are chosen by lot out of

the tribes.  And, indeed, they showed the greatest emulation to

outvie each other; especially Nicocreon, king of Salamis, and

Pasicrates of Soli, who furnished the chorus, and defrayed the

expenses of the two most celebrated actors, Athenodorus and

Thessalus, the former performing for Pasicrates, and the latter

for Nicocreon.  Thessalus was most favored by Alexander, though it

did not appear till Athenodorus was declared victor by the

plurality of votes.  For then at his going away, he said the

judges deserved to be commended for what they had done, but that

he would willingly have lost part of his kingdom, rather than to

have seen Thessalus overcome.  However, when he understood

Athenodorus was fined by the Athenians for being absent at the

festivals of Bacchus, though he refused his request that he would

write a letter in his behalf, he gave him a sufficient sum to

satisfy the penalty.  Another time, when Lycon of Scarphia

happened to act with great applause in the theater, and in a verse

which he introduced into the comic part which he was acting,

begged for a present of ten talents, he laughed and gave him the

money.

Darius wrote him a letter, and sent friends to intercede with him,

requesting him to accept as a ransom of his captives the sum of a

thousand talents, and offering him in exchange for his amity and

alliance, all the countries on this side the river Euphrates,

together with one of his daughters in marriage.  These propositions

he communicated to his friends, and when Parmenio told him, that

for his part, if he were Alexander, he should readily embrace

them, "So would I," said Alexander, "if I were Parmenio."

Accordingly, his answer to Darius was, that if he would come and

yield himself up into his power, he would treat him with all

possible kindness; if not, he was resolved immediately to go

himself and seek him.  But the death of Darius's wife in

childbirth made him soon after regret one part of this answer, and

he showed evident marks of grief, at being thus deprived of a

further opportunity of exercising his clemency and good nature,

which he manifested, however, as far as he could, by giving her a

most sumptuous funeral.

Among the eunuchs who waited in the queen's chamber, and were

taken prisoners with the women, there was one Tireus, who getting

out of the camp, fled away on horseback to Darius, to inform him

of his wife's death.  He, when he heard it, beating his head, and

bursting into tears and lamentations, said, "Alas! how great is

the calamity of the Persians!  Was it not enough that their king's

consort and sister was a prisoner in her lifetime, but she must,

now she is dead also, be but meanly and obscurely buried?"  "Oh

king," replied the eunuch, "as to her funeral rites, or any

respect or honor that should have been shown in them, you have not

the least reason to accuse the ill-fortune of your country; for to

my knowledge neither your queen Statira when alive, nor your

mother, nor children, wanted anything of their former happy

condition, unless it were the light of your countenance, which I

doubt not but the lord Oromasdes will yet restore to its former

glory.  And after her decease, I assure you, she had not only all

due funeral ornaments, but was honored also with the tears of your

very enemies; for Alexander is as gentle after victory, as he is

terrible in the field."  At the hearing of these words, such was

the grief and emotion of Darius's mind, that they carried him into

extravagant suspicions; and taking Tireus aside into a more

private part of his tent, "Unless thou likewise," said he to him,

"hast deserted me, together with the good fortune of Persia, and

art become a Macedonian in thy heart; if thou yet ownest me for

thy master Darius, tell me, I charge thee, by the veneration thou

payest the light of Mithras, and this right hand of thy king, do I

not lament the least of Statira's misfortunes in her captivity and

death?  Have I not suffered something more injurious and

deplorable in her lifetime?  And had I not been miserable with

less dishonor, if I had met with a more severe and inhuman enemy?

For how is it possible a young man as he is, should treat the wife

of his opponent with so much distinction, were it not from some

motive that does me disgrace?"  Whilst he was yet speaking, Tireus

threw himself at his feet, and besought him neither to wrong

Alexander so much, nor his dead wife and sister, as to give

utterance to any such thoughts, which deprived him of the greatest

consolation left him in his adversity, the belief that he was

overcome by a man whose virtues raised him above human nature;

that he ought to look upon Alexander with love and admiration, who

had given no less proofs of his continence towards the Persian

women, than of his valor among the men.  The eunuch confirmed all

he said with solemn and dreadful oaths, and was further enlarging

upon Alexander's moderation and magnanimity on other occasions,

when Darius, breaking away from him into the other division of the

tent, where his friends and courtiers were, lifted up his hands to

heaven, and uttered this prayer, "Ye gods," said he, "of my

family, and of my kingdom, if it be possible, I beseech you to

restore the declining affairs of Persia, that I may leave them in

as flourishing a condition as I found them, and have it in my

power to make a grateful return to Alexander for the kindness

which in my adversity he has shown to those who are dearest to me.

But if, indeed, the fatal time be come, which is to give a period

to the Persian monarchy, if our ruin be a debt that must be paid

to the divine jealousy and the vicissitude of things, then I

beseech you grant that no other man but Alexander may sit upon the

throne of Cyrus."  Such is the narrative given by the greater

number of the historians.

But to return to Alexander.  After he had reduced all Asia on this

side the Euphrates, he advanced towards Darius, who was coming

down against him with a million of men.  In his march, a very

ridiculous passage happened.  The servants who followed the camp,

for sport's sake divided themselves into two parties, and named

the commander of one of them Alexander, and of the other Darius.

At first they only pelted one another with clods of earth, but

presently took to their fists, and at last, heated with the

contention, they fought in good earnest with stones and clubs, so

that they had much ado to part them; till Alexander, upon hearing

of it, ordered the two captains to decide the quarrel by single

combat, and armed him who bore his name himself, while Philotas

did the same to him who represented Darius.  The whole army were

spectators of this encounter, willing from the event of it to

derive an omen of their own future success.  After they had fought

stoutly a pretty long while, at last he who was called Alexander

had the better, and for a reward of his prowess, had twelve

villages given him, with leave to wear the Persian dress.  So we

are told by Eratosthenes.

But the great battle of all that was fought with Darius, was not,

as most writers tell us, at Arbela, but at Gaugamela, which, in

their language, signifies the camel's house, forasmuch as one of

their ancient kings having escaped the pursuit of his enemies on a

swift camel, in gratitude to his beast, settled him at this place,

with an allowance of certain villages and rents for his

maintenance.  It came to pass that in the month Boedromion, about

the beginning of the feast of Mysteries at Athens, there was an

eclipse of the moon, the eleventh night after which, the two

armies being now in view of one another, Darius kept his men in

arms, and by torchlight took a general review of them.  But

Alexander, while his soldiers slept, spent the night before his

tent with his diviner Aristander, performing certain mysterious

ceremonies, and sacrificing to the god Fear.  In the meanwhile

the oldest of his commanders, and chiefly Parmenio, when they

beheld all the plain between Niphates and the Gordyaean mountains

shining with the lights and fires which were made by the

barbarians, and heard the uncertain and confused sound of voices

out of their camp, like the distant roaring of a vast ocean, were

so amazed at the thoughts of such a multitude, that after some

conference among themselves, they concluded it an enterprise too

difficult and hazardous for them to engage so numerous an enemy in

the day, and therefore meeting the king as he came from

sacrificing, besought him to attack Darius by night, that the

darkness might conceal the danger of the ensuing battle.  To this

he gave them the celebrated answer, "I will not steal a victory,"

which though some at the time thought a boyish and inconsiderate

speech, as if he played with danger, others, however, regarded as

an evidence that he confided in his present condition, and acted

on a true judgment of the future, not wishing to leave Darius, in

case he were worsted, the pretext of trying his fortune again,

which he might suppose himself to have, if he could impute his

overthrow to the disadvantage of the night, as he did before to

the mountains, the narrow passages, and the sea.  For while he had

such numerous forces and large dominions still remaining, it was

not any want of men or arms that could induce him to give up the

war, but only the loss of all courage and hope upon the conviction

of an undeniable and manifest defeat.

After they were gone from him with this answer, he laid himself

down in his tent and slept the rest of the night more soundly than

was usual with him, to the astonishment of the commanders, who

came to him early in the morning, and were fain themselves to give

order that the soldiers should breakfast.  But at last, time not

giving them leave to wait any longer, Parmenio went to his

bedside, and called him twice or thrice by his name, till he waked

him, and then asked him how it was possible, when he was to fight

the most important battle of all, he could sleep as soundly as if

he were already victorious.  "And are we not so, indeed," replied

Alexander, smiling, "since we are at last relieved from the

trouble of wandering in pursuit of Darius through a wide and

wasted country, hoping in vain that he would fight us?"  And not

only before the battle, but in the height of the danger, he showed

himself great, and manifested the self-possession of a just

foresight and confidence.  For the battle for some time fluctuated

and was dubious.  The left wing, where Parmenio commanded, was so

impetuously charged by the Bactrian horse that it was disordered

and forced to give ground, at the same time that Mazaeus had sent

a detachment round about to fall upon those who guarded the

baggage, which so disturbed Parmenio, that he sent messengers to

acquaint Alexander that the camp and baggage would be all lost

unless he immediately believed the rear by a considerable

reinforcement drawn out of the front.  This message being brought

him just as he was giving the signal to those about him for the

onset, he bade them tell Parmenio that he must have surely lost

the use of his reason, and had forgotten, in his alarm, that

soldiers, if victorious, become masters of their enemies' baggage;

and if defeated, instead of taking care of their wealth or their

slaves, have nothing more to do but to fight gallantly and die

with honor.  When he had said this, he put on his helmet, having

the rest of his arms on before he came out of his tent, which were

coat of the Sicilian make, girt close about him, and over that a

breastpiece of thickly quilted linen, which was taken among other

booty at the battle of Issus.  The helmet, which was made by

Theophilus, though of iron, was so well wrought and polished, that

it was as bright as the most refined silver.  To this was fitted a

gorget of the same metal, set with precious stones.  His sword,

which was the weapon he most used in fight, was given him by the

king of the Citieans, and was of an admirable temper and

lightness.  The belt which he also wore in all engagements, was of

much richer workmanship than the rest of his armor.  It was a work

of the ancient Helicon, and had been presented to him by the

Rhodians, as mark of their respect to him.  So long as he was

engaged in drawing up his men, or riding about to give orders or

directions, or to view them, he spared Bucephalas, who was now

growing old, and made use of another horse; but when he was

actually to fight, he sent for him again, and as soon as he was

mounted, commenced the attack.

He made the longest address that day to the Thessalians and other

Greeks, who answered him with loud shouts, desiring him to lead

them on against the barbarians, upon which he shifted his javelin

into his left hand, and with his right lifted up towards heaven,

besought the gods, as Callisthenes tells us, that if he was of a

truth the son of Jupiter, they would he pleased to assist and

strengthen the Grecians.  At the same time the augur Aristander,

who had a white mantle about him, and a crown of gold on his head,

rode by and showed them an eagle that soared just over Alexander,

and directed his Right towards the enemy; which so animated the

beholders, that after mutual encouragements and exhortations, the

horse charged at full speed, and were followed in a mass by the

whole phalanx of the foot.  But before they could well come to

blows with the first ranks, the barbarians shrunk back, and were

hotly pursued by Alexander, who drove those that fled before him

into the middle of the battle, where Darius himself was in person,

whom he saw from a distance over the foremost ranks, conspicuous

in the midst of his life-guard, a tall and fine-looking man, drawn

in a lofty chariot, defended by an abundance of the best horse,

who stood close in order about it, ready to receive the enemy.

But Alexander's approach was so terrible, forcing those who gave

back upon those who yet maintained their ground, that he beat down

and dispersed them almost all.  Only a few of the bravest and

valiantest opposed the pursuit, who were slain in their king's

presence, falling in heaps upon one another, and in the very pangs

of death striving to catch hold of the horses.  Darius now seeing

all was lost, that those who were placed in front to defend him

were broken and beat back upon him, that he could not turn or

disengage his chariot without great difficulty, the wheels being

clogged and entangled among the dead bodies, which lay in such

heaps as not only stopped, but almost covered the horses, and made

them rear and grow so unruly, that the frighted charioteer could

govern them no longer, in this extremity was glad to quit his

chariot and his arms, and mounting, it is said, upon a mare that

had been taken from her foal, betook himself to flight.  But he

had not escaped so either, if Parmenio had not sent fresh

messengers to Alexander, to desire him to return and assist him

against a considerable body of the enemy which yet stood together,

and would not give ground.  For, indeed, Parmenio is on all hands

accused of having been sluggish and unserviceable in this battle,

whether age had impaired his courage, or that, as Callisthenes

says, he secretly disliked and envied Alexander's growing

greatness.  Alexander, though he was not a little vexed to be so

recalled and hindered from pursuing his victory, yet concealed the

true reason from his men, and causing a retreat to be sounded, as

if it were too late to continue the execution any longer, marched

back towards the place of danger, and by the way met with the news

of the enemy's total overthrow and flight.

This battle being thus over, seemed to put a period to the Persian

empire; and Alexander, who was now proclaimed king of Asia,

returned thanks to the gods in magnificent sacrifices, and

rewarded his friends and followers with great sums of money, and

places, and governments of provinces.  And eager to gain honor

with the Grecians, he wrote to them that he would have all

tyrannies abolished, that they might live free according to their

own laws, and specially to the Plataeans, that their city should

be rebuilt, because their ancestors had permitted their countrymen

of old to make their territory the seat of the war, when they

fought with the barbarians for their common liberty.  He sent also

part of the spoils into Italy, to the Crotoniats, to honor the

zeal and courage of their citizen Phayllus, the wrestler, who, in

the Median war, when the other Grecian colonies in Italy disowned

Greece, that he might have a share in the danger, joined the fleet

at Salamis, with a vessel set forth at his own charge.  So

affectionate was Alexander to all kind of virtue, and so desirous

to preserve the memory of laudable actions.

From hence he marched through the province of Babylon, which

immediately submitted to him, and in Ecbatana was much surprised

at the sight of the place where fire issues in a continuous

stream, like a spring of water, out of a cleft in the earth, and

the stream of naphtha, which, not far from this spot, flows out so

abundantly as to form a sort of lake.  This naphtha, in other

respects resembling bitumen, is so subject to take fire, that

before it touches the flame, it will kindle at the very light that

surrounds it, and often inflame the intermediate air also.  The

barbarians, to show the power and nature of it, sprinkled the

street that led to the king's lodgings with little drops of it,

and when it was almost night, stood at the further end with

torches, which being applied to the moistened places, the first at

once taking fire, instantly, as quick as a man could think of it,

it caught from one end to another, in such a manner that the whole

street was one continued flame.  Among those who used to wait on

the king and find occasion to amuse him when he anointed and

washed himself, there was one Athenophanes, an Athenian, who

desired him to make an experiment of the naphtha upon Stephanus,

who stood by in the bathing place, a youth with a ridiculously

ugly face, whose talent was singing well, "For," said he, "if it

take hold of him and is not put out, it must undeniably be allowed

to be of the most invincible strength."  The youth, as it

happened, readily consented to undergo the trial, and as soon as

he was anointed and rubbed with it, his whole body broke out into

such a flame, and was so seized by the fire, that Alexander was

in the greatest perplexity and alarm for him, and not without

reason; for nothing could have prevented his being consumed by it,

if by good chance there had not been people at hand with a great

many vessels of water for the service of the bath, with all which

they had much ado to extinguish the fire; and his body was so

burned all over, that he was not cured of it a good while after.

And thus it is not without some plausibility that they endeavor to

reconcile the fable to truth, who say this was the drug in the

tragedies with which Medea anointed the crown and veil which she

gave to Creon's daughter.  For neither the things themselves, nor

the fire could kindle of its own accord, but being prepared for it

by the naphtha, they imperceptibly attracted and caught a flame

which happened to be brought near them.  For the rays and

emanations of fire at a distance have no other effect upon some

bodies than bare light and heat, but in others, where they meet

with airy dryness, and also sufficient rich moisture, they collect

themselves and soon kindle and create a transformation.  The

manner, however, of the production of naphtha admits of a

diversity of opinion on whether this liquid substance that

feeds the flame does not rather proceed from a soil that is

unctuous and productive of fire, as that of the province of

Babylon is, where the ground is so very hot, that oftentimes the

grains of barley leap up, and are thrown out, as if the violent

inflammation had made the earth throb; and in the extreme heats

the inhabitants are wont to sleep upon skins filled with water.

Harpalus, who was left governor of this country, and was desirous

to adorn the palace gardens and walks with Grecian plants,

succeeded in raising all but ivy, which the earth would not bear,

but constantly killed.  For being a plant that loves a cold soil,

the temper of this hot and fiery earth was improper for it.  But

such digressions as these the impatient reader will be more

willing to pardon, if they are kept within a moderate compass.

At the taking of Susa, Alexander found in the palace forty

thousand talents in money ready coined, besides an unspeakable

quantity of other furniture and treasure; amongst which was five

thousand talents' worth of Hermionian purple, that had been laid

up there a hundred and ninety years, and yet kept its color as

fresh and lively as at first.  The reason of which, they say, is

that in dyeing the purple they made use of honey, and of white oil

in the white tincture, both which after the like space of time

preserve the clearness and brightness of their luster.  Dinon also

relates that the Persian kings had water fetched from the Nile and

the Danube, which they laid up in their treasuries as a sort of

testimony of the greatness of their power and universal empire.

The entrance into Persia was through a most difficult country,

and was guarded by the noblest of the Persians, Darius himself

having escaped further.  Alexander, however, chanced to find a

guide in exact correspondence with what the Pythia had foretold

when he was a child, that a lycus should conduct him into Persia.

For by such an one, whose father was a Lycian, and his mother a

Persian, and who spoke both languages, he was now led into the

country, by a way something about, yet without fetching any

considerable compass.  Here a great many of the prisoners were put

to the sword, of which himself gives this account, that he

commanded them to be killed in the belief that it would be for his

advantage.  Nor was the money found here less, he says, than at

Susa, besides other movables and treasure, as much as ten thousand

pair of mules and five thousand camels could well carry away.

Amongst other things he happened to observe a large statue of

Xerxes thrown carelessly down to the ground in the confusion made

by the multitude of soldiers pressing; into the palace.  He stood

still, and accosting it as if it had been alive, "Shall we," said

he, "neglectfully pass thee by, now thou art prostrate on the

ground, because thou once invadedst Greece, or shall we erect thee

again in consideration of the greatness of thy mind and thy other

virtues?"  But at last, after he had paused some time, and

silently considered with himself, he went on without taking any

further notice of it.  In this place he took up his winter

quarters, and stayed four months to refresh his soldiers.  It is

related that the first time he sat on the royal throne of Persia,

under the canopy of gold, Demaratus, the Corinthian, who was much

attached to him and had been one of his father's friends, wept, in

an old man's manner, and deplored the misfortune of those Creeks

whom death had deprived of the satisfaction of seeing Alexander

seated on the throne of Darius.

From hence designing to march against Darius, before he set out,

he diverted himself with his officers at an entertainment of

drinking and other pastimes, and indulged so far as to let every

one's mistress sit by and drink with them.  The most celebrated of

them was Thais, an Athenian, mistress of Ptolemy, who was

afterwards king of Egypt.  She, partly as a sort of well-turned

compliment to Alexander, partly out of sport, as the drinking went

on, at last was carried so far as to utter a saying, not

misbecoming her native country's character, though somewhat too

lofty for her own condition.  She said it was indeed some

recompense for the toils she had undergone in following the camp

all over Asia, that she was that day treated in, and could insult

over, the stately palace of the Persian monarchs.  But, she added,

it would please her much better, if while the king looked on, she

might in sport, with her own hands, set fire to the court of that

Xerxes who reduced the city of Athens to ashes, that it might be

recorded to posterity, that the women who followed Alexander had

taken a severer revenge on the Persians for the sufferings and

affronts of Greece, than all the famed commanders had been able to

do by sea or land.  What she said was received with such universal

liking and murmurs of applause, and so seconded by the

encouragement and eagerness of the company, that the king himself,

persuaded to be of the party, started from his seat, and with a

chaplet of flowers on his head, and a lighted torch in his hand,

led them the way, while they went after him in a riotous manner,

dancing and making loud cries about the place; which when the rest

of the Macedonians perceived, they also in great delight ran

thither with torches; for they hoped the burning and destruction

of the royal palace was an argument that he looked homeward, and

had no design to reside among the barbarians.  Thus some writers

give their account of this action, while others say it was done

deliberately; however, all agree that he soon repented of it, and

gave order to put out the fire.

Alexander was naturally most munificent, and grew more so as his

fortune increased, accompanying what he gave with that courtesy

and freedom, which, to speak truth, is necessary to make a benefit

really obliging.  I will give a few instances of this kind.

Ariston, the captain of the Paeonians, having killed an enemy,

brought his head to show him, and told him that in his country,

such a present was recompensed with a cup of gold.  "With an empty

one," said Alexander, smiling, "but I drink to you in this, which

I give you full of wine."  Another time, as one of the common

soldier was driving a mule laden with some of the king's treasure,

the beast grew tired, and the soldier took it upon his own back,

and began to march with it, till Alexander seeing the man so

overcharged, asked what was the matter; and when he was informed,

just as he was ready to lay down his burden for weariness, "Do not

faint now," said he to him, "but finish the journey, and carry

what you have there to your own tent for yourself."  He was always

more displeased with those who would not accept of what he gave

than with those who begged of him.  And therefore he wrote to

Phocion, that he would not own him for his friend any longer, if

he refused his presents.  He had never given anything to Serapion,

one of the youths that played at ball with him, because he did not

ask of him, till one day, it coming to Serapion's turn to play, he

still threw the ball to others, and when the king asked him why he

did not direct it to him, "Because you do not ask for it," said

he; which answer pleased him so, that he was very liberal to him

afterwards.  One Proteas, a pleasant, jesting, drinking fellow,

having incurred his displeasure, got his friends to intercede for

him, and begged his pardon himself with tears, which at last

prevailed, and Alexander declared he was friends with him.  "I

cannot believe it," said Proteas, "unless you first give me some

pledge of it."  The king understood his meaning, and presently

ordered five talents to be given him.  How magnificent he was in

enriching his friends, and those who attended on his person,

appears by a letter which Olympias wrote to him, where she tells

him he should reward and honor those about him in a more moderate

way, For now," said she, "you make them all equal to kings, you

give them power and opportunity of making many friends of their

own, and in the meantime you leave yourself destitute."  She

often wrote to him to this purpose, and he never communicated her

letters to anybody, unless it were one which he opened when

Hephaestion was by, whom he permitted, as his custom was, to read

it along with him; but then as soon as he had done, he took off

his ring, and set the seal upon Hephaestion's lips.  Mazaeus, who

was the most considerable man in Darius's court, had a son who was

already governor of a province.  Alexander bestowed another upon

him that was better; he, however, modestly refused, and told him,

instead of one Darius, he went the way to make many Alexanders.

To Parmenio he gave Bagoas's house, in which he found a wardrobe

of apparel worth more than a thousand talents.  He wrote to

Antipater, commanding him to keep a life-guard about him for the

security of his person against conspiracies.  To his mother he

sent many presents, but would never suffer her to meddle with

matters of state or war, not indulging her busy temper, and when

she fell out with him upon this account, he bore her ill-humor

very patiently.  Nay more, when he read a long letter from

Antipater, full of accusations against her, "Antipater," he said,

"does not know that one tear of a mother effaces a thousand such

letters as these."

But when he perceived his favorites grow so luxurious and

extravagant in their way of living and expenses, that Hagnon, the

Teian, wore silver nails in his shoes, that Leonnatus employed

several camels, only to bring him powder out of Egypt to use when

he wrestled, and that Philotas had hunting nets a hundred furlongs

in length, that more used precious ointment than plain oil when

they went to bathe, and that they carried about servants

everywhere with them to rub them and wait upon them in their

chambers, he reproved them in gentle and reasonable terms, telling

them he wondered that they who had been engaged in so many signal

battles did not know by experience, that those who labor sleep

more sweetly and soundly than those who are labored for, and could

fail to see by comparing the Persians' manner of living with their

own, that it was the most abject and slavish condition to be

voluptuous, but the most noble arid royal to undergo pain and

labor.  He argued with them further, how it was possible for anyone

who pretended to be a soldier, either to look well after his

horse, or to keep his armor bright and in good order, who thought

it much to let his hands be serviceable to what was nearest to

him, his own body.  "Are you still to learn," said he, "that the

end and perfection of our victories is to avoid the vices and

infirmities of those whom we subdue?"  And to strengthen his

precepts by example, he applied himself now more vigorously than

ever to hunting and warlike expeditions, embracing all

opportunities of hardship and danger, insomuch that a

Lacedaemonian, who was there on an embassy to him, and chanced to

be by when he encountered with and mastered a huge lion, told him

he had fought gallantly with the beast, which of the two should be

king.  Craterus caused a representation to be made of this

adventure, consisting of the lion and the dogs, of the king

engaged with the lion, and himself coming in to his assistance,

all expressed in figures of brass, some of which were by Lysippus,

and the rest by Leochares; and had it dedicated in the temple of

Apollo at Delphi.  Alexander exposed his person to danger in this

manner, with the object both of inuring himself, and inciting

others to the performance of brave and virtuous actions.

But his followers, who were grown rich, and consequently proud,

longed to indulge themselves in pleasure and idleness, and were

weary of marches and expeditions, and at last went on so far as to

censure and speak ill of him.  All which at first he bore very

patiently, saying, it became a king well to do good to others, and

be evil spoken of.  Meantime, on the smallest occasions that

called for a show of kindness to his friends, there was every

indication on his part of tenderness and respect.  Hearing

Peucestes was bitten by a bear, he wrote to him, that he took it

unkindly he should send others notice of it, and not make him

acquainted with it; "But now," said he, "since it is so, let me

know how you do, and whether any of your companions forsook you

when you were in danger, that I may punish them."  He sent

Hephaestion, who was absent about some business, word how while

they were fighting for their diversion with an ichneumon, Craterus

was by chance run through both thighs with Perdiccas's javelin.

And upon Peucestes's recovery from a fit of sickness, he sent a

letter of thanks to his physician Alexippus.  When Craterus was

ill, he saw a vision in his sleep, after which he offered

sacrifices for his health, and bade him to do so likewise.  He

wrote also to Pausanias, the physician, who was about to purge

Craterus with hellebore, partly out of an anxious concern for him,

and partly to give him a caution how he used that medicine.  He

was so tender of his friends' reputation that he imprisoned

Ephialtes and Cissus, who brought him the first news of Harpalus's

flight and withdrawal from his service, as if they had falsely

accused him.  When he sent the old and infirm soldiers home,

Eurylochus, a citizen of Aegae, got his name enrolled among the

sick, though he ailed nothing, which being discovered, he

confessed he was in love with a young woman named Telesippa, and

wanted to go along with her to the seaside.  Alexander inquired to

whom the woman belonged, and being told she was a free courtesan,

"I will assist you," said he to Eurylochus, "in your amour, if

your mistress be to be gained either by presents or persuasions;

but we must use no other means, because she is free-born."

It is surprising to consider upon what slight occasions he would

write letters to serve his friends.  As when he wrote one in which

he gave order to search for a youth that belonged to Seleucus, who

was run away into Cilicia; and in another, thanked and commended

Peucestes for apprehending Nicon, a servant of Craterus; and in

one to Megabyzus, concerning a slave that had taken sanctuary in a

temple, gave direction that he should not meddle with him while he

was there, but if he could entice him out by fair means, then he

gave him leave to seize him.  It is reported of him that when he

first sat in judgment upon capital causes, he would lay his hand

upon one of his ears while the accuser spoke, to keep it free and

unprejudiced in behalf of the party accused.  But afterwards such

a multitude of accusations were brought before him, and so many

proved true, that he lost his tenderness of heart, and gave credit

to those also that were false; and especially when anybody spoke

ill of him, he would be transported out of his reason, and show

himself cruel and inexorable, valuing his glory and reputation

beyond his life or kingdom.

He now, as we said, set forth to seek Darius, expecting he should

be put to the hazard of another battle, but heard he was taken and

secured by Bessus, upon which news he sent home the Thessalians,

and gave them a largess of two thousand talents over and above the

pay that was due to them.  This long and painful pursuit of

Darius, for in eleven days he marched thirty-three hundred

furlongs, harassed his soldiers so that most of them were ready to

give it up, chiefly for want of water.  While they were in this

distress, it happened that some Macedonians who had fetched water

in skins upon their mules from a river they had found out, came

about noon to the place where Alexander was, and seeing him almost

choked with thirst, presently filled a helmet and offered it him.

He asked them to whom they were carrying the water; they told him

to their children, adding, that if his life were but saved, it was

no matter for them, they should be able well enough to repair that

loss, though they all perished.  Then he took the helmet into his

hands, and looking round about, when he saw all those who were

near him stretching their heads out and looking, earnestly after

the drink, he returned it again with thanks without tasting a drop

of it, "For," said he, "if I alone should drink, the rest will be

out of heart."  The soldiers no sooner took notice of his

temperance and magnanimity upon this occasion, but they one and

all cried out to him to lead them forward boldly, and began

whipping on their horses.  For whilst they had such a king, they

said they defied both weariness and thirst, and looked upon

themselves to be little less than immortal.  But though they were

all equally cheerful and willing, yet not above threescore horse

were able, it is said, to keep up, and to fall in with Alexander

upon the enemy's camp, where they rode over abundance of gold and

silver that lay scattered about, and passing by a great many

chariots full of women that wandered here and there for want of

drivers, they endeavored to overtake the first of those that fled,

in hopes to meet with Darius among them.  And at last, after much

trouble, they found him lying in a chariot, wounded all over with

darts, just at the point of death.  However, he desired they would

give him some drink, and when he had drunk a little cold water, he

told Polystratus, who gave it him, that it had become the last

extremity of his ill fortune, to receive benefits and not be able

to return them.  "But Alexander," said he, "whose kindness to my

mother, my wife, and my children I hope the gods will recompense,

will doubtless thank you for your humanity to me.  Tell him,

therefore, in token of my acknowledgment, I give him this right

hand," with which words he took hold of Polystratus's hand and

died.  When Alexander came up to them, he showed manifest tokens

of sorrow, and taking off his own cloak, threw it upon the body to

cover it.  And sometime afterwards, when Bessus was taken, he

ordered him to be torn in pieces in this manner.  They fastened

him to a couple of trees which were bound down so as to meet, and

then being let loose, with a great force returned to their places,

each of them carrying that part of the body along with it that was

tied to it.  Darius's body was laid in state, and sent to his

mother with pomp suitable to his quality.  His brother Exathres,

Alexander received into the number of his intimate friends.

And now with the flower of his army he marched into Hyrcania,

where he saw a large bay of an open sea, apparently not much less

than the Euxine, with water, however, sweeter than that of other

seas, but could learn nothing of certainty concerning it, further

than that in all probability it seemed to him to be an arm

issuing from the lake of Maeotis.  However, the naturalists were

better informed of the truth, and had given an account of it many

years before Alexander's expedition; that of four gulfs which out

of the main sea enter into the continent, this, known

indifferently as the Caspian and as the Hyrcanian sea, is the most

northern.  Here the barbarians, unexpectedly meeting with those

who led Bucephalas, took them prisoners, and carried the horse

away with them, at which Alexander was so much vexed, that he sent

a herald to let them know he would put them all to the sword,

men, women, and children, without mercy, if they did not restore

him.  But on their doing so, and at the same time surrendering

their cities into his hands, he not only treated them kindly, but

also paid a ramsom for his horse to those who took him.

From hence he marched into Parthia, where not having much to do,

he first put on the barbaric dress, perhaps with the view of

making the work of civilizing them the easier, as nothing gains

more upon men than a conformity to their fashions and customs.  Or

it may have been as a first trial, whether the Macedonians might

be brought to adore him, as the Persians did their kings, by

accustoming them by little and little to bear with the alteration

of his rule and course of life in other things.  However, he

followed not the Median fashion, which was altogether foreign and

uncouth, and adopted neither the trousers nor the sleeved vest,

nor the tiara for the head, but taking a middle way between the

Persian mode and the Macedonian, so contrived his habit that it

was not so flaunting as the one, and yet more pompous and

magnificent than the other.  At first he wore this habit only when

he conversed with the barbarians, or within doors, among his

intimate friends and companions, but afterwards he appeared in it

abroad, when he rode out, and at public audiences, a sight which

the Macedonians beheld with grief; but they so respected his other

virtues and good qualities, that they felt it reasonable in some

things to gratify his fancies and his passion of glory, in pursuit

of which he hazarded himself so far, that, besides his other

adventures, he had but lately been wounded in the leg by an arrow,

which had so shattered the shank-bone that splinters were taken

out.  And on another occasion he received a violent blow with a

stone upon the nape of the neck, which dimmed his sight for a good

while afterwards.  And yet all this could not hinder him from

exposing himself freely to any dangers, insomuch that he passed

the river Orexartes, which he took to be the Tanais, and putting

the Scythians to flight, followed them above a hundred furlongs,

though suffering all the time from a diarrhea.

Here many affirm that the Amazon came to give him a visit.  So

Clitarchus, Polyclitus, Onesicritus, Antigenes, and Ister, tell

us.  But Aristobulus and Chares, who held the office of reporter

of requests, Ptolemy and Anticlides, Philon the Theban, Philip of

Theangela, Hecataeus the Eretrian, Philip the Chalcidian, and

Duris the Samian, say it is wholly a fiction.  And truly Alexander

himself seems to confirm the latter statement, for in a letter in

which he gives Antipater an account of all that happened, he tells

him that the king of Scythia offered him his daughter in marriage,

but makes no mention at all of the Amazon.  And many years after,

when Onesicritus read this story in his fourth book to Lysimachus,

who then reigned, the king laughed quietly and asked, "Where could

I have been at that time?"

But it signifies little to Alexander whether this be credited or

no.  Certain it is, that apprehending the Macedonians would be

weary of pursuing the war, he left the greater part of them in

their quarters; and having with him in Hyrcania the choice of his

men only, amounting to twenty thousand foot, and three thousand

horse, he spoke to them to this effect:  That hitherto the

barbarians had seen them no otherwise than as it were in a dream,

and if they should think of returning when they had only alarmed

Asia, and not conquered it, their enemies would set upon them as

upon so many women.  However, he told them he would keep none of

them with him against their will, they might go if they pleased;

he should merely enter his protest, that when on his way to make

the Macedonians the masters of the world, he was left alone with a

few friends and volunteers.  This is almost word for word, as he

wrote in a letter to Antipater, where he adds, that when he had

thus spoken to them, they all cried out, they would go along with

him whithersoever it was his pleasure to lead them.  After

succeeding with these, it was no hard matter for him to bring over

the multitude, which easily followed the example of their betters.

Now, also, he more and more accommodated himself in his way of

living to that of the natives, and tried to bring them, also, as

near as he could to the Macedonian customs, wisely considering

that whilst he was engaged in an expedition which would carry him

far from thence, it would be wiser to depend upon the goodwill

which might arise from intermixture and association as a means of

maintaining tranquillity, than upon force and compulsion.  In

order to this, he chose out thirty thousand boys, whom he put

under masters to teach them the Greek tongue, and to train them up

to arms in the Macedonian discipline.  As for his marriage with

Roxana, whose youthfulness and beauty had charmed him at a

drinking entertainment, where he first happened to see her, taking

part in a dance, it was, indeed, a love affair, yet it seemed at

the same time to be conducive to the object he had in hand.  For

it gratified the conquered people to see him choose a wife from

among themselves, and it made them feel the most lively affection

for him, to find that in the only passion which he, the most

temperate of men, was overcome by, he yet forbore till he could

obtain her in a lawful and honorable way.

Noticing, also, that among his chief friends and favorites,

Hephaestion most approved all that he did, and complied with and

imitated him in his change of habits, while Craterus continued

strict in the observation of the customs and fashions of his own

country, he made it his practice to employ the first in all

transactions with the Persians, and the latter when he had to do

with the Greeks or Macedonians.  And in general he showed more

affection for Hephaestion, and more respect for Craterus;

Hephaestion, as he used to say, being Alexander's, and Craterus

the king's friend.  And so these two friends always bore in secret

a grudge to each other, and at times quarreled openly, so much so,

that once in India they drew upon one another, and were proceeding

in good earnest, with their friends on each side to second them,

when Alexander rode up and publicly reproved Hephaestion, calling

him fool and madman, not to be sensible that without his favor he

was nothing.  He rebuked Craterus, also, in private, severely, and

then causing them both to come into his presence, he reconciled

them, at the same time swearing by Ammon and the rest of the gods,

that he loved them two above all other men, but if ever he

perceived them fall out again he would be sure to put both of them

to death, or at least the aggressor.  After which they neither

ever did or said anything, so much as in jest, to offend one

another.

There was scarcely anyone who had greater repute among the

Macedonians than Philotas, the son of Parmenio.  For besides that

he was valiant and able to endure any fatigue of war, he was also

next to Alexander himself the most munificent, and the greatest

lover of his friends, one of whom asking him for some money, he

commanded his steward to give it him; and when he told him he had

not wherewith, "Have you not any plate then," said he, "or any

clothes of mine to sell?"  But he carried his arrogance and his

pride of wealth and his habits of display and luxury to a degree

of assumption unbecoming a private man, and affecting all the

loftiness without succeeding in showing any of the grace or

gentleness of true greatness, by this mistaken and spurious

majesty he gained so much envy and ill-will, that Parmenio would

sometimes tell him, "My son, to be not quite so great would be

better."  For he had long before been complained of, and accused

to Alexander.  Particularly when Darius was defeated in Cilicia,

and an immense booty was taken at Damascus, among the rest of the

prisoners who were brought into the camp, there was one Antigone

of Pydna, a very handsome woman, who fell to Philotas's share.

The young man one day in his cups, in the vaunting, outspoken,

soldier's manner, declared to his mistress, that all the great

actions were performed by him and his father, the glory and

benefit of which, he said, together with the title of king, the

boy Alexander reaped and enjoyed by their means.  She could not

hold, but discovered what he had said to one of her acquaintance,

and he, as is usual in such cases, to another, till at last the

story came to the ears of Craterus, who brought the woman secretly

to the king.  When Alexander had heard what she had to say, he

commanded her to continue her intrigue with Philotas, and give him

an account from time to time of all that should fall from him to

this purpose.  He thus unwittingly caught in a snare, to gratify

some times a fit of anger, sometimes a mere love of vainglory, let

himself utter numerous foolish, indiscreet speeches against the

king in Antigone's hearing, of which though Alexander was informed

and convinced by strong evidence, yet he would take no notice of

it at present, whether it was that he confided in Parmenio's

affection and loyalty, or that he apprehended their authority and

interest in the army.  But about this time one Limnus, a

Macedonian of Chalastra, conspired against Alexander's life, and

communicated his design to a youth whom he was fond of, named

Nicomachus, inviting him to be of the party.  But he not relishing

the thing, revealed it to his brother Balinus, who immediately

addressed himself to Philotas, requiring him to introduce them

both to Alexander, to whom they had something of great moment to

impart which very nearly concerned him.  But he, for what reason

is uncertain, went not with them, professing that the king was

engaged with affairs of more importance.  And when they had urged

him a second time, and were still slighted by him, they applied

themselves to another, by whose means being admitted into

Alexander's presence, they first told about Limnus's conspiracy,

and by the way let Philotas's negligence appear, who had twice

disregarded their application to him.  Alexander was greatly

incensed, and on finding that Limnus had defended himself, and had

been killed by the soldier who was sent to seize him, he was still

more discomposed, thinking he had thus lost the means of detecting

the plot.  As soon as his displeasure against Philotas began to

appear, presently all his old enemies showed themselves, and said

openly, the king was too easily imposed on, to imagine that one so

inconsiderable as Limnus, a Chalastrian, should of his own head

undertake such an enterprise; that in all likelihood he was but

subservient to the design, an instrument that was moved by some

greater spring; that those ought to be more strictly examined

about the matter whose interest it was so much to conceal it.

When they had once gained the king's ear for insinuations of this

sort, they went on to show a thousand grounds of suspicion against

Philotas, till at last they prevailed to have him seized and put

to the torture, which was done in the presence of the principal

officers, Alexander himself being placed behind some tapestry to

understand what passed.  Where, when he heard in what a miserable

tone, and with what abject submissions Philotas applied himself to

Hephaestion, he broke out, it is said, in this manner:  "Are you

so mean-spirited and effeminate, Philotas, and yet can engage in

so desperate a design?"  After his death, he presently sent into

Media, and put also Parmenio, his father, to death, who had done

brave service under Philip, and was the only man, of his older

friends and counselors, who had encouraged Alexander to invade

Asia.  Of three sons whom he had had in the army, he had already

lost two, and now was himself put to death with the third.  These

actions rendered Alexander an object of terror to many of his

friends, and chiefly to Antipater, who, to strengthen himself,

sent messengers privately to treat for an alliance with the

Aetolians, who stood in fear of Alexander, because they had

destroyed the town of the Oeniadae; on being informed of which,

Alexander had said the children of the Oeniadae need not revenge

their fathers' quarrel, for he would himself take care to punish

the Aetolians.

Not long after this happened the deplorable end of Clitus, which

to those who barely hear the matter-of-fact, may seem more inhuman

than that of Philotas; but if we consider the story with its

circumstance of time, and weigh the cause, we shall find it to

have occurred rather through a sort of mischance of the king's,

whose anger and over-drinking offered an occasion to the evil

genius of Clitus.  The king had a present of Grecian fruit brought

him from the sea-coast, which was so fresh and beautiful, that he

was surprised at it, and called Clitus to him to see it, and to

give him a share of it.  Clitus was then sacrificing, but he

immediately left off and came, followed by three sheep, on whom

the drink-offering had been already poured preparatory to

sacrificing them.  Alexander, being informed of this, told his

diviners, Aristander and Cleomantis the Lacedaemonian, and asked

them what it meant; on whose assuring him, it was an ill omen, he

commanded them in all haste to offer sacrifices for Clitus's

safety, forasmuch as three days before he himself had seen a

strange vision in his sleep, of Clitus all in mourning, sitting by

Parmenio's sons who were dead.  Clitus, however, stayed not to

finish his devotions, but came straight to supper with the king,

who had sacrificed to Castor and Pollux.  And when they had drunk

pretty hard, some of the company fell a singing the verses of one

Pranichus, or as others say of Pierion, which were made upon those

captains who had been lately worsted by the barbarians, on purpose

to disgrace and turn them to ridicule.  This gave offense to the

older men who were there, and they upbraided both the author and

the singer of the verses, though Alexander and the younger men

about him were much amused to hear them, and encouraged them to go

on, till at last Clitus, who had drunk too much, and was besides

of a froward and willful temper, was so nettled that he could hold

no longer, saying, it was not well done to expose the Macedonians

so before the barbarians and their enemies, since though it was

their unhappiness to be overcome, yet they were much better men

than those who laughed at them.  And when Alexander remarked, that

Clitus was pleading his own cause, giving cowardice the name of

misfortune, Clitus started up; "This cowardice, as you are pleased

to term it," said he to him, "saved the life of a son of the gods,

when in flight from Spithridates's sword; and it is by the expense

of Macedonian blood, and by these wounds, that you are now raised

to such a height, as to be able to disown your father Philip, and

call yourself the Son of Ammon."  "Thou base fellow," said

Alexander, who was now thoroughly exasperated, "dost thou think to

utter these things everywhere of me, and stir up the Macedonians

to sedition, and not be punished for it?"  "We are sufficiently

punished already," answered Clitus, "if this be the recompense of

our toils, and we must esteem theirs a happy lot, who have not

lived to see their countrymen scourged with Median rods, and

forced to sue to the Persians to have access to their king."

While he talked thus at random, and those near Alexander got up

from their seats and began to revile him in turn, the elder men

did what they could to compose the disorder.  Alexander, in the

meantime turning about to Xenodochus, the Cardian, and Artemius,

the Colophonian, asked them if they were not of opinion that the

Greeks, in comparison with the Macedonians, behaved themselves

like so many demi-gods among wild beasts.  But Clitus for all this

would not give over, desiring Alexander to speak out if he had

anything more to say, or else why did he invite men who were

freeborn and accustomed to speak their minds openly without

restraint, to sup with him.  He had better live and converse with

barbarians and slaves who would not scruple to bow the knee to his

Persian girdle and his white tunic.  Which words so provoked

Alexander, that not able to suppress his anger any longer, he threw

one of the apples that lay upon the table at him, and hit him, and

then looked about for his sword.  But Aristophanes, one of his

life-guard, had hid that out of the way, and others came about him

and besought him, but in vain.  For breaking from them, he called

out aloud to his guards in the Macedonian language, which was a

certain sign of some great disturbance in him, and commanded a

trumpeter to sound, giving him a blow with his clenched fist for

not instantly obeying him; though afterwards the same man was

commended for disobeying an order which would have put the whole

army into tumult and confusion.  Clitus still refusing to yield,

was with much trouble forced by his friends out of the room.  But

he came in again immediately at another door, very irreverently

and confidently singing the verses out of Euripides's Andromache, —

In Greece, alas! how ill things ordered are!

Upon this, at last, Alexander, snatching a spear from one of the

soldiers, met Clitus as he was coming forward and was putting by

the curtain that hung before the door, and ran him through the

body.  He fell at once with a cry and a groan.  Upon which the

king's anger immediately vanishing, he came perfectly to himself,

and when he saw his friends about him all in a profound silence,

he pulled the spear out of the dead body, and would have thrust it

into his own throat, if the guards had not held his hands, and by

main force carried him away into his chamber, where all that night

and the next day he wept bitterly, till being quite spent with

lamenting and exclaiming, he lay as it were speechless, only

fetching deep sighs.  His friends apprehending some harm from his

silence, broke into the room, but he took no notice of what any of

them said, till Aristander putting him in mind of the vision he

had seen concerning Clitus, and the prodigy that followed, as if

all had come to pass by an unavoidable fatality, he then seemed to

moderate his grief.  They now brought Callisthenes, the

philosopher, who was the near friend of Aristotle, and Anaxarchus

of Abdera, to him.  Callisthenes used moral language, and gentle

and soothing means, hoping to find access for words of reason, and

get a hold upon the passion.  But Anaxarchus, who had always taken

a course of his own in philosophy, and had a name for despising

and slighting his contemporaries, as soon as he came in, cried out

aloud, "Is this the Alexander whom the whole world looks to, lying

here weeping like a slave, for fear of the censure and reproach of

men, to whom he himself ought to be a law and measure of equity,

if he would use the right his conquests have given him as supreme

lord and governor of all, and not be the victim of a vain and idle

opinion?  Do not you know," said he, "that Jupiter is represented

to have Justice and Law on each hand of him, to signify that all

the actions of a conqueror are lawful and just?"  With these and

the like speeches, Anaxarchus indeed allayed the king's grief, but

withal corrupted his character, rendering him more audacious and

lawless than he had been.  Nor did he fail by these means to

insinuate himself into his favor, and to make Callisthenes's

company, which at all times, because of his austerity, was not

very acceptable, more uneasy and disagreeable to him.

It happened that these two philosophers meeting at an

entertainment, where conversation turned on the subject of climate

and the temperature of the air, Callisthenes joined with their

opinion, who held that those countries were colder, and the winter

sharper there than in Greece.  Anaxarchus would by no means allow

this, but argued against it with some heat.  "Surely," said

Callisthenes, "you cannot but admit this country to be colder than

Greece, for there you used to have but one threadbare cloak to

keep out the coldest winter, and here you have three good warm

mantles one over another."  This piece of raillery irritated

Anaxarchus and the other pretenders to learning, and the crowd of

flatterers in general could not endure to see Callisthenes so much

admired and followed by the youth, and no less esteemed by the

older men for his orderly life, and his gravity, and for being

contented with his condition; all confirming what he had professed

about the object he had in his journey to Alexander, that it was

only to get his countrymen recalled from banishment, and to

rebuild and repeople his native town.  Besides the envy which his

great reputation raised, he also, by his own deportment, gave

those who wished him ill, opportunity to do him mischief.  For

when he was invited to public entertainments, he would most times

refuse to come, or if he were present at any, he put a constraint

upon the company by his austerity and silence, which seemed to

intimate his disapproval of what he saw.  So that Alexander

himself said in application to him,

That vain pretense to wisdom I detest,

Where a man's blind to his own interest.

Being with many more invited to sup with the king, he was called

upon when the cup came to him, to make an oration extempore in

praise of the Macedonians; and he did it with such a flow of

eloquence, that all who heard it rose from their seats to clap and

applaud him, and threw their garland upon him; only Alexander told

him out of Euripides,

I wonder not that you have spoke so well,

'Tis easy on good subjects to excel.

"Therefore," said he, "if you will show the force of your

eloquence, tell my Macedonians their faults, and dispraise them,

that by hearing their errors they may learn to he better for the

future."  Callisthenes presently obeyed him, retracting all he had

said before, and, inveighing against the Macedonians with great

freedom, added, that Philip thrived and grew powerful, chiefly by

the discord of the Grecians, applying this verse to him:—

In civil strife e'en villains rise to fame;

which so offended the Macedonians, that he was odious to them ever

after.  And Alexander said, that instead of his eloquence, he had

only made his ill-will appear in what he had spoken.  Hermippus

assures us, that one Stroebus, a servant whom Callisthenes kept to

read to him, gave this account of these passages afterwards to

Aristotle; and that when he perceived the king grow more and more

averse to him, two or three times, as he was going away, he

repeated the verses, —

Death seiz'd at last on great Patroclus too,

Though he in virtue far exceeded you.

Not without reason, therefore, did Aristotle give this character

of Callisthenes, that he was, indeed, a powerful speaker, but had

no judgment.  He acted certainly a true philosopher's part in

positively refusing, as he did, to pay adoration; and by speaking

out openly against that which the best and gravest of the

Macedonians only repined at in secret, he delivered the Grecians

and Alexander himself from a great disgrace, when the practice was

given up.  But he ruined himself by it, because he went too

roughly to work, as if he would have forced the king to that which

he should have effected by reason and persuasion.  Chares of

Mitylene writes, that at a banquet, Alexander, after he had drunk,

reached the cup to one of his friends, who, on receiving it, rose

up towards the domestic altar, and when he had drunk, first

adored, and then kissed Alexander, and afterwards laid himself

down at the table with the rest.  Which they all did one after

another, till it came to Callisthenes's turn, who took the cup and

drank, while the king who was engaged in conversation with

Hephaestion was not observing, and then came and offered to kiss

him.  But Demetrius, surnamed Phidon, interposed, saying, "Sir, by

no means let him kiss you, for he only of us all has refused to

adore you;" upon which the king declined it, and all the concern

Callisthenes showed was, that he said aloud, "Then I go away with

a kiss less than the rest."  The displeasure he incurred by this

action procured credit for Hephaestion's declaration that he had

broken his word to him in not paying the king the same veneration

that others did, as he had faithfully promised to do.  And to

finish his disgrace, a number of such men as Lysimachus and Hagnon

now came in with their asseverations that the sophist went about

everywhere boasting of his resistance to arbitrary power, and that

the young men all ran after him, and honored him as the only man

among so many thousands who had the courage to preserve his

liberty.  Therefore when Hermolaus's conspiracy came to be

discovered, the charges which his enemies brought against him were

the more easily believed, particularly that when the young man

asked him what he should do to be the most illustrious person on

earth, he told him the readiest way was to kill him who was

already so; and that to incite him to commit the deed, he bade him

not be awed by the golden couch, but remember Alexander was a man

equally infirm and vulnerable as another.  However, none of

Hermolaus's accomplices, in the utmost extremity, made any mention

of Callisthenes's being engaged in the design.  Nay, Alexander

himself, in the letters which he wrote soon after to Craterus,

Attalus, and Alcetas, tells them that the young men who were put

to the torture, declared they had entered into the conspiracy of

themselves, without any others being privy to, or guilty of it.

But yet afterwards, in a letter to Antipater, he accuses

Callisthenes.  "The young men," he says, "were stoned to death by

the Macedonians, but for the sophist," (meaning Callisthenes,) "I

will take care to punish him with them too who sent him to me, and

who harbor those in their cities who conspire against my life," an

unequivocal declaration against Aristotle, in whose house

Callisthenes, for his relationship's sake, being his niece Hero's

son, had been educated.  His death is variously related.  Some say

he was hanged by Alexander's orders; others, that he died of

sickness in prison; but Chares writes he was kept in chains seven

months after he was apprehended, on purpose that he might be

proceeded against in full council, when Aristotle should be

present; and that growing very fat, and contracting a disease of

vermin, he there died, about the time that Alexander was wounded

in India, in the country of the Malli Oxydracae, all which came

to pass afterwards.

For to go on in order, Demaratus of Corinth, now quite an old man,

had made a great effort, about this time, to pay Alexander a

visit; and when he had seen him, said he pitied the misfortune of

those Grecians, who were so unhappy as to die before they had

beheld Alexander seated on the throne of Darius.  But he did not

long enjoy the benefit of the king's kindness for him, any

otherwise than that soon after falling sick and dying, he had a

magnificent funeral, and the army raised him a monument of earth,

fourscore cubits high, and of a vast circumference.  His ashes

were conveyed in a very rich chariot, drawn by four horses, to the

seaside.

Alexander now intent upon his expedition into India, took notice

that his soldiers were so charged with booty that it hindered

their marching.  Therefore, at break of day, as soon as the

baggage wagons were laden, first he set fire to his own, and to

those of his friends, and then commanded those to be burnt which

belonged to the rest of the army.  An act which in the

deliberation of it had seemed more dangerous and difficult than it

proved in the execution, with which few were dissatisfied; for

most of the soldiers, as if they had been inspired, uttering loud

outcries and warlike shoutings, supplied one another with what was

absolutely necessary, and burnt and destroyed all that was

superfluous, the sight of which redoubled Alexander's zeal and

eagerness for his design.  And, indeed, he was now grown very

severe and inexorable in punishing those who committed any fault.

For he put Menander, one of his friends, to death, for deserting a

fortress where he had placed him in garrison, and shot Orsodates,

one of the barbarians who revolted from him, with his own hand.

At this time a sheep happened to yean a lamb, with the perfect

shape and color of a tiara upon the head, and testicles on each

side; which portent Alexander regarded with such dislike, that he

immediately caused his Babylonian priests, whom he usually carried

about with him for such purposes, to purify him, and told his

friends he was not so much concerned for his own sake as for

theirs, out of an apprehension that after his death the divine

power might suffer his empire to fall into the hands of some

degenerate, impotent person.  But this fear was soon removed by a

wonderful thing that happened not long after, and was thought to

presage better.  For Proxenus, a Macedonian, who was the chief of

those who looked to the king's furniture, as he was breaking up

the ground near the river Oxus, to set up the royal pavilion,

discovered a spring of a fat, oily liquor, which after the top was

taken off, ran pure, clear oil, without any difference either of

taste or smell, having exactly the same smoothness and brightness,

and that, too, in a country where no olives grew.  The water,

indeed, of the river Oxus, is said to be the smoothest to the

feeling of all waters, and to leave a gloss on the skins of those

who bathe themselves in it.  Whatever might be the cause, certain

it is that Alexander was wonderfully pleased with it, as appears

by his letters to Antipater, where he speaks of it as one of the

most remarkable presages that God had ever favored him with.  The

diviners told him it signified his expedition would be glorious in

the event, but very painful, and attended with many difficulties;

for oil, they said, was bestowed on mankind by God as a

refreshment of their labors.

Nor did they judge amiss, for he exposed himself to many hazards

in the battles which he fought, and received very severe wounds,

but the greatest loss in his army was occasioned through the

unwholesomeness of the air, and the want of necessary provisions.

But he still applied himself to overcome fortune and whatever

opposed him, by resolution and virtue, and thought nothing

impossible to true intrepidity, and on the other hand nothing

secure or strong for cowardice.  It is told of him that when he

besieged Sisimithres, who held an inaccessible, impregnable rock

against him, and his soldiers began to despair of taking it, he

asked Oxyartes whether Sisimithres was a man of courage, who

assuring him he was the greatest coward alive, "Then you tell me,"

said he, "that the place may easily be taken, since what is in

command of it is weak."  And in a little time he so terrified

Sisimithres, that he took it without any difficulty.  At an attack

which he made upon such another precipitous place with some of his

Macedonian soldiers, he called to one whose name was Alexander,

and told him, he at any rate must fight bravely, if it were but

for his name's sake.  The youth fought gallantly and was killed in

the action, at which he was sensibly afflicted.  Another time,

seeing his men march slowly and unwillingly to the siege of the

place called Nysa, because of a deep river between them and the

town, he advanced before them, and standing upon the bank, "What a

miserable man," said he, "am I, that I have not learned to swim!"

and then was hardly dissuaded from endeavoring to pass it upon his

shield.  Here, after the assault was over, the ambassadors who

from several towns which he had blocked up, came to submit to him

and make their peace, were surprised to find him still in his

armor, without anyone in waiting or attendance upon him, and when

at last some one brought him a cushion, he made the eldest of

them, named Acuphis, take it and sit down upon it.  The old man,

marveling at his magnanimity and courtesy, asked him what his

countrymen should do to merit his friendship.  "I would have

them," said Alexander, "choose you to govern them, and send one

hundred of the most worthy men among them to remain with me as

hostages."  Acuphis laughed and answered, "I shall govern them

with more ease, Sir, if I send you so many of the worst, rather

than the best of my subjects."

The extent of king Taxiles's dominions in India was thought to be

as large as Egypt, abounding in good pastures, and producing

beautiful fruits.  The king himself had the reputation of a wise

man, and at his first interview with Alexander, he spoke to him

in these terms:  "To what purpose," said he, "should we make war

upon one another, if the design of your coming into these parts be

not to rob us of our water or our necessary food, which are the

only things that wise men are indispensably obliged to fight for?

As for other riches and possessions, as they are accounted in the

eye of the world, if I am better provided of them than you, I am

ready to let you share with me; but if fortune has been more

liberal to you than me, I have no objection to be obliged to you."

This discourse pleased Alexander so much, that embracing him, "Do

you think," said he to him, "your kind words and courteous

behavior will bring you off in this interview without a contest?

No, you shall not escape so.  I shall contend and do battle with

you so far, that how obliging soever you are, you shall not have

the better of me."  Then receiving some presents from him, he

returned him others of greater value, and to complete his bounty,

gave him in money ready coined one thousand talents; at which his

old friends were much displeased, but it gained him the hearts of

many of the barbarians.  But the best soldiers of the Indians now

entering into the pay of several of the cities, undertook to

defend them, and did it so bravely, that they put Alexander to a

great deal of trouble, till at last, after a capitulation, upon

the surrender of the place, he fell upon them as they were

marching away, and put them all to the sword.  This one breach of

his word remains as a blemish upon his achievements in war, which

he otherwise had performed throughout with that justice and honor

that became a king.  Nor was he less incommoded by the Indian

philosophers, who inveighed against those princes who joined his

party, and solicited the free nations to oppose him.  He took

several of these also, and caused them to be hanged.

Alexander, in his own letters, has given us an account of his war

with Porus.  He says the two armies were separated by the river

Hydaspes, on whose opposite bank Porus continually kept his

elephants in order of battle, with their heads towards their

enemies, to guard the passage; that he, on the other hand, made

every day a great noise and clamor in his camp, to dissipate the

apprehensions of the barbarians; that one stormy dark night he

passed the river, at a distance from the place where the enemy

lay, into a little island, with part of his foot, and the best of

his horse.  Here there fell a most violent storm of rain,

accompanied with lightning and whirlwinds, and seeing some of his

men burnt and dying with the lightning, he nevertheless quitted

the island and made over to the other side.  The Hydaspes, he

says, now after the storm, was so swollen and grown so rapid, as

to have made a breach in the bank, and a part of the river was now

pouring in here, so that when he came across, it was with

difficulty he got a footing on the land, which was slippery and

unsteady, and exposed to the force of the currents on both sides.

This is the occasion when he is related to have said, "O ye

Athenians, will ye believe what dangers I incur to merit your

praise?"  This, however, is Onesicritus's story.  Alexander says,

here the men left their boats, and passed the breach in their

armor, up to the breast in water, and that then he advanced with

his horse about twenty furlongs before his foot, concluding that

if the enemy charged him with their cavalry, he should be too

strong for them; if with their foot, his own would come up time

enough to his assistance.  Nor did he judge amiss; for being

charged by a thousand horse, and sixty armed chariots, which

advanced before their main body, he took all the chariots, and

killed four hundred horse upon the place.  Porus, by this time

guessing that Alexander himself had crossed over, came on with his

whole army, except a party which he left behind, to hold the rest

of the Macedonians in play, if they should attempt to pass the

river.  But he, apprehending the multitude of the enemy, and to

avoid the shock of their elephants, dividing his forces, attacked

their left wing himself, and commanded Coenus to fall upon the

right, which was performed with good success.  For by this means

both wings being broken, the enemies fell back in their retreat

upon the center, and crowded in upon their elephants.  There

rallying, they fought a hand to hand battle, and it was the eighth

hour of the day before they were entirely defeated.  This

description the conqueror himself has left us in his own epistles.

Almost all the historians agree in relating that Porus was four

cubits and a span high, and that when he was upon his elephant,

which was of the largest size, his stature and bulk were so

answerable, that he appeared to be proportionably mounted, as a

horseman on his horse.  This elephant, during the whole battle,

gave many singular proofs of sagacity and of particular care of

the king, whom as long as he was strong and in a condition to

fight, he defended with great courage, repelling those who set

upon him; and as soon as he perceived him overpowered with his

numerous wounds and the multitude of darts that were thrown at

him, to prevent his falling off, he softly knelt down and began to

draw out the darts with his proboscis.  When Porus was taken

prisoner; and Alexander asked him how he expected to be used, he

answered, "As a king."  For that expression, he said, when the

same question was put to him a second time, comprehended

everything.  And Alexander, accordingly, not only suffered him to

govern his own kingdom as satrap under himself, but gave him also

the additional territory of various independent tribes whom he

subdued, a district which, it is said, contained fifteen several

nations and five thousand considerable towns, besides abundance of

villages.  To another government, three times as large as this, he

appointed Philip, one of his friends.

Some little time after the battle with Porus, Bucephalas died, as

most of the authorities state, under cure of his wounds, or as

Onesicritus says, of fatigue and age, being thirty years old.

Alexander was no less concerned at his death, than if he had lost

an old companion or an intimate friend, and built a city, which he

named Bucephalia, in memory of him, on the bank of the river

Hydaspes.  He also, we are told, built another city, and called it

after the name of a favorite dog, Peritas, which he had brought up

himself.  So Sotion assures us he was informed by Potamon of

Lesbos.

But this last combat with Porus took off the edge of the

Macedonians' courage, and stayed their further progress into

India.  For having found it hard enough to defeat an enemy who

brought but twenty thousand foot and two thousand horse into the

field, they thought they had reason to oppose Alexander's design

of leading them on to pass the Ganges too, which they were told

was thirty-two furlongs broad and a hundred fathoms deep, and the

banks on the further side covered with multitudes of enemies.  For

they were told that the kings of the Gandaritans and Praesians

expected them there with eighty thousand horse, two hundred

thousand foot, eight thousand armed chariots, and six thousand

fighting elephants.  Nor was this a mere vain report, spread to

discourage them.  For Androcottus, who not long after reigned in

those parts, made a present of five hundred elephants at once to

Seleucus, and with an army of six hundred thousand men subdued all

India.  Alexander at first was so grieved and enraged at his men's

reluctancy, that he shut himself up in his tent, and threw himself

upon the ground, declaring, if they would not pass the Ganges, he

owed them no thanks for anything they had hitherto done, and that

to retreat now, was plainly to confess himself vanquished.  But at

last the reasonable persuasions of his friends and the cries and

lamentations of his soldiers, who in a suppliant manner crowded

about the entrance of his tent, prevailed with him to think of

returning.  Yet he could not refrain from leaving behind him

various deceptive memorials of his expedition, to impose upon

after-times, and to exaggerate his glory with posterity, such as

arms larger than were really worn, and mangers for horses, with

bits of bridles above the usual size, which he set up, and

distributed in several places.  He erected altars, also, to the

gods, which the kings of the Praesians even in our time do honor

to when they pass the river, and offer sacrifice upon them after

the Grecian manner.  Androcottus, then a boy, saw Alexander there,

and is said often afterwards to have been heard to say, that he

missed but little of making himself master of those countries;

their king, who then reigned, was so hated and despised for the

viciousness of his life, and the meanness of his extraction.

Alexander was now eager to see the ocean.  To which purpose he

caused a great many row-boats and rafts to be built, in which he

fell gently down the rivers at his leisure, yet so that his

navigation was neither unprofitable nor inactive.  For by several

descents upon the banks, he made himself master of the fortified

towns, and consequently of the country on both sides.  But at a

siege of a town of the Mallians, who have the repute of being the

bravest people of India, he ran in great danger of his life.  For

having beaten off the defendants with showers of arrows, he was

the first man that mounted the wall by a scaling ladder, which, as

soon as he was up, broke and left him almost alone, exposed to the

darts which the barbarians threw at him in great numbers from

below.  In this distress, turning himself as well as he could, he

leaped down in the midst of his enemies, and had the good fortune

to light upon his feet.  The brightness and clattering of his

armor when he came to the ground, made the barbarians think they

saw rays of light, or some bright phantom playing before his body,

which frightened them so at first, that they ran away and

dispersed.  Till seeing him seconded but by two of his guards,

they fell upon him hand to hand, and some, while he bravely

defended himself, tried to wound him through his armor with their

swords and spears.  And one who stood further off, drew a bow with

such just strength, that the arrow finding its way through his

cuirass, stuck in his ribs under the breast.  This stroke was so

violent, that it made him give back, and set one knee to the

ground, upon which the man ran up with his drawn scimitar,

thinking to dispatch him, and had done it, if Peucestes and

Limnaeus had not interposed, who were both wounded, Limnaeus

mortally, but Peucestes stood his ground, while Alexander killed

the barbarian.  But this did not free him from danger; for besides

many other wounds, at last he received so weighty a stroke of a

club upon his neck, that he was forced to lean his body against

the wall, still, however, facing the enemy.  At this extremity,

the Macedonians made their way in and gathered round him.  They

took him up, just as he was fainting away, having lost all sense

of what was done near him, and conveyed him to his tent, upon

which it was presently reported all over the camp that he was

dead.  But when they had with great difficulty and pains sawed off

the shaft of the arrow, which was of wood, and so with much

trouble got off his cuirass, they came to cut out the head of it,

which was three fingers broad and four long, and stuck fast in the

bone.  During the operation, he was taken with almost mortal

swoonings, but when it was out he came to himself again.  Yet

though all danger was past, he continued very weak, and confined

himself a great while to a regular diet and the method of his

cure, till one day hearing the Macedonians clamoring outside in

their eagerness to see him, he took his cloak and went out.  And

having sacrificed to the gods, without more delay he went on board

again, and as he coasted along, subdued a great deal of the

country on both sides, and several considerable cities.

In this voyage, he took ten of the Indian philosophers prisoners,

who had been most active in persuading Sabbas to revolt, and had

caused the Macedonians a great deal of trouble.  These men, called

Gymnosophists, were reputed to be extremely ready and succinct in

their answers, which he made trial of, by putting difficult

questions to them, letting them know that those whose answers were

not pertinent, should be put to death, of which he made the eldest

of them judge.  The first being asked which he thought most

numerous, the dead or the living, answered, "The living, because

those who are dead are not at all."  Of the second, he desired to

know whether the earth or the sea produced the largest beast; who

told him, "The earth, for the sea is but a part of it."  His

question to the third was, Which is the cunningest of beasts?

"That," said he, "which men have not yet found out."  He bade the

fourth tell him what argument he used to Sabbas to persuade him to

revolt.  "No other," said he, "than that he should either live or

die nobly."  Of the fifth he asked, Which was eldest, night or

day?  The philosopher replied, "Day was eldest, by one day at

least."  But perceiving Alexander not well satisfied with that

account, he added, that he ought not to wonder if strange

questions had as strange answers made to them.  Then he went on and

inquired of the next, what a man should do to be exceedingly

beloved.  "He must be very powerful," said he, "without making

himself too much feared."  The answer of the seventh to his

question, how a man might become a god, was, "By doing that which

was impossible for men to do."  The eighth told him, "Life is

stronger than death, because it supports so many miseries."  And

the last being asked, how long he thought it decent for a man to

live, said, "Till death appeared more desirable than life."  Then

Alexander turned to him whom he had made judge, and commanded him

to give sentence.  "All that I can determine," said he, "is, that

they have every one answered worse than another."  "Nay," said the

king, "then you shall die first, for giving such a sentence."

"Not so, O king," replied the gymnosophist, "unless you said

falsely that he should die first who made the worst answer."  In

conclusion he gave them presents and dismissed them.

But to those who were in greatest reputation among them, and lived

a private quiet life, he sent Onesicritus, one of Diogenes the

Cynic's disciples, desiring them to come to him.  Calanus, it is

said, very arrogantly and roughly commanded him to strip himself,

and hear what he said, naked, otherwise he would not speak a word

to him, though he came from Jupiter himself.  But Dandamis

received him with more civility, and hearing him discourse of

Socrates, Pythagoras, and Diogenes, told him he thought them men

of great parts, and to have erred in nothing so much as in

having too great respect for the laws and customs of their

country.  Others say, Dandamis only asked him the reason why

Alexander undertook so long a journey to come into those parts.

Taxiles, however, persuaded Calanus to wait upon Alexander.  His

proper name was Sphines, but because he was wont to say Cale,

which in the Indian tongue is a form of salutation, to those he

met with anywhere, the Greeks called him Calanus.  He is said to

have shown Alexander an instructive emblem of government, which

was this.  He threw a dry shriveled hide upon the ground, and trod

upon the edges of it.  The skin when it was pressed in one place,

still rose up in another, wheresoever he trod round about it, till

he set his foot in the middle, which made all the parts lie even

and quiet.  The meaning of this similitude being that he ought to

reside most in the middle of his empire, and not spend too much

time on the borders of it.

His voyage down the rivers took up seven months' time, and when he

came to the sea, he sailed to an island which he himself called

Scillustis, others Psiltucis, where going ashore, he sacrificed,

and made what observations he could as to the nature of the sea

and the sea-coast.  Then having besought the gods that no other

man might ever go beyond the bounds of this expedition, he ordered

his fleet of which he made Nearchus admiral, and Onesicritus

pilot, to sail round about, keeping the Indian shore on the right

hand, and returned himself by land through the country of the

Orites, where he was reduced to great straits for want of

provisions, and lost a vast number of men, so that of an army of

one hundred and twenty thousand foot and fifteen thousand horse,

he scarcely brought back above a fourth part out of India, they

were so diminished by diseases, ill diet, and the scorching heats,

but most by famine.  For their march was through an uncultivated

country whose inhabitants fared hardly, possessing only a few

sheep, and those of a wretched kind, whose flesh was rank and

unsavory, by their continual feeding upon sea-fish.

After sixty days march he came into Gedrosia, where he found great

plenty of all things, which the neighboring kings and governors of

provinces, hearing of his approach, had taken care to provide.

When he had here refreshed his army, he continued his march

through Carmania, feasting all the way for seven days together.

He with his most intimate friends banqueted and reveled night and

day upon a platform erected on a lofty, conspicuous scaffold,

which was slowly drawn by eight horses.  This was followed by a

great many chariots, some covered with purple and embroidered

canopies, and some with green boughs, which were continually

supplied afresh, and in them the rest of his friends and

commanders drinking, and crowned with garlands of flowers.  Here

was now no target or helmet or spear to be seen; instead of armor,

the soldiers handled nothing but cups and goblets and Thericlean

drinking vessels, which, along the whole way, they dipped into

large bowls and jars, and drank healths to one another, some

seating themselves to it, others as they went along.  All places

resounded with music of pipes and flutes, with harping and

singing, and women dancing as in the rites of Bacchus.  For this

disorderly, wandering march, besides the drinking part of it, was

accompanied with all the sportiveness and insolence of bacchanals,

as much as if the god himself had been there to countenance and

lead the procession.  As soon as he came to the royal palace of

Gedrosia, he again refreshed and feasted his army; and one day

after he had drunk pretty hard, it is said, he went to see a prize

of dancing contended for, in which his favorite Bagoas, having

gained the victory, crossed the theater in his dancing habit, and

sat down close by him, which so pleased the Macedonians, that they

made loud acclamations for him to kiss Bagoas, and never stopped

clapping their hands and shouting till Alexander put his arms

round him and kissed him.

Here his admiral, Nearchus, came to him and delighted him so with

the narrative of his voyage, that he resolved himself to sail out

of the mouth of Euphrates with a great fleet, with which he

designed to go round by Arabia and Africa, and so by Hercules's

Pillars into the Mediterranean; in order for which, he directed

all sorts of vessels to be built at Thapsacus, and made great

provision everywhere of seamen and pilots.  But the tidings of the

difficulties he had gone through in his Indian expedition, the

danger of his person among the Mallians, the reported loss of a

considerable part of his forces, and a general doubt as to his own

safety, had begun to give occasion for revolt among many of the

conquered nations, and for acts of great injustice, avarice, and

insolence on the part of the satraps and commanders in the

provinces, so that there seemed to be an universal fluctuation and

disposition to change.  Even at home, Olympias and Cleopatra had

raised a faction against Antipater, and divided his government

between them, Olympias seizing upon Epirus, and Cleopatra upon

Macedonia.  When Alexander was told of it, he said his mother had

made the best choice, for the Macedonians would never endure to be

ruled by a woman.  Upon this he dispatched Nearchus again to his

fleet, to carry the war into the maritime provinces, and as he

marched that way himself, he punished those commanders who had

behaved ill, particularly Oxyartes, one of the sons of Abuletes,

whom he killed with his own hand, thrusting him through the body

with his spear.  And when Abuletes, instead of the necessary

provisions which he ought to have furnished, brought him three

thousand talents in coined money, he ordered it to be thrown to

his horses, and when they would not touch it, "What good," he

said, "will this provision do us?" and sent him away to prison.

When he came into Persia, he distributed money among the women, as

their own kings had been wont to do, who as often as they came

thither, gave every one of them a piece of gold; on account of

which custom, some of them, it is said, had come but seldom, and

Ochus was so sordidly covetous, that to avoid this expense, he

never visited his native country once in all his reign.  Then

finding Cyrus's sepulchre opened and rifled, he put Polymachus,

who did it, to death, though he was a man of some distinction, a

born Macedonian of Pella.  And after he had read the inscription,

he caused it to be cut again below the old one in Greek

characters; the words being these:  "O man, whosoever thou art,

and from whencesoever thou comest (for I know thou wilt come), I

am Cyrus, the founder of the Persian empire; do not grudge me this

little earth which covers my body."  The reading of this sensibly

touched Alexander, filling him with the thought of the uncertainty

and mutability of human affairs.  At the same time, Calanus having

been a little while troubled with a disease in the bowels,

requested that he might have a funeral pile erected, to which he

came on horseback, and after he had said some prayers and

sprinkled himself and cut off some of his hair to throw into the

fire, before he ascended it, he embraced and took leave of the

Macedonians who stood by, desiring them to pass that day in mirth

and good-fellowship with their king, whom in a little time, he

said, he doubted not but to see again at Babylon.  Having thus

said, he lay down, and covering up his face, he stirred not when

the fire came near him, but continued still in the same posture

as at first, and so sacrificed himself, as it was the ancient

custom of the philosophers in those countries to do.  The same

thing was done long after by another Indian, who came with Caesar

to Athens, where they still show you "the Indian's monument."  At

his return from the funeral pile, Alexander invited a great many

of his friends and principal officers to supper, and proposed a

drinking match, in which the victor should receive a crown.

Promachus drank twelve quarts of wine, and won the prize, which

was a talent, from them all; but he survived his victory but three

days, and was followed, as Chares says, by forty-one more, who

died of the same debauch, some extremely cold weather having set

in shortly after.

At Susa, he married Darius's daughter Statira, and celebrated also

the nuptials of his friends, bestowing the noblest of the Persian

ladies upon the worthiest of them, at the same time making in an

entertainment in honor of the other Macedonians whose marriages

had already taken place.  At this magnificent festival, it is

reported, there were no less than nine thousand guests, to each of

whom he gave a golden cup for the libations.  Not to mention other

instances of his wonderful magnificence, he paid the debts of his

army, which amounted to nine thousand eight hundred and seventy

talents.  But Antigenes, who had lost one of his eyes, though he

owed nothing, got his name set down in the list of those who were

in debt, and bringing one who pretended to be his creditor, and to

have supplied him from the bank, received the money.  But when the

cheat was found out, the king was so incensed at it, that he

banished him from court, and took away his command, though he was

an excellent soldier, and a man of great courage.  For when he was

but a youth, and served under Philip at the siege of Perinthus,

where he was wounded in the eye by an arrow shot out of an engine,

he would neither let the arrow be taken out, nor be persuaded to

quit the field, till he had bravely repulsed the enemy and forced

them to retire into the town.  Accordingly he was not able to

support such a disgrace with any patience, and it was plain that

grief and despair would have made him kill himself, but that the

king fearing it, not only pardoned him, but let him also enjoy the

benefit of his deceit.

The thirty thousand boys whom he left behind him to be taught and

disciplined, were so improved at his return, both in strength and

beauty, and performed their exercises with such dexterity and

wonderful agility, that he was extremely pleased with them, which

grieved the Macedonians, and made them fear he would have the less

value for them.  And when he proceeded to send down the infirm and

maimed soldiers to the sea, they said they were unjustly and

infamously dealt with, after they were worn out in his service

upon all occasions, now to be turned away with disgrace and sent

home into their country among their friends and relations, in a

worse condition than when they came out; therefore they desired

him to dismiss them one and all, and to account his Macedonians

useless, now he was so well furnished with a set of dancing boys,

with whom, if he pleased, he might go on and conquer the world.

These speeches so incensed Alexander, that after he had given them

a great deal of reproachful language in his passion, he drove them

away, and committed the watch to Persians, out of whom he chose

his guards and attendants.  When the Macedonians saw him escorted

by these men, and themselves excluded and shamefully disgraced,

their high spirits fell, and conferring with one another, they

found that jealousy and rage had almost distracted them.  But at

last coming to themselves again, they went without their arms,

with on]y their under garments on, crying and weeping, to offer

themselves at his tent, and desired him to deal with them as their

baseness and ingratitude deserved.  However, this would not

prevail; for though his anger was already something mollified, yet

he would not admit them into his presence, nor would they stir

from thence, but continued two days and nights before his tent,

bewailing themselves, and imploring him as their lord to have

compassion on them.  But the third day he came out to them, and

seeing them very humble and penitent, he wept himself a great

while, and after a gentle reproof spoke kindly to them, and

dismissed those who were unserviceable with magnificent rewards,

and with this recommendation to Antipater, that when they came

home, at all public shows and in the theaters, they should sit on

the best and foremost seats, crowned with chaplets of flowers.  He

ordered, also, that the children of those who had lost their lives

in his service, should have their fathers' pay continued to them.

When he came to Ecbatana in Media, and had dispatched his most

urgent affairs, he began to divert himself again with spectacles

and public entertainments, to carry on which he had a supply of

three thousand actors and artists, newly arrived out of Greece.

But they were soon interrupted by Hephaestion's falling sick of a

fever, in which, being a young man and a soldier too, he could not

confine himself to so exact a diet as was necessary; for whilst

his physician Glaucus was gone to the theater, he ate a fowl for

his dinner, and drank a large draught of wine, upon which he

became very ill, and shortly after died.  At this misfortune,

Alexander was so beyond all reason transported, that to express

his sorrow, he immediately ordered the manes and tails of all his

horses and mules to be cut, and threw down the battlements of the

neighboring cities.  The poor physician he crucified, and forbade

playing on the flute, or any other musical instrument in the camp

a great while, till directions came from the oracle of Ammon, and

enjoined him to honor Hephaestion, and sacrifice to him as to a

hero.  Then seeking to alleviate his grief in war, he set out, as

it were, to a hunt and chase of men, for he fell upon the

Cossaeans, and put the whole nation to the sword.  This was called

a sacrifice to Hephaestion's ghost.  In his sepulchre and monument

and the adorning of them, he intended to bestow ten thousand

talents; and designing that the excellence of the workmanship and

the singularity of the design might outdo the expense, his wishes

turned, above all other artists, to Stasicrates, because he always

promised something very bold, unusual, and magnificent in his

projects.  Once when they had met before, he had told him, that of

all the mountains he knew, that of Athos in Thrace was the most

capable of being adapted to represent the shape and lineaments of

a man; that if he pleased to command him, he would make it the

noblest and most durable statue in the world, which in its left

hand should hold a city of ten thousand inhabitants, and out of

its right should pour a copious river into the sea.  Though

Alexander declined this proposal, yet now he spent a great deal of

time with workmen to invent and contrive others even more

extravagant and sumptuous.

As he was upon his way to Babylon, Nearchus, who had sailed back

out of the ocean up the mouth of the river Euphrates, came to tell

him he had met with some Chaldaean diviners, who had warned him

against Alexander's going thither.  Alexander, however, took no

thought of it, and went on, and when he came near the walls of the

place, he saw a great many crows fighting with one another, some

of whom fell down just by him.  After this, being privately

informed that Apollodorus, the governor of Babylon, had

sacrificed, to know what would become of him, he sent for

Pythagoras, the soothsayer, and on his admitting the thing, asked

him, in what condition he found the victim; and when he told him

the liver was defective in its lobe, "A great presage indeed!"

said Alexander.  However, he offered Pythagoras no injury, but was

sorry that he had neglected Nearchus's advice, and stayed for the

most part outside the town, removing his tent from place to place,

and sailing up and down the Euphrates.  Besides this, he was

disturbed by many other prodigies.  A tame ass fell upon the

biggest and handsomest lion that he kept, and killed him by a

kick.  And one day after he had undressed himself to be anointed,

and was playing at ball, just as they were going to bring his

clothes again, the young men who played with him perceived a man

clad in the king's robes, with a diadem upon his head, sitting

silently upon his throne.  They asked him who he was, to which he

gave no answer a good while, till at last coming to himself, he

told them his name was Dionysius, that he was of Messenia, that

for some crime of which he was accused, he was brought thither

from the sea-side, and had been kept long in prison, that Serapis

appeared to him, had freed him from his chains, conducted him to

that place, and commanded him to put on the king's robe and

diadem, and to sit where they found him, and to say nothing.

Alexander, when he heard this, by the direction of his

soothsayers, put the fellow to death, but he lost his spirits, and

grew diffident of the protection and assistance of the gods, and

suspicious of his friends.  His greatest apprehension was of

Antipater and his sons, one of whom, Iolaus, was his chief

cupbearer; and Cassander, who had lately arrived, and had been

bred up in Greek manners, the first time he saw some of the

barbarians adore the king, could not forbear laughing at it aloud,

which so incensed Alexander, that he took him by the hair with

both hands, and dashed his head against the wall.  Another time,

Cassander would have said something in defense of Antipater to

those who accused him, but Alexander interrupting him said, "What

is it you say?  Do you think people, if they had received no

injury, would come such a journey only to calumniate your father?"

To which when Cassander replied, that their coming so far from the

evidence was a great proof of the falseness of their charges,

Alexander smiled, and said those were some of Aristotle's

sophisms, which would serve equally on both sides; and added, that

both he and his father should be severely punished, if they were

found guilty of the least injustice towards those who complained.

All which made such a deep impression of terror in Cassander's

mind, that long after when he was king of Macedonia, and master of

Greece, as he was walking up and down at Delphi, and looking at

the statues, at the sight of that of Alexander he was suddenly

struck with alarm, and shook all over, his eyes rolled, his head

grew dizzy, and it was long before he recovered himself.

When once Alexander had given way to fears of supernatural

influence, his mind grew so disturbed and so easily alarmed, that

if the least unusual or extraordinary thing happened, he thought

it a prodigy or a presage, and his court was thronged with

diviners and priests whose business was to sacrifice and purify

and foretell the future.  So miserable a thing is incredulity and

contempt of divine power on the one hand, and so miserable, also,

superstition on the other, which like water, where the level has

been lowered, flowing in and never stopping, fills the mind with

slavish fears and follies, as now in Alexander's case.  But upon

some answers which were brought him from the oracle concerning

Hephaestion, he laid aside his sorrow, and fell again to

sacrificing and drinking; and having given Nearchus a splendid

entertainment, after he had bathed, as was his custom, just as he

was going to bed, at Medius's request he went to supper with him.

Here he drank all the next day, and was attacked with a fever,

which seized him, not as some write, after he had drunk of the

bowl of Hercules; nor was he taken with any sudden pain in his

back, as if he had been struck with lance, for these are the

inventions of some authors who thought it their duty to make the

last scene of so great an action as tragical and moving as they

could.  Aristobulus tells us, that in the rage of his fever and a

violent thirst, he took a draught of wine, upon which he fell into

delirium, and died on the thirtieth day of the month Daesius.

But the journals give the following record.  On the eighteenth of

the month, he slept in the bathing-room on account of his fever.

The next day he bathed and removed into his chamber, and spent

his time in playing dice with Medius.  In the evening he bathed

and sacrificed, and ate freely, and had the fever on him through

the night.  On the twentieth, after the usual sacrifices and

bathing, he lay in the bathing-room and heard Nearchus's narrative

of his voyage, and the observations he had made in the great sea.

The twenty-first he passed in the same manner, his fever still

increasing, and suffered much during the night.  The next day the

fever was very violent, and he had himself removed and his bed set

by the great bath, and discoursed with his principal officers

about finding fit men to fill up the vacant places in the army.

On the twenty-fourth he was much worse, and was carried out of his

bed to assist at the sacrifices, and gave order that the general

officers should wait within the court, whilst the inferior

officers kept watch without doors.  On the twenty-fifth he was

removed to his palace on the other side the river, where he slept

a little, but his fever did not abate, and when the generals came

into his chamber, he was speechless, and continued so the

following day.  The Macedonians, therefore, supposing he was dead,

came with great clamors to the gates, and menaced his friends so

that they were forced to admit them, and let them all pass through

unarmed along by his bedside.  The same day Python and Seleucus

were dispatched to the temple of Serapis to inquire if they should

bring Alexander thither, and were answered by the god, that they

should not remove him.  On the twenty-eighth, in the evening, he

died.  This account is most of it word for word as it is written

in the diary.

At the time, nobody had any suspicion of his being poisoned, but

upon some information given six years after, they say Olympias put

many to death, and scattered the ashes of Iolaus, then dead, as if

he had given it him.  But those who affirm that Aristotle

counseled Antipater to do it, and that by his means the poison was

brought, adduce one Hagnothemis as their authority, who, they say,

heard king Antigonus speak of it, and tell us that the poison was

water, deadly cold as ice, distilling from a rock in the district

of Nonacris, which they gathered like a thin dew, and kept in an

ass's hoof; for it was so very cold and penetrating that no other

vessel would hold it.  However, most are of opinion that all this

is a mere made-up story, no slight evidence of which is, that

during the dissensions among the commanders, which lasted several

days, the body continued clear and fresh, without any sign of such

taint or corruption, though it lay neglected in a close, sultry

place.

Roxana, who was now with child, and upon that account much honored

by the Macedonians, being jealous of Statira, sent for her by a

counterfeit letter, as if Alexander had been still alive; and when

she had her in her power, killed her and her sister, and threw

their bodies into a well, which they filled up with earth, not

without the privity and assistance of Perdiccas, who in the time

immediately following the king's death, under cover of the name of

Arrhidaeus, whom he carried about him as a sort of guard to his

person, exercised the chief authority Arrhidaeus, who was Philip's

son by an obscure woman of the name of Philinna, was himself of

weak intellect, not that he had been originally deficient either

in body or mind; on the contrary, in his childhood, he had showed

a happy and promising character enough.  But a diseased habit of

body, caused by drugs which Olympias gave him, had ruined not only

his health, but his understanding.

CAESAR

After Sylla became master of Rome, he wished to make Caesar put

away his wife Cornelia, daughter of Cinna, the late sole ruler

of the commonwealth, but was unable to effect it either by

promises or intimidation, and so contented himself with

confiscating her dowry.  The ground of Sylla's hostility to

Caesar, was the relationship between him and Marius; for Marius,

the elder, married Julia, the sister of Caesar's father, and had

by her the younger Marius, who consequently was Caesar's first

cousin.  And though at the beginning, while so many were to be

put to death and there was so much to do, Caesar was overlooked

by Sylla, yet he would not keep quiet, but presented himself to

the people as a candidate for the priesthood, though he was yet

a mere boy.  Sylla, without any open opposition, took measures

to have him rejected, and in consultation whether he should be

put to death, when it was urged by some that it was not worth

his while to contrive the death of a boy, he answered, that they

knew little who did not see more than one Marius in that boy.

Caesar, on being informed of this saying, concealed himself, and

for a considerable time kept out of the way in the country of

the Sabines, often changing his quarters, till one night, as he

was removing from one house to another on account of his health,

he fell into the hands of Sylla's soldiers, who were searching

those parts in order to apprehend any who had absconded.

Caesar, by a bribe of two talents, prevailed with Cornelius,

their captain, to let him go, and was no sooner dismissed but he

put to sea, and made for Bithynia.  After a short stay there

with Nicomedes, the king, in his passage back he was taken near

the island Pharmacusa by some of the pirates, who, at that time,

with large fleets of ships and innumerable smaller vessels

infested the seas everywhere.

When these men at first demanded of him twenty talents for his

ransom, he laughed at them for not understanding the value of

their prisoner, and voluntarily engaged to give them fifty.  He

presently dispatched those about him to several places to raise

the money, till at last he was left among a set of the most

bloodthirsty people in the world, the Cilicians, only with one

friend and two attendants.  Yet he made so little of them, that

when he had a mind to sleep, he would send to them, and order

them to make no noise.  For thirty-eight days, with all the

freedom in the world, he amused himself with joining in their

exercises and games, as if they had not been his keepers, but

his guards.  He wrote verses and speeches, and made them his

auditors, and those who did not admire them, he called to their

faces illiterate and barbarous, and would often, in raillery,

threaten to hang them.  They were greatly taken with this, and

attributed his free talking to a kind of simplicity and boyish

playfulness.  As soon as his ransom was come from Miletus, he

paid it, and was discharged, and proceeded at once to man some

ships at the port of Miletus, and went in pursuit of the

pirates, whom he surprised with their ships still stationed at

the island, and took most of them.  Their money he made his

prize, and the men he secured in prison at Pergamus, and made

application to Junius, who was then governor of Asia, to whose

office it belonged, as praetor, to determine their punishment.

Junius, having his eye upon the money, for the sum was

considerable, said he would think at his leisure what to do with

the prisoners, upon which Caesar took his leave of him, and went

off to Pergamus, where he ordered the pirates to be brought

forth and crucified; the punishment he had often threatened them

with whilst he was in their hands, and they little dreamed he

was in earnest.

In the meantime Sylla's power being now on the decline, Caesar's

friends advised him to return to Rome, but he went to Rhodes,

and entered himself in the school of Apollonius, Molon's son, a

famous rhetorician, one who had the reputation of a worthy man,

and had Cicero for one of his scholars.  Caesar is said to have

been admirably fitted by nature to make a great statesman and

orator, and to have taken such pains to improve his genius this

way, that without dispute he might challenge the second place.

More he did not aim at, as choosing to be first rather amongst

men of arms and power, and, therefore, never rose to that height

of eloquence to which nature would have carried him, his

attention being diverted to those expeditions and designs, which

at length gained him the empire.  And he himself, in his answer

to Cicero's panegyric on Cato, desires his reader not to compare

the plain discourse of a soldier with the harangues of an orator

who had not only fine parts, but had employed his life in this

study.

When he was returned to Rome, he accused Dolabella of

maladministration, and many cities of Greece came in to attest

it.  Dolabella was acquitted, and Caesar, in return for the

support he had received from the Greeks, assisted them in their

prosecution of Publius Antonius for corrupt practices, before

Marcus Lucullus, praetor of Macedonia.  In this cause he so far

succeeded, that Antonius was forced to appeal to the tribunes

at Rome, alleging that in Greece he could not have fair play

against Grecians.  In his pleadings at Rome, his eloquence soon

obtained him great credit and favor, and he won no less upon the

affections of the people by the affability of his manners and

address, in which he slowed a tact and consideration beyond what

could have been expected at his age; and the open house he kept,

the entertainments he gave, and the general splendor of his

manner of life contributed little by little to create and

increase his political influence.  His enemies slighted the

growth of it at first, presuming it would soon fail when his

money was gone; whilst in the meantime it was growing up and

flourishing among the common people.  When his power at last was

established and not to be overthrown, and now openly tended to

the altering of the whole constitution, they were aware too

late, that there is no beginning so mean, which continued

application will not make considerable, and that despising a

danger at first, will make it at last irresistible.  Cicero was

the first who had any suspicions of his designs upon the

government, and, as a good pilot is apprehensive of a storm when

the sea is most smiling, saw the designing temper of the man

through this disguise of good-humor and affability, and said,

that in general, in all he did and undertook, he detected the

ambition for absolute power, "but when I see his hair so

carefully arranged, and observe him adjusting it with one

finger, I cannot imagine it should enter into such a man's

thoughts to subvert the Roman state."  But of this more

hereafter.

The first proof he had of the people's good-will to him, was

when he received by their suffrages a tribuneship in the army,

and came out on the list with a higher place than Caius

Popilius.  A second and clearer instance of their favor appeared

upon his making a magnificent oration in praise of his aunt

Julia, wife to Marius, publicly in the forum, at whose funeral

he was so bold as to bring forth the images of Marius, which

nobody had dared to produce since the government came into

Sylla's hands, Marius's party having from that time been

declared enemies of the State.  When some who were present had

begun to raise a cry against Caesar, the people answered with

loud shouts and clapping in his favor, expressing their joyful

surprise and satisfaction at his having, as it were, brought up

again from the grave those honors of Marius, which for so long a

time had been lost to the city.  It had always been the custom

at Rome to make funeral orations in praise of elderly matrons,

but there was no precedent of any upon young women till Caesar

first made one upon the death of his own wife.  This also

procured him favor, and by this show of affection he won upon

the feelings of the people, who looked upon him as a man of

great tenderness and kindness of heart.  After he had buried his

wife, he went as quaestor into Spain under one of the praetors,

named Vetus, whom he honored ever after, and made his son his

own quaestor, when he himself came to be praetor.  After this

employment was ended, he married Pompeia, his third wife, having

then a daughter by Cornelia, his first wife, whom he afterwards

married to Pompey the Great.  He was so profuse in his expenses,

that before he had any public employment, he was in debt

thirteen hundred talents, and many thought that by incurring

such expense to be popular, he changed a solid good for what

would prove but short and uncertain return; but in truth he was

purchasing what was of the greatest value at an inconsiderable

rate.  When he was made surveyor of the Appian Way, he

disbursed, besides the public money, a great sum out of his

private purse; and when he was aedile, be provided such a number

of gladiators, that he entertained the people with three hundred

and twenty single combats, and by his great liberality and

magnificence in theatrical shows, in processions, and public

feastings, he threw into the shade all the attempts that had

been made before him, and gained so much upon the people, that

everyone was eager to find out new offices and new honors for

him in return for his munificence.

There being two factions in the city, one that of Sylla, which

was very powerful, the other that of Marius, which was then

broken and in a very low condition, he undertook to revive this

and to make it his own.  And to this end, whilst he was in the

height of his repute with the people for the magnificent shows

he gave as aedile, he ordered images of Marius, and figures of

Victory, with trophies in their hands, to be carried privately

in the night and placed in the capitol.  Next morning, when some

saw them bright with gold and beautifully made, with

inscriptions upon them, referring them to Marius's exploits over

the Cimbrians, they were surprised at the boldness of him who

had set them up, nor was it difficult to guess who it was.  The

fame of this soon spread and brought together a great concourse

of people.  Some cried out that it was an open attempt against

the established government thus to revive those honors which had

been buried by the laws and decrees of the senate; that Caesar

had done it to sound the temper of the people whom he had

prepared before, and to try whether they were tame enough to

bear his humor, and would quietly give way to his innovations.

On the other hand, Marius's party took courage, and it was

incredible how numerous they were suddenly seen to be, and what

a multitude of them appeared and came shouting into the capitol.

Many, when they saw Marius's likeness, cried for joy, and Caesar

was highly extolled as the one man, in the place of all others,

who was a relation worthy of Marius.  Upon this the senate met,

and Catulus Lutatius, one of the most eminent Romans of that

time, stood up and inveighed against Caesar, closing his speech

with the remarkable saying, that Caesar was now not working

mines, but planting batteries to overthrow the state.  But when

Caesar had made an apology for himself, and satisfied the

senate, his admirers were very much animated, and advised him

not to depart from his own thoughts for anyone, since with the

people's good favor he would erelong get the better of them all,

and be the first man in the commonwealth.

At this time, Metellus, the High-Priest, died, and Catulus and

Isauricus, persons of the highest reputation, and who had great

influence in the senate, were competitors for the office; yet

Caesar would not give way to them, but presented himself to the

people as a candidate against them.  The several parties seeming

very equal, Catulus, who, because he had the most honor to lose,

was the most apprehensive of the event, sent to Caesar to buy

him off, with offers of a great sum of money.  But his answer

was, that he was ready to borrow a larger sum than that, to

carry on the contest.  Upon the day of election, as his mother

conducted him out of doors with tears, after embracing her, "My

mother," he said, "today you will see me either High-Priest, or

an exile."  When the votes were taken, after a great struggle,

he carried it, and excited among the senate and nobility great

alarm lest he might now urge on the people to every kind of

insolence.  And Piso and Catulus found fault with Cicero for

having let Caesar escape, when in the conspiracy of Catiline he

had given the government such advantage against him.  For

Catiline, who had designed not only to change the present state

of affairs, but to subvert the whole empire and confound all,

had himself taken to flight, while the evidence was yet

incomplete against him, before his ultimate purposes had been

properly discovered.  But he had left Lentulus and Cethegus in

the city to supply his place in the conspiracy, and whether they

received any secret encouragement and assistance from Caesar is

uncertain; all that is certain, is, that they were fully

convicted in the senate, and when Cicero, the consul, asked the

several opinions of the senators, how they would have them

punished, all who spoke before Caesar sentenced them to death;

but Caesar stood up and made a set speech, in which he told

them, that he thought it without precedent and not just to take

away the lives of persons of their birth and distinction before

they were fairly tried, unless there was an absolute necessity

for it; but that if they were kept confined in any towns of

Italy Cicero himself should choose, till Catiline was defeated,

then the senate might in peace and at their leisure determine

what was best to be done.

This sentence of his carried so much appearance of humanity, and

he gave it such advantage by the eloquence with which he urged

it, that not only those who spoke after him closed with it, but

even they who had before given a contrary opinion, now came over

to his, till it came about to Catulus's and Cato's turn to

speak.  They warmly opposed it, and Cato intimated in his speech

the suspicion of Caesar himself, and pressed the matter so

strongly, that the criminals were given up to suffer execution.

As Caesar was going out of the senate, many of the young men who

at that time acted as guards to Cicero, ran in with their naked

swords to assault him.  But Curio, it is said, threw his gown

over him, and conveyed him away, and Cicero himself, when the

young men looked up to see his wishes, gave a sign not to kill

him, either for fear of the people, or because he thought the

murder unjust and illegal.  If this be true, I wonder how Cicero

came to omit all mention of it in his book about his consulship.

He was blamed, however, afterwards, for not having made use of

so fortunate an opportunity against Caesar, as if he had let it

escape him out of fear of the populace, who, indeed, showed

remarkable solicitude about Caesar, and some time after, when he

went into the senate to clear himself of the suspicions he lay

under, and found great clamors raised against him, upon the

senate in consequence sitting longer than ordinary, they went up

to the house in a tumult, and beset it, demanding Caesar, and

requiring them to dismiss him.  Upon this, Cato, much fearing

some movement among the poor citizens, who were always the first

to kindle the flame among the people, and placed all their hopes

in Caesar, persuaded the senate to give them a monthly allowance

of corn, an expedient which put the commonwealth to the

extraordinary charge of seven million five hundred thousand

drachmas in the year, but quite succeeded in removing the great

cause of terror for the present, and very much weakened Caesar's

power, who at that time was just going to be made praetor, and

consequently would have been more formidable by his office.

But there was no disturbance during his praetorship, only what

misfortune he met with in his own domestic affairs.  Publius

Clodius was a patrician by descent, eminent both for his riches

and eloquence, but in licentiousness of life and audacity

exceeded the most noted profligates of the day.  He was in love

with Pompeia, Caesar's wife, and she had no aversion to him.

But there was strict watch kept on her apartment, and Caesar's

mother, Aurelia, who was a discreet woman, being continually

about her, made any interview very dangerous and difficult.  The

Romans have a goddess whom they call Bona, the same whom the

Greeks call Gynaecea.  The Phrygians, who claim a peculiar title

to her, say she was mother to Midas.  The Romans profess she was

one of the Dryads, and married to Faunus.  The Grecians affirm

that she is that mother of Bacchus whose name is not to be

uttered, and, for this reason, the women who celebrate her

festival, cover the tents with vine-branches, and, in accordance

with the fable, a consecrated serpent is placed by the goddess.

It is not lawful for a man to be by, nor so much as in the

house, whilst the rites are celebrated, but the women by

themselves perform the sacred offices, which are said to be

much the same with those used in the solemnities of Orpheus.

When the festival comes, the husband, who is either consul or

praetor; and with him every male creature, quits the house.  The

wife then taking it under her care, sets it in order, and the

principal ceremonies are performed during the night, the women

playing together amongst themselves as they keep watch, and

music of various kinds going on.

As Pompeia was at that time celebrating this feast, Clodius, who

as yet had no beard, and so thought to pass undiscovered, took

upon him the dress and ornaments of a singing woman, and so came

thither, having the air of a young girl.  Finding the doors

open, he was without any stop introduced by the maid, who was in

the intrigue.  She presently ran to tell Pompeia, but as she was

away a long time, he grew uneasy in waiting for her, and left

his post and traversed the house from one room to another, still

taking care to avoid the lights, till at last Aurelia's woman

met him, and invited him to play with her, as the women did

among themselves.  He refused to comply, and she presently

pulled him forward, and asked him who he was, and whence he

came.  Clodius told her he was waiting for Pompeia's own maid,

Abra, being in fact her own name also, and as he said so,

betrayed himself by his voice.  Upon which the woman shrieking,

ran into the company where there were lights, and cried out, she

had discovered a man.  The women were all in a fright.  Aurelia

covered up the sacred things and stopped the proceedings, and

having ordered the doors to be shut, went about with lights to

find Clodius, who was got into the maid's room that he had come

in with, and was seized there.  The women knew him, and drove

him out of doors, and at once, that same night, went home and

told their husbands the story.  In the morning, it was all about

the town, what an impious attempt Clodius had made, and how he

ought to be punished as an offender, not only against those whom

he had affronted, but also against the public and the gods.

Upon which one of the tribunes impeached him for profaning the

holy rites, and some of the principal senators combined together

and gave evidence against him, that besides many other horrible

crimes, he had been guilty of incest with his own sister, who

was married to Lucullus.  But the people set themselves against

this combination of the nobility, and defended Clodius, which

was of great service to him with the judges, who took alarm and

were afraid to provoke the multitude.  Caesar at once dismissed

Pompeia, but being summoned as a witness against Clodius, said

he had nothing to charge him with.  This looking like a paradox,

the accuser asked him why he parted with his wife.  Caesar

replied, "I wished my wife to be not so much as suspected."

Some say that Caesar spoke this as his real thought; others,

that he did it to gratify the people, who were very earnest to

save Clodius.  Clodius, at any rate, escaped; most of the judges

giving their opinions so written as to be illegible, that they

might not be in danger from the people by condemning him, nor in

disgrace with the nobility by acquitting him.

Caesar, in the meantime, being out of his praetorship, had got

the province of Spain, but was in great embarrassment with his

creditors, who, as he was going off, came upon him, and were

very pressing and importunate.  This led him to apply himself to

Crassus, who was the richest man in Rome, but wanted Caesar's

youthful vigor and heat to sustain the opposition against

Pompey.  Crassus took upon him to satisfy those creditors who

were most uneasy to him, and would not be put off any longer,

and engaged himself to the amount of eight hundred and thirty

talents, upon which Caesar was now at liberty to go to his

province.  In his journey, as he was crossing the Alps, and

passing by a small village of the barbarians with but few

inhabitants and those wretchedly poor, his companions asked the

question among themselves by way of mockery, if there were any

canvassing for offices there; any contention which should be

uppermost, or feuds of great men one against another.  To which

Caesar made answer seriously, "For my part, I had rather be the

first man among these fellows, than the second man in Rome."  It

is said that another time, when free from business in Spain,

after reading some part of the history of Alexander, he sat a

great while very thoughtful, and at last burst out into tears.

His friends were surprised, and asked him the reason of it.  "Do

you think," said he, "I have not just cause to weep, when I

consider that Alexander at my age had conquered so many nations,

and I have all this time done nothing that is memorable?"  As

soon as he came into Spain he was very active, and in a few

days had got together ten new cohorts of foot in addition to the

twenty which were there before.  With these he marched against

the Calaici and Lusitani and conquered them, and advancing as

far as the ocean, subdued the tribes which never before had been

subject to the Romans.  Having managed his military affairs with

good success, he was equally happy in the course of his civil

government.  He took pains to establish a good understanding

amongst the several states, and no less care to heal the

differences between debtors and creditors.  He ordered that the

creditor should receive two parts of the debtor's yearly

income, and that the other part should be managed by the debtor

himself, till by this method the whole debt was at last

discharged.  This conduct made him leave his province with a

fair reputation; being rich himself, and having enriched his

soldiers, and having received from them the honorable name of

Imperator.

There is a law among the Romans, that whoever desires the honor

of a triumph must stay without the city and expect his answer.

And another, that those who stand for the consulship shall

appear personally upon the place.  Caesar was come home at the

very time of choosing consuls, and being in a difficulty between

these two opposite laws, sent to the senate to desire that since

he was obliged to be absent, he might sue for the consulship by

his friends.  Cato, being backed by the law, at first opposed

his request; afterwards perceiving that Caesar had prevailed

with a great part of the senate to comply with it, he made it

his business to gain time, and went on wasting the whole day in

speaking.  Upon which Caesar thought fit to let the triumph

fall, and pursued the consulship.  Entering the town and coming

forward immediately, he had recourse to a piece of state-policy

by which everybody was deceived but Cato.  This was the

reconciling of Crassus and Pompey, the two men who then were

most powerful in Rome.  There had been a quarrel between them,

which he now succeeded in making up, and by this means

strengthened himself by the united power of both, and so under

the cover of an action which carried all the appearance of a

piece of kindness and good-nature, caused what was in effect a

revolution in the government.  For it was not the quarrel

between Pompey and Caesar, as most men imagine, which was the

origin of the civil wars, but their union, their conspiring

together at first to subvert the aristocracy, and so quarreling

afterwards between themselves.  Cato, who often foretold what

the consequence of this alliance would be, had then the

character of a sullen, interfering man, but in the end the

reputation of a wise but unsuccessful counselor.

Thus Caesar being doubly supported by the interests of Crassus

and Pompey, was promoted to the consulship, and triumphantly

proclaimed with Calpurnius Bibulus.  When he entered on his

office, he brought in bills which would have been preferred with

better grace by the most audacious of the tribunes than by a

consul, in which he proposed the plantation of colonies and

division of lands, simply to please the commonalty.  The best

and most honorable of the senators opposed it, upon which, as he

had long wished for nothing more than for such a colorable

pretext, he loudly protested how much against his will it was to

be driven to seek support from the people, and how the senate's

insulting and harsh conduct left no other course possible for

him, than to devote himself henceforth to the popular cause and

interest.  And so he hurried out of the senate, and presenting

himself to the people, and there placing Crassus and Pompey, one

on each side of him, he asked them whether they consented to the

bills he had proposed.  They owned their assent, upon which he

desired them to assist him against those who had threatened to

oppose him with their swords.  They engaged they would, and

Pompey added further, that he would meet their swords with a

sword and buckler too.  These words the nobles much resented, as

neither suitable to his own dignity, nor becoming the reverence

due to the senate, but resembling rather the vehemence of a boy,

or the fury of a madman.  But the people were pleased with it.

In order to get a yet firmer hold upon Pompey, Caesar having a

daughter, Julia, who had been before contracted to Servilius

Caepio, now betrothed her to Pompey, and told Servilius he

should have Pompey's daughter, who was not unengaged either, but

promised to Sylla's son, Faustus.  A little time after, Caesar

married Calpurnia, the daughter of Piso, and got Piso made

consul for the year following.  Cato exclaimed loudly against

this, and protested with a great deal of warmth, that it was

intolerable the government should be prostituted by marriages,

and that they should advance one another to the commands of

armies, provinces, and other great posts, by means of women.

Bibulus, Caesar's colleague, finding it was to no purpose to

oppose his bills, but that he was in danger of being murdered in

the forum, as also was Cato, confined himself to his house, and

there let the remaining part of his consulship expire.  Pompey,

when he was married, at once filled the forum with soldiers, and

gave the people his help in passing the new laws, and secured

Caesar the government of all Gaul, both on this and the other

side of the Alps, together with Illyricum, and the command of

four legions for five years.  Cato made some attempts against

these proceedings, but was seized and led off on the way to

prison by Caesar, who expected he would appeal to the tribunes.

But when he saw that Cato went along without speaking a word,

and not only the nobility were indignant, but that the people,

also, out of respect for Cato's virtue, were following in

silence, and with dejected looks, he himself privately desired

one of the tribunes to rescue Cato.  As for the other senators,

some few of them attended the house, the rest being disgusted,

absented themselves.  Hence Considius, a very old man, took

occasion one day to tell Caesar, that the senators did not meet

because they were afraid of his soldiers.  Caesar asked, "Why

don't you then, out of the same fear, keep at home?"  To which

Considius replied, that age was his guard against fear, and that

the small remains of his life were not worth much caution.  But

the most disgraceful thing that was done in Caesar's consulship,

was his assisting to gain the tribuneship for the same Clodius

who had made the attempt upon his wife's chastity, and intruded

upon the secret vigils.  He was elected on purpose to effect

Cicero's downfall; nor did Caesar leave the city to join his

army, till they two had overpowered Cicero, and driven him out

of Italy.

Thus far have we followed Caesar's actions before the wars of

Gaul.  After this, he seems to begin his course afresh, and to

enter upon a new life and scene of action.  And the period of

those wars which he now fought, and those many expeditions in

which he subdued Gaul, showed him to be a soldier and general

not in the least inferior to any of the greatest and most

admired commanders who had ever appeared at the head of armies.

For if we compare him with the Fabii, the Metelli, the Scipios,

and with those who were his contemporaries, or not long before

him, Sylla, Marius, the two Luculli, or even Pompey himself,

whose glory, it may be said, went up at that time to heaven for

every excellence in war, we shall find Caesar's actions to have

surpassed them all.  One he may be held to have outdone in

consideration of the difficulty of the country in which he

fought, another in the extent of territory which he conquered;

some, in the number and strength of the enemies whom he

defeated; one man, because of the wildness and perfidiousness of

the tribes whose good-will he conciliated, another in his

humanity and clemency to those he overpowered; others, again in

his gifts and kindnesses to his soldiers; all alike in the

number of the battles which he fought and the enemies whom he

killed.  For he had not pursued the wars in Gaul full ten years,

when he had taken by storm above eight hundred towns, subdued

three hundred states, and of the three millions of men, who made

up the gross sum of those with whom at several times he engaged,

he had killed one million, and taken captive a second.

He was so much master of the good-will and hearty service of his

soldiers, that those who in other expeditions were but ordinary

men, displayed a courage past defeating or withstanding when

they went upon any danger where Caesar's glory was concerned.

Such a one was Acilius, who, in the sea-fight before Marseilles,

had his right hand struck off with a sword, yet did not quit his

buckler out of his left, but struck the enemies in the face with

it, till he drove them off, and made himself master of the

vessel.  Such another was Cassius Scaeva, who, in a battle near

Dyrrhachium, had one of his eyes shot out with an arrow, his

shoulder pierced with one javelin, and his thigh with another;

and having received one hundred and thirty darts upon his

target, called to the enemy, as though he would surrender

himself.  But when two of them came up to him, he cut off the

shoulder of one with a sword, and by a blow over the face forced

the other to retire, and so with the assistance of his friends,

who now came up, made his escape.  Again, in Britain, when some

of the foremost officers had accidentally got into a morass full

of water, and there were assaulted by the enemy, a common

soldier, whilst Caesar stood and looked on, threw himself into

the midst of them, and after many signal demonstrations of his

valor, rescued the officers, and beat off the barbarians.  He

himself, in the end, took to the water, and with much

difficulty, partly by swimming, partly by wading, passed it, but

in the passage lost his shield.  Caesar and his officers saw it

and admired, and went to meet him with joy and acclamation.  But

the soldier, much dejected and in tears, threw himself down at

Caesar's feet, and begged his pardon for having let go his

buckler.  Another time in Africa, Scipio having taken a ship of

Caesar's in which Granius Petro, lately appointed quaestor, was

sailing, gave the other passengers as free prize to his

soldiers, but thought fit to offer the quaestor his life.  But

he said it was not usual for Caesar's soldiers to take, but give

mercy, and having said so, fell upon his sword and killed

himself.

This love of honor and passion for distinction were inspired

into them and cherished in them by Caesar himself, who, by his

unsparing distribution of money and honors, showed them that he

did not heap up wealth from the wars for his own luxury, or the

gratifying his private pleasures, but that all he received was

but a public fund laid by for the reward and encouragement of

valor, and that he looked upon all he gave to deserving soldiers

as so much increase to his own riches.  Added to this, also,

there was no danger to which he did not willingly expose

himself, no labor from which he pleaded all exemption.  His

contempt of danger was not so much wondered at by his soldiers,

because they knew how much he coveted honor.  But his enduring

so much hardship, which he did to all appearance beyond his

natural strength, very much astonished them.  For he was a spare

man, had a soft and white skin, was distempered in the head, and

subject to an epilepsy, which, it is said, first seized him at

Corduba.  But he did not make the weakness of his constitution a

pretext for his ease, but rather used war as the best physic

against his indispositions; whilst by indefatigable journeys,

coarse diet, frequent lodging in the field, and continual

laborious exercise, he struggled with his diseases, and

fortified his body against all attacks.  He slept generally in

his chariots or litters, employing even his rest in pursuit of

action.  In the day he was thus carried to the forts, garrisons,

and camps, one servant sitting with him, who used to write down

what he dictated as he went, and a soldier attending behind with

his sword drawn.  He drove so rapidly, that when he first left

Rome, he arrived at the river Rhone within eight days.  He had

been an expert rider from his childhood; for it was usual with

him to sit with his hands joined together behind his back, and

so to put his horse to its full speed.  And in this war he

disciplined himself so far as to be able to dictate letters from

on horseback, and to give directions to two who took notes at

the same time, or, as Oppius says, to more.  And it is thought

that he was the first who contrived means for communicating with

friends by cipher, when either press of business, or the large

extent of the city, left him no time for a personal conference

about matters that required dispatch.  How little nice he was in

his diet, may be seen in the following instance.  When at the

table of Valerius Leo, who entertained him at supper at Milan, a

dish of asparagus was put before him, on which his host instead

of oil had poured sweet ointment.  Caesar partook of it without

any disgust, and reprimanded his friends for finding fault with

it.  "For it was enough," said he, "not to eat what you did not

like; but he who reflects on another man's want of breeding,

shows he wants it as much himself."  Another time upon the road

he was driven by a storm into a poor man's cottage, where he

found but one room, and that such as would afford but a mean

reception to a single person, and therefore told his companions,

places of honor should be given up to the greater men, and

necessary accommodations to the weaker, and accordingly ordered

that Oppius, who was in bad health, should lodge within, whilst

he and the rest slept under a shed at the door.

His first war in Gaul was against the Helvetians and Tigurini,

who having burnt their own towns, twelve in number, and four

hundred villages, would have marched forward through that part

of Gaul which was included in the Roman province, as the

Cimbrians and Teutons formerly had done.  Nor were they inferior

to these in courage; and in numbers they were equal, being in

all three hundred thousand, of which one hundred and ninety

thousand were fighting men.  Caesar did not engage the Tigurini

in person, but Labienus, under his directions, routed them near

the river Arar.  The Helvetians surprised Caesar, and

unexpectedly set upon him as he was conducting his army to a

confederate town.  He succeeded, however, in making his retreat

into a strong position, where, when he had mustered and

marshalled his men, his horse was brought to him; upon which he

said, "When I have won the battle, I will use my horse for the

chase, but at present let us go against the enemy,"  and

accordingly charged them on foot.  After a long and severe

combat, he drove the main army out of the field, but found the

hardest work at their carriages and ramparts, where not only the

men stood and fought, but the women also and children defended

themselves, till they were cut to pieces; insomuch that the

fight was scarcely ended till midnight.  This action, glorious

in itself, Caesar crowned with another yet more noble, by

gathering in a body all the barbarians that had escaped out of

the battle, above one hundred thousand in number, and obliging

them to reoccupy the country which they had deserted, and the

cities which they had burnt.  This he did for fear the Germans

should pass in and possess themselves of the land whilst it lay

uninhabited.

His second war was in defense of the Gauls against the Germans,

though some time before he had made Ariovistus, their king,

recognized at Rome as an ally.  But they were very insufferable

neighbors to those under his government; and it was probable,

when occasion offered, they would renounce the present

arrangements, and march on to occupy Gaul.  But finding his

officers timorous, and especially those of the young nobility

who came along with him in hopes of turning their campaigns with

him into a means for their own pleasure or profit, he called

them together, and advised them to march off, and not run the

hazard of a battle against their inclinations, since they had

such weak and unmanly feelings; telling them that he would take

only the tenth legion, and march against the barbarians, whom he

did not expect to find an enemy more formidable than the Cimbri,

nor, he added, should they find him a general inferior to

Marius.  Upon this, the tenth legion deputed some of their body

to pay him their acknowledgments and thanks, and the other

legions blamed their officers, and all, with great vigor and

zeal, followed him many days' journey, till they encamped within

two hundred furlongs of the enemy.  Ariovistus's courage to some

extent was cooled upon their very approach; for never expecting

the Romans would attack the Germans, whom he had thought it more

likely they would not venture to withstand even in defense of

their own subjects, he was the more surprised at Caesar's

conduct, and saw his army to be in consternation.  They were

still more discouraged by the prophecies of their holy women,

who foretell the future by observing the eddies of rivers, and

taking signs from the windings and noise of streams, and who now

warned them not to engage before the next new moon appeared.

Caesar having had intimation of this, and seeing the Germans lie

still, thought it expedient to attack them whilst they were

under these apprehensions, rather than sit still and wait their

time.  Accordingly he made his approaches to the strong-holds

and hills on which they lay encamped, and so galled and fretted

them, that at last they came down with great fury to engage.

But he gained a signal victory, and pursued them for four

hundred furlongs, as far as the Rhine; all which space was

covered with spoils and bodies of the slain.  Ariovistus made

shift to pass the Rhine with the small remains of an army, for

it is said the number of the slain amounted to eighty thousand.

After this action, Caesar left his army at their winter-quarters

in the country of the Sequani, and in order to attend to affairs

at Rome, went into that part of Gaul which lies on the Po, and

was part of his province; for the river Rubicon divides Gaul,

which is on this side the Alps, from the rest of Italy.  There

he sat down and employed himself in courting people's favor;

great numbers coming to him continually, and always finding

their requests answered; for he never failed to dismiss all with

present pledges of his kindness in hand, and further hopes for

the future.  And during all this time of the war in Gaul, Pompey

never observed how Caesar was on the one hand using the arms of

Rome to effect his conquests, and on the other was gaining over

and securing to himself the favor of the Romans, with the wealth

which those conquests obtained him.  But when he heard that the

Belgae, who were the most powerful of all the Gauls, and

inhabited a third part of the country, were revolted, and had

got together a great many thousand men in arms, he immediately

set out and took his way thither with great expedition, and

falling upon the enemy as they were ravaging the Gauls, his

allies, he soon defeated and put to flight the largest and least

scattered division of them.  For though their numbers were

great, yet they made but a slender defense, and the marshes and

deep rivers were made passable to the Roman foot by the vast

quantity of dead bodies.  Of those who revolted, all the tribes

that lived near the ocean came over without fighting, and he,

therefore, led his army against the Nervii, the fiercest and

most warlike people of all in those parts.  These live in a

country covered with continuous woods, and having lodged their

children and property out of the way in the depth of the forest,

fell upon Caesar with a body of sixty thousand men, before he

was prepared for them, while he was making his encampment.  They

soon routed his cavalry, and having surrounded the twelfth and

seventh legions, killed all the officers, and had not Caesar

himself snatched up a buckler, and forced his way through his

own men to come up to the barbarians, or had not the tenth

legion, when they saw him in danger, run in from the tops of the

hills, where they lay, and broken through the enemy's ranks to

rescue him, in all probability not a Roman would have been

saved.  But now, under the influence of Caesar's bold example,

they fought a battle, as the phrase is, of more than human

courage, and yet with their utmost efforts they were not able to

drive the enemy out of the field, but cut them down fighting in

their defense.  For out of sixty thousand men, it is stated that

not above five hundred survived the battle, and of four hundred

of their senators not above three.

When the Roman senate had received news of this, they voted

sacrifices and festivals to the gods, to be strictly observed

for the space of fifteen days, a longer space than ever was

observed for any victory before.  The danger to which they had

been exposed by the joint outbreak of such a number of nations

was felt to have been great; and the people's fondness for

Caesar gave additional luster to successes achieved by him.  He

now, after settling everything in Gaul, came back again, and

spent the winter by the Po, in order to carry on the designs he

had in hand at Rome.  All who were candidates for offices used

his assistance, and were supplied with money from him to corrupt

the people and buy their votes, in return of which, when they

were chosen, they did all things to advance his power.  But what

was more considerable, the most eminent and powerful men in Rome

in great numbers came to visit him at Lucca, Pompey, and

Crassus, and Appius, the governor of Sardinia, and Nepos, the

proconsul of Spain, so that there were in the place at one time

one hundred and twenty lictors, and more than two hundred

senators.  In deliberation here held, it was determined that

Pompey and Crassus should be consuls again for the following

year; that Caesar should have a fresh supply of money, and that

his command should be renewed to him for five years more.  It

seemed very extravagant to all thinking men, that those very

persons who had received so much money from Caesar should

persuade the senate to grant him more, as if he were in want.

Though in truth it was not so much upon persuasion as

compulsion, that, with sorrow and groans for their own acts,

they passed the measure.  Cato was not present, for they had

sent him seasonably out of the way into Cyprus; but Favonius,

who was a zealous imitator of Cato, when he found he could do no

good by opposing it, broke out of the house, and loudly

declaimed against these proceedings to the people, but none gave

him any hearing; some slighting him out of respect to Crassus

and Pompey, and the greater part to gratify Caesar, on whom

depended their hopes.

After this, Caesar returned again to his forces in Gaul, where

he found that country involved in a dangerous war, two strong

nations of the Germans having lately passed the Rhine, to

conquer it; one of them called the Usipes, the other the

Tenteritae. Of the war with this people, Caesar himself has

given this account in his commentaries, that the barbarians,

having sent ambassadors to treat with him, did, during the

treaty, set upon him in his march, by which means with eight

hundred men they routed five thousand of his horse, who did not

suspect their coming; that afterwards they sent other

ambassadors to renew the same fraudulent practices, whom he kept

in custody, and led on his army against the barbarians, as

judging it mere simplicity to keep faith with those who had so

faithlessly broken the terms they had agreed to.  But Tanusius

states, that when the senate decreed festivals and sacrifices

for this victory, Cato declared it to be his opinion that Caesar

ought to be given into the hands of the barbarians, that so the

guilt which this breach of faith might otherwise bring upon the

state, might be expiated by transferring the curse on him, who

was the occasion of it.  Of those who passed the Rhine, there were

four hundred thousand cut off; those few who escaped were

sheltered by the Sugambri, a people of Germany.  Caesar took

hold of this pretense to invade the Germans, being at the same

time ambitious of the honor of being the first man that should

pass the Rhine with an army.  He carried a bridge across it,

though it was very wide, and the current at that particular

point very full, strong, and violent, bringing down with its

waters trunks of trees, and other lumber, which much shook and

weakened the foundations of his bridge.  But he drove great

piles of wood into the bottom of the river above the passage,

to catch and stop these as they floated down, and thus fixing

his bridle upon the stream, successfully finished this bridge,

which no one who saw could believe to be the work but of ten

days.

In the passage of his army over it, he met with no opposition;

the Suevi themselves, who are the most warlike people of all

Germany, flying with their effects into the deepest and most

densely wooded valleys.  When he had burnt all the enemy's

country, and encouraged those who embraced the Roman interest,

he went back into Gaul, after eighteen days' stay in Germany.

But his expedition into Britain was the most famous testimony of

his courage.  For he was the first who brought a navy into the

western ocean, or who sailed into the Atlantic with an army to

make war; and by invading an island, the reported extent of

which had made its existence a matter of controversy among

historians, many of whom questioned whether it were not a mere

name and fiction, not a real place, he might be said to have

carried the Roman empire beyond the limits of the known world.

He passed thither twice from that part of Gaul which lies over

against it, and in several battles which he fought, did more

hurt to the enemy than service to himself, for the islanders

were so miserably poor, that they had nothing worth being

plundered of.  When he found himself unable to put such an end

to the war as he wished, he was content to take hostages from

the king, and to impose a tribute, and then quitted the island.

At his arrival in Gaul, he found letters which lay ready to be

conveyed over the water to him from his friends at Rome,

announcing his daughter's death, who died in labor of a child by

Pompey.  Caesar and Pompey both were much afflicted with her

death, nor were their friends less disturbed, believing that the

alliance was now broken, which had hitherto kept the sickly

commonwealth in peace, for the child also died within a few days

after the mother.  The people took the body of Julia, in spite

of the opposition of the tribunes, and carried it into the field

of Mars, and there her funeral rites were performed, and her

remains are laid.

Caesar's army was now grown very numerous, so that he was forced

to disperse them into various camps for their winter-quarters,

and he having gone himself to Italy as he used to do, in his

absence a general outbreak throughout the whole of Gaul

commenced, and large armies marched about the country, and

attacked the Roman quarters, and attempted to make themselves

masters of the forts where they lay.  The greatest and strongest

party of the rebels, under the command of Abriorix, cut off

Costa and Titurius with all their men, while a force sixty

thousand strong besieged the legion under the command of

Cicero, and had almost taken it by storm, the Roman soldiers

being all wounded, and having quite spent themselves by a

defense beyond their natural strength.  But Caesar, who was at a

great distance, having received the news, quickly got together

seven thousand men, and hastened to relieve Cicero.  The

besiegers were aware of it, and went to meet him, with great

confidence that they should easily overpower such an handful of

men.  Caesar, to increase their presumption, seemed to avoid

fighting, and still marched off, till he found a place

conveniently situated for a few to engage against many, where he

encamped.  He kept his soldiers from making any attack upon the

enemy, and commanded them to raise the ramparts higher, and

barricade the gates, that by show of fear, they might heighten

the enemy's contempt of them.  Till at last they came without

any order in great security to make an assault, when he issued

forth, and put them to flight with the loss of many men.

This quieted the greater part of the commotions in these parts

of Gaul, and Caesar, in the course of the winter, visited every

part of the country, and with great vigilance took precautions

against all innovations.  For there were three legions now come

to him to supply the place of the men he had lost, of which

Pompey furnished him with two, out of those under his command;

the other was newly raised in the part of Gaul by the Po.  But

in a while the seeds of war, which had long since been secretly

sown and scattered by the most powerful men in those warlike

nations, broke forth into the greatest and most dangerous war

that ever was in those parts, both as regards the number of men

in the vigor of their youth who were gathered and armed from all

quarters, the vast funds of money collected to maintain it, the

strength of the towns, and the difficulty of the country where

it was carried on.  It being winter, the rivers were frozen, the

woods covered with snow, and the level country flooded, so that

in some places the ways were lost through the depth of the snow;

in others, the overflowing of marshes and streams made every

kind of passage uncertain.  All which difficulties made it seem

impracticable for Caesar to make any attempt upon the

insurgents.  Many tribes had revolted together, the chief of

them being the Arverni and Carnutini ; the general who had the

supreme command in war was Vergentorix, whose father the Gauls

had put to death on suspicion of his aiming at absolute

government.

He having disposed his army in several bodies, and set officers

over them, drew over to him all the country round about as far

as those that lie upon the Arar, and having intelligence of the

opposition which Caesar now experienced at Rome, thought to

engage all Gaul in the war.  Which if he had done a little

later, when Caesar was taken up with the civil wars, Italy had

been put into as great a terror as before it was by the Cimbri.

But Caesar, who above all men was gifted with the faculty of

making the right use of everything in war, and most especially

of seizing the right moment, as soon as he heard of the revolt,

returned immediately the same way he went, and showed the

barbarians, by the quickness of his march in such a severe

season, that an army was advancing against them which was

invincible.  For in the time that one would have thought it

scarce credible that a courier or express should have come with

a message from him, he himself appeared with all his army,

ravaging the country, reducing their posts, subduing their

towns, receiving into his protection those who declared for him.

Till at last the Edui, who hitherto had styled themselves

brethren to the Romans, and had been much honored by them,

declared against him, and joined the rebels, to the great

discouragement of his army.  Accordingly he removed thence, and

passed the country of the Lingones, desiring to reach the

territories of the Sequani, who were his friends, and who lay

like a bulwark in front of Italy against the other tribes of

Gaul.  There the enemy came upon him, and surrounded him with

many myriads, whom he also was eager to engage; and at last,

after some time and with much slaughter, gained on the whole a

complete victory; though at first he appears to have met with

some reverse, and the Aruveni show you a small sword hanging up

in a temple, which they say was taken from Caesar.  Caesar saw

this afterwards himself, and smiled, and when his friends

advised it should be taken down, would not permit it, because he

looked upon it as consecrated.

After the defeat a great part of those who had escaped, fled

with their king into a town called Alesia, which Caesar

besieged, though the height of the walls, and number of those

who defended them, made it appear impregnable; and meantime,

from without the walls, he was assailed by a greater danger than

can be expressed.  For the choice men of Gaul, picked out of

each nation, and well armed, came to relieve Alesia, to the

number of three hundred thousand; nor were there in the town

less than one hundred and seventy thousand.  So that Caesar

being shut up betwixt two such forces, was compelled to protect

himself by two walls, one towards the town, the other against

the relieving army, as knowing it these forces should join, his

affairs would be entirely ruined.  The danger that he underwent

before Alesia, justly gained him great honor on many accounts,

and gave him an opportunity of showing greater instances of his

valor and conduct than any other contest had done.  One wonders

much how he should be able to engage and defeat so many

thousands of men without the town, and not be perceived by those

within, but yet more, that the Romans themselves, who guarded

their wall which was next the town, should be strangers to it.

For even they knew nothing of the victory, till they heard the

cries of the men and lamentations of the women who were in the

town, and had from thence seen the Romans at a distance carrying

into their camp a great quantity of bucklers, adorned with gold

and silver, many breastplates stained with blood, besides cups

and tents made in the Gallic fashion.  So soon did so vast an

army dissolve and vanish like a ghost or dream, the greatest

part of them being killed upon the spot.  Those who were in

Alesia, having given themselves and Caesar much trouble,

surrendered at last; and Vergentorix, who was the chief spring

of all the war, putting his best armor on, and adorning his

horse, rode out of the gates, and made a turn about Caesar as he

was sitting, then quitted his horse, threw off his armor, and

remained seated quietly at Caesar's feet until he was led away

to be reserved for the triumph.

Caesar had long ago resolved upon the overthrow of Pompey, as

had Pompey, for that matter, upon his.  For Crassus, the fear of

whom had hitherto kept them in peace, having now been killed in

Parthia, if the one of them wished to make himself the greatest

man in Rome, he had only to overthrow the other; and if he again

wished to prevent his own fall, he had nothing for it but to be

beforehand with him whom he feared.  Pompey had not been long

under any such apprehensions, having till lately despised

Caesar, as thinking it no difficult matter to put down him whom

he himself had advanced.  But Caesar had entertained this design

from the beginning against his rivals, and had retired, like an

expert wrestler, to prepare himself apart for the combat.

Making the Gallic wars his exercise-ground, he had at once

improved the strength of his soldiery, and had heightened his

own glory by his great actions, so that he was looked on as one

who might challenge comparison with Pompey.  Nor did he let go

any of those advantages which were now given him both by Pompey

himself and the times, and the ill government of Rome, where all

who were candidates for offices publicly gave money, and without

any shame bribed the people, who having received their pay, did

not contend for their benefactors with their bare suffrages, but

with bows, swords, and slings.  So that after having many times

stained the place of election with the blood of men killed upon

the spot, they left the city at last without a government at

all, to be carried about like a ship without a pilot to steer

her; while all who had any wisdom could only be thankful if a

course of such wild and stormy disorder and madness might end no

worse than in a monarchy.  Some were so bold as to declare

openly, that the government was incurable but by a monarchy, and

that they ought to take that remedy from the hands of the

gentlest physician, meaning Pompey, who, though in words he

pretended to decline it, yet in reality made his utmost efforts

to be declared dictator.  Cato perceiving his design, prevailed

with the senate to make him sole consul, that with the offer of

a more legal sort of monarchy he might be withheld from

demanding the dictatorship.  They over and above voted him the

continuance of his provinces, for he had two, Spain and all

Africa, which he governed by his lieutenants, and maintained

armies under him, at the yearly charge of a thousand talents out

of the public treasury.

Upon this Caesar also sent and petitioned for the consulship,

and the continuance of his provinces.  Pompey at first did not

stir in it, but Marcellus and Lentulus opposed it, who had

always hated Caesar, and now did every thing, whether fit or

unfit, which might disgrace and affront him.  For they took away

the privilege of Roman citizens from the people of New Comum,

who were a colony that Caesar had lately planted in Gaul; and

Marcellus, who was then consul, ordered one of the senators of

that town, then at Rome, to be whipped, and told him he laid

that mark upon him to signify he was no citizen of Rome, bidding

him, when he went back again, to show it to Caesar.  After

Marcellus's consulship, Caesar began to lavish gifts upon all

the public men out of the riches he had taken from the Gauls;

discharged Curio, the tribune, from his great debts; gave

Paulus, then consul, fifteen hundred talents, with which he

built the noble court of justice adjoining the forum, to supply

the place of that called the Fulvian.  Pompey, alarmed at these

preparations, now openly took steps, both by himself and his

friends, to have a successor appointed in Caesar's room, and

sent to demand back the soldiers whom he had lent him to carry

on the wars in Gaul.  Caesar returned them, and made each

soldier a present of two hundred and fifty drachmas.  The

officer who brought them home to Pompey, spread amongst the

people no very fair or favorable report of Caesar, and flattered

Pompey himself with false suggestions that he was wished for by

Caesar's army; and though his affairs here were in some

embarrassment through the envy of some, and the ill state of the

government, yet there the army was at his command, and if they

once crossed into Italy, would presently declare for him; so

weary were they of Caesar's endless expeditions, and so

suspicious of his designs for a monarchy.  Upon this Pompey grew

presumptuous, and neglected all warlike preparations, as

fearing no danger, and used no other means against him than mere

speeches and votes, for which Caesar cared nothing.  And one of

his captains, it is said, who was sent by him to Rome, standing

before the senate-house one day, and being told that the senate

would not give Caesar a longer time in his government, clapped

his hand on the hilt of his sword, and said, "But this shall."

Yet the demands which Caesar made had the fairest colors of

equity imaginable.  For he proposed to lay down his arms, and

that Pompey should do the same, and both together should become

private men, and each expect a reward of his services from the

public.  For that those who proposed to disarm him, and at the

same time to confirm Pompey in all the power he held, were

simply establishing the one in the tyranny which they accused

the other of aiming at.  When Curio made these proposals to the

people in Caesar's name, he was loudly applauded, and some threw

garlands towards him, and dismissed him as they do successful

wrestlers, crowned with flowers.  Antony, being tribune,

produced a letter sent from Caesar on this occasion, and read

it, though the consuls did what they could to oppose it.  But

Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, proposed in the senate, that if

Caesar did not lay down his arms within such a time, he should

be voted an enemy; and the consuls putting it to the question,

whether Pompey should dismiss his soldiers, and again, whether

Caesar should disband his, very few assented to the first, but

almost all to the latter.  But Antony proposing again, that both

should lay down their commissions, all but a very few agreed to

it.  Scipio was upon this very violent, and Lentulus the consul

cried aloud, that they had need of arms, and not of suffrages,

against a robber; so that the senators for the present

adjourned, and appeared in mourning as a mark of their grief for

the dissension.

Afterwards there came other letters from Caesar, which seemed

yet more moderate, for he proposed to quit everything else, and

only to retain Gaul within the Alps, Illyricum, and two

legions, till he should stand a second time for consul.  Cicero,

the orator, who was lately returned from Cilicia, endeavored to

reconcile differences, and softened Pompey, who was willing to

comply in other things, but not to allow him the soldiers.  At

last Cicero used his persuasions with Caesar's friends to accept

of the provinces, and six thousand soldiers only, and so to make

up the quarrel.  And Pompey was inclined to give way to this,

but Lentulus, the consul, would not hearken to it, but drove

Antony and Curio out of the senate-house with insults, by which

he afforded Caesar the most plausible pretense that could be,

and one which he could readily use to inflame the soldiers, by

showing them two persons of such repute and authority, who were

forced to escape in a hired carriage in the dress of slaves.

For so they were glad to disguise themselves, when they fled out

of Rome.

There were not about him at that time above three hundred horse,

and five thousand foot; for the rest of his army, which was left

behind the Alps, was to be brought after him by officers who had

received orders for that purpose.  But he thought the first

motion towards the design which he had on foot did not require

large forces at present, and that what was wanted was to make

this first step suddenly, and so as to astound his enemies with

the boldness of it; as it would be easier, he thought, to throw

them into consternation by doing what they never anticipated,

than fairly to conquer them, if he had alarmed them by his

preparations.  And therefore, he commanded his captains and

other officers to go only with their swords in their hands,

without any other arms, and make themselves masters of Ariminum,

a large city of Gaul, with as little disturbance and bloodshed

as possible.  He committed the care of these forces to

Hortensius, and himself spent the day in public as a stander-by

and spectator of the gladiators, who exercised before him.  A

little before night he attended to his person, and then went

into the hall, and conversed for some time with those he had

invited to supper, till it began to grow dusk, when he rose from

table, and made his excuses to the company, begging them to stay

till he came back, having already given private directions to a

few immediate friends, that they should follow him, not all the

same way, but some one way, some another.  He himself got into

one of the hired carriages, and drove at first another way, but

presently turned towards Ariminum.  When he came to the river

Rubicon, which parts Gaul within the Alps from the rest of

Italy, his thoughts began to work, now he was just entering upon

the danger, and he wavered much in his mind, when he considered

the greatness of the enterprise into which he was throwing

himself.  He checked his course, and ordered a halt, while he

revolved with himself, and often changed his opinion one way and

the other, without speaking a word.  This was when his purposes

fluctuated most; presently he also discussed the matter with his

friends who were about him, (of which number Asinius Pollio was

one,) computing how many calamities his passing that river would

bring upon mankind, and what a relation of it would be

transmitted to posterity.  At last, in a sort of passion,

casting aside calculation, and abandoning himself to what might

come, and using the proverb frequently in their mouths who enter

upon dangerous and bold attempts, "The die is cast," with these

words he took the river.  Once over, he used all expedition

possible, and before it was day reached Ariminum, and took it.

It is said that the night before he passed the river, he had an

impious dream, that he was unnaturally familiar with his own

mother.

As soon as Ariminum was taken, wide gates, so to say, were

thrown open, to let in war upon every land alike and sea, and

with the limits of the province, the boundaries of the laws were

transgressed.  Nor would one have thought that, as at other

times, the mere men and women fled from one town of Italy to

another in their consternation, but that the very towns

themselves left their sites, and fled for succor to each other.

The city of Rome was overrun as it were with a deluge, by the

conflux of people flying in from all the neighboring places.

Magistrates could no longer govern, nor the eloquence of any

orator quiet it; it was all but suffering shipwreck by the

violence of its own tempestuous agitation.  The most vehement

contrary passions and impulses were at work everywhere.  Nor

did those who rejoiced at the prospect of the change altogether

conceal their feelings, but when they met, as in so great a city

they frequently must, with the alarmed and dejected of the other

party, they provoked quarrels by their bold expressions of

confidence in the event.  Pompey, sufficiently disturbed of

himself; was yet more perplexed by the clamors of others; some

telling him that he justly suffered for having armed Caesar

against himself and the government; others blaming him for

permitting Caesar to be insolently used by Lentulus, when he

made such ample concessions, and offered such reasonable

proposals towards an accommodation.  Favonius bade him now stamp

upon the ground; for once talking big in the senate, he desired

them not to trouble themselves about making any preparations for

the war, for that he himself, with one stamp of his foot, would

fill all Italy with soldiers.  Yet still Pompey at that time had

more forces than Caesar; but he was not permitted to pursue his

own thoughts, but being continually disturbed with false reports

and alarms, as if the enemy was close upon him and carrying all

before him, he gave way, and let himself be borne down by the

general cry.  He put forth an edict declaring the city to be in

a state of anarchy, and left it with orders that the senate

should follow him, and that no one should stay behind who did

not prefer tyranny to their country and liberty.

The consuls at once fled, without making even the usual

sacrifices; so did most of the senators, carrying off their own

goods in as much haste as if they had been robbing their

neighbors.  Some, who had formerly much favored Caesar's cause,

in the prevailing alarm, quitted their own sentiments, and

without any prospect of good to themselves, were carried along

by the common stream.  It was a melancholy thing to see the city

tossed in these tumults, like a ship given up by her pilots, and

left to run, as chance guides her, upon any rock in her way.

Yet, in spite of their sad condition, people still esteemed the

place of their exile to be their country for Pompey's sake, and

fled from Rome, as if it had been Caesar's camp.  Labienus even,

who had been one of Caesar's nearest friends, and his

lieutenant, and who had fought by him zealously in the Gallic

wars, now deserted him, and went over to Pompey.  Caesar sent

all his money and equipage after him, and then sat down before

Corfinium, which was garrisoned with thirty cohorts under the

command of Domitius.  He, in despair of maintaining the defense,

requested a physician, whom he had among his attendants, to give

him poison; and taking the dose, drank it, in hopes of being

dispatched by it.  But soon after, when he was told that Caesar

showed the utmost clemency towards those he took prisoners, he

lamented his misfortune, and blamed the hastiness of his

resolution.  His physician consoled him, by informing him that

he had taken a sleeping draught, not a poison; upon which, much

rejoiced, and rising from his bed, he went presently to Caesar,

and gave him the pledge of his hand, yet afterwards again

went over to Pompey.  The report of these actions at Rome,

quieted those who were there, and some who had fled thence

returned.

Caesar took into his army Domitius's soldiers, as he did all

those whom he found in any town enlisted for Pompey's service.

Being now strong and formidable enough, he advanced against

Pompey himself, who did not stay to receive him, but fled to

Brundisium, having sent the consuls before with a body of troops

to Dyrrhachium.  Soon after, upon Caesar's approach, he set to

sea, as shall be more particularly related in his Life.  Caesar

would have immediately pursued him, but wanted shipping, and

therefore went back to Rome, having made himself master of all

Italy without bloodshed in the space of sixty days.  When he

came thither, he found the city more quiet than he expected, and

many senators present, to whom he addressed himself with

courtesy and deference, desiring them to send to Pompey about

any reasonable accommodations towards a peace.  But nobody

complied with this proposal; whether out of fear of Pompey, whom

they had deserted, or that they thought Caesar did not mean what

he said, but thought it his interest to talk plausibly.

Afterwards, when Metellus, the tribune, would have hindered him

from taking money out of the public treasure, and adduced some

laws against it, Caesar replied, that arms and laws had each

their own time; "If what I do displeases you, leave the place;

war allows no free talking.  When I have laid down my arms, and

made peace, come back and make what speeches you please.  And

this," he added, "I tell you in diminution of my own just right,

as indeed you and all others who have appeared against me and

are now in my power, may be treated as I please."  Having said

this to Metellus, he went to the doors of the treasury, and the

keys being not to be found, sent for smiths to force them open.

Metellus again making resistance, and some encouraging him in

it, Caesar, in a louder tone, told him he would put him to

death, if he gave him any further disturbance.  "And this," said

he, "you know, young man, is more disagreeable for me to say,

than to do."  These words made Metellus withdraw for fear, and

obtained speedy execution henceforth for all orders that Caesar

gave for procuring necessaries for the war.

He was now proceeding to Spain, with the determination of first

crushing Afranius and Varro, Pompey's lieutenants, and making

himself master of the armies and provinces under them, that he

might then more securely advance against Pompey, when he had no

enemy left behind him.  In this expedition his person was often

in danger from ambuscades, and his army by want of provisions,

yet he did not desist from pursuing the enemy, provoking them to

fight, and hemming them with his fortifications, till by main

force he made himself master of their camps and their forces.

Only the generals got off, and fled to Pompey.

When Caesar came back to Rome, Piso, his father-in-law, advised

him to send men to Pompey, to treat of a peace; but Isauricus,

to ingratiate himself with Caesar, spoke against it.  After

this, being created dictator by the senate, he called home the

exiles, and gave back then rights as citizens to the children of

those who had suffered under Sylla; he relieved the debtors by

an act remitting some part of the interest on their debts, and

passed some other measures of the same sort, but not many.  For

within eleven days he resigned his dictatorship, and having

declared himself consul, with Servilius Isauricus, hastened

again to the war.  He marched so fast, that he left all his army

behind him, except six hundred chosen horse, and five legions,

with which he put to sea in the very middle of winter, about

the beginning of the month January, (which corresponds pretty

nearly with the Athenian month Posideon,) and having past the

Ionian Sea, took Oricum and Apollonia, and then sent back the

ships to Brundisium, to bring over the soldiers who were left

behind in the march.  They, while yet on the march, their bodies

now no longer in the full vigor of youth, and they themselves

weary with such a multitude of wars, could not but exclaim

against Caesar, "When at last, and where, will this Caesar let

us be quiet?  He carries us from place to place, and uses us as

if we were not to be worn out, and had no sense of labor.  Even

our iron itself is spent by blows, and we ought to have some

pity on our bucklers and breastplates, which have been used so

long.  Our wounds, if nothing else, should make him see that we

are mortal men, whom he commands, subject to the same pains and

sufferings as other human beings.  The very gods themselves

cannot force the winter season, or hinder the storms in their

time; yet he pushes forward, as if he were not pursuing, but

flying from an enemy."  So they talked as they marched leisurely

towards Brundisium.  But when they came thither, and found

Caesar gone off before them, their feelings changed, and they

blamed themselves as traitors to their general.  They now railed

at their officers for marching so slowly, and placing themselves

on the heights overlooking the sea towards Epirus, they kept

watch to see if they could espy the vessels which were to

transport them to Caesar.

He in the meantime was posted in Apollonia, but had not an army

with him able to fight the enemy, the forces from Brundisium

being so long in coming, which put him to great suspense and

embarrassment what to do.  At last he resolved upon a most

hazardous experiment, and embarked, without anyone's knowledge,

in a boat of twelve oars, to cross over to Brundisium, though

the sea was at that time covered with a vast fleet of the

enemies.  He got on board in the night time, in the dress of a

slave, and throwing himself down like a person of no

consequence, lay along at the bottom of the vessel.  The river

Anius was to carry them down to sea, and there used to blow a

gentle gale every morning from the land, which made it calm at

the mouth of the river, by driving the waves forward; but this

night there had blown a strong wind from the sea, which

overpowered that from the land, so that where the river met the

influx of the sea-water and the opposition of the waves, it was

extremely rough and angry; and the current was beaten back with

such a violent swell, that the master of the boat could not make

good his passage, but ordered his sailors to tack about and

return.  Caesar, upon this, discovers himself, and taking the

man by the hand, who was surprised to see him there, said, "Go

on, my friend, and fear nothing; you carry Caesar and his

fortune in your boat."  The mariners, when they heard that,

forgot the storm, and laying all their strength to their oars,

did what they could to force their way down the river.  But when

it was to no purpose, and the vessel now took in much water,

Caesar finding himself in such danger in the very mouth of the

river, much against his will permitted the master to turn back.

When he was come to land, his soldiers ran to him in a

multitude, reproaching him for what he had done, and indignant

that he should think himself not strong enough to get a victory

by their sole assistance, but must disturb himself, and expose

his life for those who were absent, as if he could not trust

those who were with him.

After this, Antony came over with the forces from Brundisium,

which encouraged Caesar to give Pompey battle, though he was

encamped very advantageously, and furnished with plenty of

provisions both by sea and land, whilst he himself was at the

beginning but ill-supplied, and before the end was extremely

pinched for want of necessaries, so that his soldiers were

forced to dig up a kind of root which grew there, and tempering

it with milk, to feed on it.  Sometimes they made a kind of

bread of it, and advancing up to the enemy's outposts, would

throw in these loaves, telling them, that as long as the earth

produced such roots they would not give up blockading Pompey.

But Pompey took what care he could, that neither the loaves nor

the words should reach his men, who were out of heart and

despondent, through terror at the fierceness and hardiness of

their enemies, whom they looked upon as a sort of wild beasts.

There were continual skirmishes about Pompey's outworks, in all

which Caesar had the better, except one, when his men were

forced to fly in such a manner that he had like to have lost his

camp.  For Pompey made such a vigorous sally on them that not a

man stood his ground; the trenches were filled with the

slaughter, many fell upon their own ramparts and bulwarks,

whither they were driven in flight by the enemy.  Caesar met

them, and would have turned them back, but could not.  When he

went to lay hold of the ensigns, those who carried them threw

them down, so that the enemies took thirty-two of them.  He

himself narrowly escaped; for taking hold of one of his

soldiers, a big and strong man, that was flying by him, he bade

him stand and face about; but the fellow, full of apprehensions

from the danger he was in, laid hold of his sword, as if he

would strike Caesar, but Caesar's armor-bearer cut off his arm.

Caesar's affairs were so desperate at that time, that when

Pompey, either through over-cautiousness, or his ill fortune,

did not give the finishing stroke to that great success, but

retreated after he had driven the routed enemy within their

camp, Caesar, upon seeing his withdrawal, said to his friends,

"The victory to-day had been on the enemies' side, if they had

had a general who knew how to gain it."  When he was retired

into his tent, he laid himself down to sleep, but spent that

night as miserably as ever he did any, in perplexity and

consideration with himself, coming to the conclusion that he had

conducted the war amiss.  For when he had a fertile country

before him, and all the wealthy cities of Macedonia and

Thessaly, he had neglected to carry the war thither, and had sat

down by the seaside, where his enemies had such a powerful

fleet, so that he was in fact rather besieged by the want of

necessaries, than besieging others with his arms.  Being thus

distracted in his thoughts with the view of the difficulty and

distress he was in, he raised his camp, with the intention of

advancing towards Scipio, who lay in Macedonia; hoping either to

entice Pompey into a country where he should fight without the

advantage he now had of supplies from the sea, or to overpower

Scipio, if not assisted.

This set all Pompey's army and officers on fire to hasten and

pursue Caesar, whom they concluded to be beaten and flying.  But

Pompey was afraid to hazard a battle on which so much depended,

and being himself provided with all necessaries for any length

of time, thought to tire out and waste the vigor of Caesar's

army, which could not last long.  For the best part of his men,

though they had great experience and showed an irresistible

courage in all engagements, yet by their frequent marches,

changing their camps, attacking fortifications, and keeping

long night-watches, were getting worn-out and broken; they being

now old, their bodies less fit for labor, and their courage,

also, beginning to give way with the failure of their strength.

Besides, it was said that an infectious disease, occasioned by

their irregular diet, was prevailing in Caesar's army, and what

was of greatest moment, he was neither furnished with money nor

provisions, so that in a little time he must needs fall of

himself.

For these reasons Pompey had no mind to fight him, but was

thanked for it by none but Cato, who rejoiced at the prospect of

sparing his fellow-citizens.  For he when he saw the dead bodies

of those who had fallen in the last battle on Caesar's side, to

the number of a thousand, turned away, covered his face, and

shed tears.  But everyone else upbraided Pompey for being

reluctant to fight, and tried to goad him on by such nicknames

as Agamemnon, and king of kings, as if he were in no hurry to

lay down his sovereign authority, but was pleased to see so many

commanders attending on him, and paying their attendance at his

tent.  Favonius, who affected Cato's free way of speaking his

mind, complained bitterly that they should eat no figs even this

year at Tusculum, because of Pompey's love of command.

Afranius, who was lately returned out of Spain, and on account

of his ill success there, labored under the suspicion of having

been bribed to betray the army, asked why they did not fight

this purchaser of provinces.  Pompey was driven, against his own

will, by this kind of language, into offering battle, and

proceeded to follow Caesar.  Caesar had found great difficulties

in his march, for no country would supply him with provisions,

his reputation being very much fallen since his late defeat.

But after he took Gomphi, a town of Thessaly, he not only found

provisions for his army, but physic too.  For there they met

with plenty of wine, which they took very freely, and heated

with this, sporting and reveling on their march in bacchanalian

fashion, they shook off the disease, and their whole

constitution was relieved and changed into another habit.

When the two armies were come into Pharsalia, and both encamped

there, Pompey's thoughts ran the same way as they had done

before, against fighting, and the more because of some unlucky

presages, and a vision he had in a dream. But those who were

about him were so confident of success, that Domitius, and

Spinther, and Scipio, as if they had already conquered,

quarreled which should succeed Caesar in the pontificate.  And

many sent to Rome to take houses fit to accommodate consuls and

praetors, as being sure of entering upon those offices, as soon

as the battle was over.  The cavalry especially were obstinate

for fighting, being splendidly armed and bravely mounted, and

valuing themselves upon the fine horses they kept, and upon

their own handsome persons; as also upon the advantage of their

numbers, for they were five thousand against one thousand of

Caesar's.  Nor were the numbers of the infantry less

disproportionate, there being forty-five thousand of Pompey's,

against twenty-two thousand of the enemy.

Caesar, collecting his soldiers together, told them that

Corfinius  was coming up to them with two legions, and that

fifteen cohorts more under Calenus were posted at Megara and

Athens; he then asked them whether they would stay till these

joined them, or would hazard the battle by themselves.  They all

cried out to him not to wait, but on the contrary to do whatever

he could to bring about an engagement as soon as possible.  When

he sacrificed to the gods for the lustration of his army, upon

the death of the first victim, the augur told him, within three

days he should come to a decisive action.  Caesar asked him

whether he saw anything in the entrails, which promised a

happy event.  "That," said the priest, "you can best answer

yourself; for the gods signify a great alteration from the

present posture of affairs.  If, therefore, you think yourself

well off now, expect worse fortune; if unhappy, hope for

better."  The night before the battle, as he walked the rounds

about midnight, there was a light seen in the heaven, very

bright and flaming, which seemed to pass over Caesar's camp, and

fall into Pompey's.  And when Caesar's soldiers came to relieve

the watch in the morning, they perceived a panic disorder among

the enemies.  However, he did not expect to fight that day, but

set about raising his camp with the intention of marching

towards Scotussa.

But when the tents were now taken down, his scouts rode up to

him, and told him the enemy would give him battle.  With this

news he was extremely pleased, and having performed his

devotions to the gods, set his army in battle array, dividing

them into three bodies.  Over the middlemost he placed Domitius

Calvinus; Antony commanded the left wing, and he himself the

right, being resolved to fight at the head of the tenth legion.

But when he saw the enemies' cavalry taking position against

him, being struck with their fine appearance and their number,

he gave private orders that six cohorts from the rear of the

army should come round and join him, whom he posted behind the

right wing, and instructed them what they should do, when the

enemy's horse came to charge.  On the other side, Pompey

commanded the right wing, Domitius the left, and Scipio,

Pompey's father-in-law, the center.  The whole weight of the

cavalry was collected on the left wing, with the intent that

they should outflank the right wing of the enemy, and rout that

part where the general himself commanded.  For they thought no

phalanx of infantry could be solid enough to sustain such a

shock, but that they must necessarily be broken and shattered

all to pieces upon the onset of so immense a force of cavalry.

When they were ready on both sides to give the signal for

battle, Pompey commended his foot who were in the front to stand

their ground, and without breaking their order, receive quietly

the enemy's first attack, till they came within javelin's cast.

Caesar, in this respect, also, blames Pompey's generalship, as

if he had not been aware how the first encounter, when made with

an impetus and upon the run, gives weight and force to the

strokes, and fires the men's spirits into a flame, which the

general concurrence fans to full heat.  He himself was just

putting the troops into motion and advancing to the action, when

he found one of his captains, a trusty and experienced soldier,

encouraging his men to exert their utmost.  Caesar called him by

his name, and said, "What hopes, Caius Crassinius, and what

grounds for encouragement?"  Crassinius stretched out his hand,

and cried in a loud voice, "We shall conquer nobly, Caesar; and

I this day will deserve your praises, either alive or dead."  So

he said, and was the first man to run in upon the enemy,

followed by the hundred and twenty soldiers about him, and

breaking through the first rank, still pressed on forwards with

much slaughter of the enemy, till at last he was struck back by

the wound of a sword, which went in at his mouth with such force

that it came out at his neck behind.

Whilst the foot was thus sharply engaged in the main battle, on

the flank Pompey's horse rode up confidently, and opened their

ranks very wide, that they might surround the Fight wing of

Caesar.  But before they engaged, Caesar's cohorts rushed out

and attacked them, and did not dart their javelins at a

distance, nor strike at the thighs and legs, as they usually did

in close battle, but aimed at their faces.  For thus Caesar had

instructed them, in hopes that young gentlemen, who had not

known much of battles and wounds, but came wearing their hair

long, in the flower of their age and height of their beauty,

would be more apprehensive of such blows, and not care for

hazarding both a danger at present and a blemish for the future.

And so it proved, for they were so far from bearing the stroke

of the javelins, that they could not stand the sight of them,

but turned about, and covered their faces to secure them.  Once

in disorder, presently they turned about to fly; and so most

shamefully ruined all.  For those who had beat them back, at

once outflanked the infantry, and falling on their rear, cut

them to pieces.  Pompey, who commanded the other wing of the

army, when he saw his cavalry thus broken and flying, was no

longer himself, nor did he now remember that he was Pompey the

Great, but like one whom some god had deprived of his senses,

retired to his tent without speaking; a word, and there sat to

expect the event, till the whole army was routed, and the enemy

appeared upon the works which were thrown up before the camp,

where they closely engaged with his men, who were posted there

to defend it.  Then first he seemed to have recovered his

senses, and uttering, it is said, only these words, "What, into

the camp too?" he laid aside his general's habit, and putting on

such clothes as might best favor his flight, stole off.  What

fortune he met with afterwards, how he took shelter in Egypt,

and was murdered there, we tell you in his Life.

Caesar, when he came to view Pompey's camp, and saw some of his

opponents dead upon the ground, others dying, said, with a

groan, "This they would have; they brought me to this necessity.

I, Caius Caesar, after succeeding in so many wars, had been

condemned, had I dismissed my army."  These words, Pollio says,

Caesar spoke in Latin at that time, and that he himself wrote

them in Greek; adding, that those who were killed at the taking

of the camp, were most of them servants; and that not above six

thousand soldiers fell.  Caesar incorporated most of the foot

whom he took prisoners, with his own legions, and gave a free

pardon to many of the distinguished persons, and amongst the

rest, to Brutus, who afterwards killed him.  He did not

immediately appear after the battle was over, which put Caesar,

it is said, into great anxiety for him; nor was his pleasure

less when he saw him present himself alive.

There were many prodigies that foreshowed this victory, but the

most remarkable that we are told of, was that at Tralles.  In

the temple of Victory stood Caesar's statue.  The ground on

which it stood was naturally hard and solid, and the stone with

which it was paved still harder; yet it is said that a palm-tree

shot itself up near the pedestal of this statue.  In the city of

Padua, one Caius Cornelius, who had the character of a good

augur, the fellow-citizen and acquaintance of Livy, the

historian, happened to be making some augural observations that

very day when the battle was fought.  And first, as Livy tells

us, he pointed out the time of the fight, and said to those who

were by him, that just then the battle was begun, and the men

engaged.  When he looked a second time, and observed the omens,

he leaped up as if he had been inspired, and cried out, "Caesar,

you are victorious."  This much surprised the standers by, but

he took the garland which he had on from his head, and swore he

would never wear it again till the event should give authority

to his art.  This Livy positively states for a truth.

Caesar, as a memorial of his victory, gave the Thessalians

their freedom, and then went in pursuit of Pompey.  When he was

come into Asia, to gratify Theopompus, the author of the

collection of fables, he enfranchised the Cnidians, and remitted

one third of their tribute to all the people of the province of

Asia.  When he came to Alexandria, where Pompey was already

murdered, he would not look upon Theodotus, who presented him

with his head, but taking only his signet, shed tears.  Those of

Pompey's friends who had been arrested by the king of Egypt, as

they were wandering in those parts, he relieved, and offered

them his own friendship.  In his letter to his friends at Rome,

he told them that the greatest and most signal pleasure his

victory had given him, was to be able continually to save the

lives of fellow-citizens who had fought against him.  As to the

war in Egypt, some say it was at once dangerous and

dishonorable, and noways necessary, but occasioned only by his

passion for Cleopatra.  Others blame the ministers of the king,

and especially the eunuch Pothinus, who was the chief favorite,

and had lately killed Pompey, who had banished Cleopatra, and

was now secretly plotting Caesar's destruction, (to prevent

which, Caesar from that time began to sit up whole nights, under

pretense of drinking, for the security of his person,) while

openly he was intolerable in his affronts to Caesar, both by his

words and actions.  For when Caesar's soldiers had musty and

unwholesome corn measured out to them, Pothinus told them they

must be content with it, since they were fed at another's cost.

He ordered that his table should be served with wooden and

earthen dishes, and said Caesar had carried off all the gold and

silver plate, under pretense of arrears of debt.  For the

present king's father owed Caesar one thousand seven hundred and

fifty myriads of money; Caesar had formerly remitted to his

children the rest, but thought fit to demand the thousand

myriads at that time, to maintain his army.  Pothinus told him

that he had better go now and attend to his other affairs of

greater consequence, and that he should receive his money at

another time with thanks.  Caesar replied that he did not want

Egyptians to be his counselors, and soon after, privately sent

for Cleopatra from her retirement.

She took a small boat, and one only of her confidents,

Apollodorus, the Sicilian, along with her, and in the dusk of

the evening landed near the palace.  She was at a loss how to

get in undiscovered, till she thought of putting herself into

the coverlet of a bed and lying at length, whilst Apollodorus

tied up the bedding and carried it on his back through the gates

to Caesar's apartment.  Caesar was first captivated by this

proof of Cleopatra's bold wit, and was afterwards so overcome by

the charm of her society, that he made a reconciliation between

her and her brother, on condition that she should rule as his

colleague in the kingdom.  A festival was kept to celebrate this

reconciliation, where Caesar's barber, a busy, listening fellow,

whose excessive timidity made him inquisitive into everything,

discovered that there was a plot carrying on against Caesar by

Achillas, general of the king's forces, and Pothinus, the

eunuch.  Caesar, upon the first intelligence of it, set a guard

upon the hall where the feast was kept, and killed Pothinus.

Achillas escaped to the army, and raised a troublesome and

embarrassing war against Caesar, which it was not easy for him

to manage with his few soldiers against so powerful a city and

so large an army.  The first difficulty he met with was want of

water, for the enemies had turned the canals. Another was, when

the enemy endeavored to cut off his communication by sea, he was

forced to divert that danger by setting fire to his own ships,

which, after burning the docks, thence spread on and destroyed

the great library.  A third was, when in an engagement near

Pharos, he leaped from the mole into a small boat, to assist his

soldiers who were in danger, and when the Egyptians pressed him

on every side, he threw himself into the sea, and with much

difficulty swam off.  This was the time when, according to the

story, he had a number of manuscripts in his hand, which, though

he was continually darted at, and forced to keep his head often

under water, yet he did not let go, but held them up safe from

wetting in one hand, whilst he swam with the other.  His boat,

in the meantime, was quickly sunk.  At last, the king having

gone off to Achillas and his party, Caesar engaged and conquered

them.  Many fell in that battle, and the king himself was never

seen after.  Upon this, he left Cleopatra queen of Egypt, who

soon after had a son by him, whom the Alexandrians called

Caesarion, and then departed for Syria.

Thence he passed to Asia, where he heard that Domitius was

beaten by Pharnaces, son of Mithridates, and had fled out of

Pontus with a handful of men; and that Pharnaces pursued the

victory so eagerly, that though he was already master of

Bithynia and Cappadocia, he had a further design of attempting

the Lesser Armenia, and was inviting all the kings and tetrarchs

there to rise.  Caesar immediately marched against him with

three legions, fought him near Zela, drove him out of Pontus,

and totally defeated his army.  When he gave Amantius, a friend

of his at Rome, an account of this action, to express the

promptness and rapidity of it, he used three words, I came, saw,

and conquered, which in Latin having all the same cadence,

carry with them a very suitable air of brevity.

Hence he crossed into Italy, and came to Rome at the end of that

year, for which he had been a second time chosen dictator,

though that office had never before lasted a whole year, and was

elected consul for the next.  He was ill spoken of, because upon

a mutiny of some soldiers, who killed Cosconius and Galba, who

had been praetors, he gave them only the slight reprimand of

calling them Citizens, instead of Fellow-Soldiers, and

afterwards assigned to each man a thousand drachmas, besides a

share of lands in Italy.  He was also reflected on for

Dolabella's extravagance, Amantius's covetousness, Antony's

debauchery, and Corfinius's profuseness, who pulled down

Pompey's house, and rebuilt it, as not magnificent enough; for

the Romans were much displeased with all these.  But Caesar, for

the prosecution of his own scheme of government, though he knew

their characters and disapproved them, was forced to make use of

those who would serve him.

After the battle of Pharsalia, Cato and Scipio fled into Africa,

and there, with the assistance of king Juba, got together a

considerable force, which Caesar resolved to engage.  He,

accordingly, passed into Sicily about the winter-solstice, and

to remove from his officers' minds all hopes of delay there,

encamped by the sea-shore, and as soon as ever he had a fair

wind, put to sea with three thousand foot and a few horse.  When

he had landed them, he went back secretly, under some

apprehensions for the larger part of his army, but met them upon

the sea, and brought them all to the same camp.  There he was

informed that the enemies relied much upon an ancient oracle,

that the family of the Scipios should be always victorious in

Africa.  There was in his army a man, otherwise mean and

contemptible, but of the house of the Africani, and his name

Scipio Sallutio.  This man Caesar, (whether in raillery, to

ridicule Scipio, who commended the enemy, or seriously to bring

over the omen to his side, it were hard to say,) put at the head

of his troops, as if he were general, in all the frequent

battles which he was compelled to fight.  For he was in such

want both of victualing for his men, and forage for his horses,

that he was forced to feed the horses with sea-weed, which he

washed thoroughly to take off its saltiness, and mixed with a

little grass, to give it a more agreeable taste.  The Numidians,

in great numbers, and well horsed, whenever he went, came up and

commanded the country.  Caesar's cavalry being one day

unemployed, diverted themselves with seeing an African, who

entertained them with dancing and at the same time playing upon

the pipe to admiration.  They were so taken with this, that they

alighted, and gave their horses to some boys, when on a sudden

the enemy surrounded them, killed some, pursued the rest, and

fell in with them into their camp; and had not Caesar himself

and Asinius Pollio come to their assistance, and put a stop to

their flight, the war had been then at an end.  In another

engagement, also, the enemy had again the better, when Caesar,

it is said, seized a standard-bearer, who was running away, by

the neck, and forcing him to face about, said, "Look, that is

the way to the enemy."

Scipio, flushed with this success at first, had a mind to come to

one decisive action.  He therefore left Afranius and Juba in two

distinct bodies not far distant, and marched himself towards

Thapsus, where he proceeded to build a fortified camp above a

lake, to serve as a center-point for their operations, and also

as a place of refuge.  Whilst Scipio was thus employed, Caesar

with incredible dispatch made his way through thick woods, and a

country supposed to be impassable, cut off one party of the

enemy, and attacked another in the front.  Having routed these,

he followed up his opportunity and the current of his good

fortune, and on the first onset carried Afranius's camp, and

ravaged that of the Numidians, Juba, their king, being glad to

save himself by flight; so that in a small part of a single day

he made himself master of three camps, and killed fifty thousand

of the enemy, with the loss only of fifty of his own men.  This

is the account some give of that fight.  Others say, he was not

in the action, but that he was taken with his usual distemper

just as he was setting his army in order.  He perceived the

approaches of it, and before it had too far disordered his

senses, when he was already beginning to shake under its

influence, withdrew into a neighboring fort, where he reposed

himself.  Of the men of consular and praetorian dignity that

were taken after the fight, several Caesar put to death, others

anticipated him by killing themselves.

Cato had undertaken to defend Utica, and for that reason was not

in the battle.  The desire which Caesar had to take him alive,

made him hasten thither; and upon the intelligence that he had

dispatched himself, he was much discomposed, for what reason is

not so well agreed.  He certainly said, "Cato, I must grudge you

your death, as you grudged me the honor of saving your life."

Yet the discourse he wrote against Cato after his death, is no

great sign of his kindness, or that he was inclined to be

reconciled to him.  For how is it probable that he would have

been tender of his life, when he was so bitter against his

memory?  But from his clemency to Cicero, Brutus, and many

others who fought against him, it may be divined that Caesar's

book was not written so much out of animosity to Cato, as in his

own vindication.  Cicero had written an encomium upon Cato, and

called it by his name.  A composition by so great a master upon

so excellent a subject, was sure to be in everyone's hands.

This touched Caesar, who looked upon a panegyric on his enemy,

as no better than an invective against himself; and therefore he

made in his Anti-Cato, a collection of whatever could be said in

his derogation.  The two compositions, like Cato and Caesar

themselves, have each of them their several admirers.

Caesar, upon his return to Rome, did not omit to pronounce

before the people a magnificent account of his victory, telling

them that he had subdued a country which would supply the public

every year with two hundred thousand attic bushels of corn, and

three million pounds weight of oil.  He then led three triumphs

for Egypt, Pontus, and Africa, the last for the victory over,

not Scipio, but king Juba, as it was professed, whose little son

was then carried in the triumph, the happiest captive that ever

was, who of a barbarian Numidian, came by this means to obtain a

place among the most learned historians of Greece.  After the

triumphs, he distributed rewards to his soldiers, and treated

the people with feasting and shows.  He entertained the whole

people together at one feast, where twenty-two thousand dining

couches were laid out; and he made a display of gladiators, and

of battles by sea, in honor, as he said, of his daughter Julia,

though she had been long since dead.  When these shows were

over, an account was taken of the people, who from three hundred

and twenty thousand, were now reduced to one hundred and fifty

thousand.  So great a waste had the civil war made in Rome

alone, not to mention what the other parts of Italy and the

provinces suffered.

He was now chosen a fourth time consul, and went into Spain

against Pompey's sons.  They were but young, yet had gathered

together a very numerous army, and showed they had courage and

conduct to command it, so that Caesar was in extreme danger.

The great battle was near the town of Munda, in which Caesar

seeing his men hard pressed, and making but a weak resistance,

ran through the ranks among the soldiers, and crying out, asked

them whether they were not ashamed to deliver him into the hands

of boys?  At last, with great difficulty, and the best efforts

he could make, he forced back the enemy, killing thirty thousand

of them, though with the loss of one thousand of his best men.

When he came back from the fight, he told his friends that he

had often fought for victory, but this was the first time that

he had ever fought for life.  This battle was won on the feast

of Bacchus, the very day in which Pompey, four years before.

had set out for the war.  The younger of Pompey's sons escaped;

but Didius, some days after the fight, brought the head of the

elder to Caesar.  This was the last war he was engaged in.  The

triumph which he celebrated for this victory, displeased the

Romans beyond any thing.  For he had not defeated foreign

generals, or barbarian kings, but had destroyed the children and

family of one of the greatest men of Rome, though unfortunate;

and it did not look well to lead a procession in celebration of

the calamities of his country, and to rejoice in those things

for which no other apology could be made either to gods or men,

than their being absolutely necessary.  Besides that, hitherto

he had never sent letters or messengers to announce any victory

over his fellow-citizens, but had seemed rather to be ashamed of

the action, than to expect honor from it.

Nevertheless his countrymen, conceding all to his fortune, and

accepting the bit, in the hope that the government of a single

person would give them time to breathe after so many civil wars

and calamities, made him dictator for life.  This was indeed a

tyranny avowed, since his power now was not only absolute, but

perpetual too.  Cicero made the first proposals to the senate

for conferring honors upon him, which might in some sort be said

not to exceed the limits of ordinary human moderation.  But

others, striving which should deserve most, carried them so

excessively high, that they made Caesar odious to the most

indifferent and moderate sort of men, by the pretension and the

extravagance of the titles which they decreed him.  His enemies,

too, are thought to have had some share in this, as well as his

flatterers.  It gave them advantage against him, and would be

their justification for any attempt they should make upon him;

for since the civil wars were ended, he had nothing else that he

could be charged with.  And they had good reason to decree a

temple to Clemency, in token of their thanks for the mild use he

made of his victory.  For he not only pardoned many of those who

fought against him, but, further, to some gave honors and

offices; as particularly to Brutus and Cassius, who both of them

were praetors.  Pompey's images that were thrown down, he set up

again, upon which Cicero also said that by raising Pompey's

statues he had fixed his own.  When his friends advised him to

have a guard, and several offered their service, he would not

hear of it; but said it was better to suffer death once, than

always to live in fear of it.  He looked upon the affections of

the people to be the best and surest guard, and entertained them

again with public feasting, and general distributions of corn;

and to gratify his army, he sent out colonies to several places,

of which the most remarkable were Carthage and Corinth; which as

before they had been ruined at the same time, so now were

restored and repeopled together.

As for the men of high rank, he promised to some of them future

consulships and praetorships, some he consoled with other

offices and honors, and to all held out hopes of favor by the

solicitude he showed to rule with the general good-will;

insomuch that upon the death of Maximus one day before his

consulship was ended, he made Caninius Revilius consul for that

day.  And when many went to pay the usual compliments and

attentions to the new consul, "Let us make haste," said Cicero,

"lest the man be gone out of his office before we come."

Caesar was born to do great things, and had a passion after

honor, and the many noble exploits he had done did not now serve

as an inducement to him to sit still and reap the fruit of his

past labors, but were incentives and encouragments to go on, and

raised in him ideas of still greater actions, and a desire of

new glory, as if the present were all spent.  It was in fact a

sort of emulous struggle with himself, as it had been with

another, how he might outdo his past actions by his future.  In

pursuit of these thoughts, he resolved to make war upon the

Parthians, and when he had subdued them, to pass through

Hyrcania; thence to march along by the Caspian Sea to Mount

Caucasus, and so on about Pontus, till he came into Scythia;

then to overrun all the countries bordering upon Germany, and

Germany itself; and so to return through Gaul into Italy, after

completing the whole circle of his intended empire, and bounding

it on every side by the ocean.  While preparations were making

for this expedition, he proposed to dig through the isthmus on

which Corinth stands; and appointed Anienus to superintend the

work.  He had also a design of diverting the Tiber, and carrying

it by a deep channel directly from Rome to Circeii, and so into

the sea near Tarracina, that there might be a safe and easy

passage for all merchants who traded to Rome.  Besides this, he

intended to drain all the marshes by Pomentium and Setia, and

gain ground enough from the water to employ many thousands of

men in tillage.  He proposed further to make great mounds on the

shore nearest Rome, to hinder the sea from breaking in upon the

land, to clear the coast at Ostia of all the hidden rocks and

shoals that made it unsafe for shipping, and to form ports and

harbors fit to receive the large number of vessels that would

frequent them.

These things were designed without being carried into effect;

but his reformation of the calendar, in order to rectify the

irregularity of time, was not only projected with great

scientific ingenuity, but was brought to its completion, and

proved of very great use.  For it was not only in ancient times

that the Romans had wanted a certain rule to make the

revolutions of their months fall in with the course of the year,

so that their festivals and solemn days for sacrifice were

removed by little and little, till at last they came to be kept

at seasons quite the contrary to what was at first intended, but

even at this time the people had no way of computing the solar

year; only the priests could say the time, and they, at their

pleasure, without giving any notice, slipped in the intercalary

month, which they called Mercedonius.  Numa was the first who

put in this month, but his expedient was but a poor one and

quite inadequate to correct all the errors that arose in the

returns of the annual cycles, as we have shown in his life.

Caesar called in the best philosophers and mathematicians of his

time to settle the point, and out of the systems he had before

him, formed a new and more exact method of correcting the

calendar, which the Romans use to this day, and seem to succeed

better than any nation in avoiding the errors occasioned by the

inequality of the cycles.  Yet even this gave offense to those

who looked with an evil eye on his position, and felt oppressed

by his power.  Cicero, the orator, when someone in his company

chanced to say, the next morning Lyra would rise, replied, "Yes,

in accordance with the edict," as if even this were a matter of

compulsion.

But that which brought upon him the most apparent and mortal

hatred, was his desire of being king; which gave the common

people the first occasion to quarrel with him, and proved the

most specious pretense to those who had been his secret enemies

all along.  Those, who would have procured him that title, gave

it out, that it was foretold in the Sybils' books that the

Romans should conquer the Parthians when they fought against

them under the conduct of a king, but not before.  And one day,

as Caesar was coming down from Alba to Rome, some were so bold

as to salute him by the name of king; but he finding the people

disrelish it, seemed to resent it himself, and said his name was

Caesar, not king.  Upon this, there was a general silence, and

he passed on looking not very well pleased or contented.

Another time, when the senate had conferred on him some

extravagant honors, he chanced to receive the message as he was

sitting on the rostra, where, though the consuls and praetors

themselves waited on him, attended by the whole body of the

senate, he did not rise, but behaved himself to them as if they

had been private men, and told them his honors wanted rather to

be retrenched than increased.  This treatment offended not only

the senate, but the commonalty too, as if they thought the

affront upon the senate equally reflected upon the whole

republic; so that all who could decently leave him went off,

looking much discomposed.  Caesar, perceiving the false step he

had made, immediately retired home; and laying his throat bare,

told his friends that he was ready to offer this to anyone who

would give the stroke.  But afterwards he made the malady from

which he suffered, the excuse for his sitting, saying that those

who are attacked by it, lose their presence of mind, if they

talk much standing; that they presently grow giddy, fall into

convulsions, and quite lose their reason.  But this was not the

reality, for he would willingly have stood up to the senate, had

not Cornelius Balbus, one of his friends, or rather flatterers,

hindered him.  "Will you not remember," said he, "you are

Caesar, and claim the honor which is due to your merit?"

He gave a fresh occasion of resentment by his affront to the

tribunes.  The Lupercalia were then celebrated, a feast at the

first institution belonging, as some writers say, to the

shepherds, and having some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea.

Many young noblemen and magistrates run up and down the city

with their upper garments off, striking all they meet with

thongs of hide, by way of sport; and many women, even of the

highest rank, place themselves in the way, and hold out their

hands to the lash, as boys in a school do to the master, out of

a belief that it procures an easy labor to those who are with

child, and makes those conceive who are barren.  Caesar, dressed

in a triumphal robe, seated himself in a golden chair at the

rostra, to view this ceremony.  Antony, as consul, was one of

those who ran this course, and when he came into the forum, and

the people made way for him, he went up and reached to Caesar a

diadem wreathed with laurel.  Upon this, there was a shout, but

only a slight one, made by the few who were planted there for

that purpose; but when Caesar refused it, there was universal

applause.  Upon the second offer, very few, and upon the second

refusal, all again applauded.  Caesar finding it would not take,

rose up, and ordered the crown to be carried into the capitol.

Caesar's statues were afterwards found with royal diadems on

their heads.  Flavius and Marullus, two tribunes of the people,

went presently and pulled them off, and having apprehended those

who first saluted Caesar as king, committed them to prison.  The

people followed them with acclamations, and called them by the

name of Brutus, because Brutus was the first who ended the

succession of kings, and transferred the power which before was

lodged in one man into the hands of the senate and people.

Caesar so far resented this, that he displaced Marullus and

Flavius; and in urging his charges against them, at the same

time ridiculed the people, by himself giving the men more than

once the names of Bruti, and Cumaei.

This made the multitude turn their thoughts to Marcus Brutus,

who, by his father's side, was thought to be descended from that

first Brutus, and by his mother's side from the Servilii,

another noble family, being besides nephew and son-in-law to

Cato.  But the honors and favors he had received from Caesar,

took off the edge from the desires he might himself have felt

for overthrowing the new monarchy.  For he had not only been

pardoned himself after Pompey's defeat at Pharsalia, and had

procured the same grace for many of his friends, but was one in

whom Caesar had a particular confidence.  He had at that time

the most honorable praetorship of the year, and was named for

the consulship four years after, being preferred before Cassius,

his competitor.  Upon the question as to the choice, Caesar, it

is related, said that Cassius had the fairer pretensions, but

that he could not pass by Brutus.  Nor would he afterwards

listen to some who spoke against Brutus, when the conspiracy

against him was already afoot, but laying his hand on his body,

said to the informers, "Brutus will wait for this skin of mine,"

intimating that he was worthy to bear rule on account of his

virtue, but would not be base and ungrateful to gain it.  Those

who desired a change, and looked on him as the only, or at least

the most proper, person to effect it, did not venture to speak

with him; but in the night time laid papers about his chair of

state, where he used to sit and determine causes, with such

sentences in them as, "You are asleep, Brutus," "You are no

longer Brutus."  Cassius, when he perceived his ambition a

little raised upon this, was more instant than before to work

him yet further, having himself a private grudge against Caesar,

for some reasons that we have mentioned in the Life of Brutus.

Nor was Caesar without suspicions of him, and said once to his

friends, "What do you think Cassius is aiming at?  I don't like

him, he looks so pale."  And when it was told him that Antony

and Dolabella were in a plot against him, he said he did not

fear such fat, luxurious men, but rather the pale, lean fellows,

meaning Cassius and Brutus.

Fate, however, is to all appearance more unavoidable than

unexpected.  For many strange prodigies and apparitions are said

to have been observed shortly before the event.  As to the

lights in the heavens, the noises heard in the night, and the

wild birds which perched in the forum, these are not perhaps

worth taking notice of in so great a case as this.  Strabo, the

philosopher, tells us that a number of men were seen, looking as

if they were heated through with fire, contending with each

other; that a quantity of flame issued from the hand of a

soldier's servant, so that they who saw it thought he must be

burnt, but that after all he had no hurt.  As Caesar was

sacrificing, the victim's heart was missing, a very bad omen,

because no living creature can subsist without a heart.  One

finds it also related by many, that a soothsayer bade him

prepare for some great danger on the ides of March.  When the

day was come, Caesar, as he went to the senate, met this

soothsayer, and said to him by way of raillery, "The ides of

March are come;" who answered him calmly, "Yes, they are come,

but they are not past."  The day before this assassination, he

supped with Marcus Lepidus; and as he was signing some letters,

according to his custom, as he reclined at table, there arose a

question what sort of death was the best.  At which he

immediately, before anyone could speak, said, "A sudden one."

After this, as he was in bed with his wife, all the doors and

windows of the house flew open together; he was startled at the

noise, and the light which broke into the room, and sat up in

his bed, where by the moonshine he perceived Calpurnia fast

asleep, but heard her utter in her dream some indistinct words

and inarticulate groans.  She fancied at that time she was

weeping over Caesar, and holding him butchered in her arms.

Others say this was not her dream, but that she dreamed that a

pinnacle which the senate, as Livy relates, had ordered to be

raised on Caesar's house by way of ornament and grandeur, was

tumbling down, which was the occasion of her tears and

ejaculations.  When it was day, she begged of Caesar, if it were

possible, not to stir out, but to adjourn the senate to another

time; and if he slighted her dreams, that he would be pleased to

consult his fate by sacrifices, and other kinds of divination.

Nor was he himself without some suspicion and fears; for he

never before discovered any womanish superstition in Calpurnia,

whom he now saw in such great alarm.  Upon the report which the

priests made to him, that they had killed several sacrifices,

and still found them inauspicious, he resolved to send Antony to

dismiss the senate.

In this juncture, Decimus Brutus, surnamed Albinus, one whom

Caesar had such confidence in that he made him his second heir,

who nevertheless was engaged in the conspiracy with the other

Brutus and Cassius, fearing lest if Caesar should put off the

senate to another day, the business might get wind, spoke

scoffingly and in mockery of the diviners, and blamed Caesar for

giving the senate so fair an occasion of saying he had put a

slight upon them, for that they were met upon his summons, and

were ready to vote unanimously, that he should be declared king

of all the provinces out of Italy, and might wear a diadem in

any other place but Italy, by sea or land.  If anyone should be

sent to tell them they might break up for the present, and meet

again when Calpurnia should chance to have better dreams, what

would his enemies say?  Or who would with any patience hear his

friends, if they should presume to defend his government as not

arbitrary and tyrannical?  But if he was possessed so far as to

think this day unfortunate, yet it were more decent to go

himself to the senate, and to adjourn it in his own person.

Brutus, as he spoke these words, took Caesar by the hand, and

conducted him forth.  He was not gone far from the door, when a

servant of some other person's made towards him, but not being

able to come up to him, on account of the crowd of those who

pressed about him, he made his way into the house, and committed

himself to Calpurnia, begging of her to secure him till Caesar

returned, because he had matters of great importance to

communicate to him.

Artemidorus, a Cnidian, a teacher of Greek logic, and by that

means so far acquainted with Brutus and his friends as to have

got into the secret, brought Caesar in a small written memorial,

the heads of what he had to depose.  He had observed that

Caesar, as he received any papers, presently gave them to the

servants who attended on him; and therefore came as near to him

as he could, and said, "Read this, Caesar, alone, and quickly,

for it contains matter of great importance which nearly concerns

you."  Caesar received it, and tried several times to read it,

but was still hindered by the crowd of those who came to speak

to him.  However, he kept it in his hand by itself till he came

into the senate.  Some say it was another who gave Caesar this

note, and that Artemidorus could not get to him, being all along

kept off by the crowd.

All these things might happen by chance.  But the place which

was destined for the scene of this murder, in which the senate

met that day, was the same in which Pompey's statue stood, and

was one of the edifices which Pompey had raised and dedicated

with his theater to the use of the public, plainly showing that

there was something of a supernatural influence which guided the

action, and ordered it to that particular place.  Cassius, just

before the act, is said to have looked towards Pompey's statue,

and silently implored his assistance, though he had been

inclined to the doctrines of Epicurus.  But this occasion, and

the instant danger, carried him away out of all his reasonings,

and filled him for the time with a sort of inspiration.  As for

Antony, who was firm to Caesar, and a strong man, Brutus Albinus

kept him outside the house, and delayed him with a long

conversation contrived on purpose.  When Caesar entered, the

senate stood up to show their respect to him, and of Brutus's

confederates, some came about his chair and stood behind it,

others met him, pretending to add their petitions to those of

Tillius Cimber, in behalf of his brother, who was in exile; and

they followed him with their joint supplications till he came to

his seat.  When he was sat down, he refused to comply with their

requests, and upon their urging him further, began to reproach

them severally for their importunities, when Tillius, laying

hold of his robe with both his hands, pulled it down from his

neck, which was the signal for the assault.  Casca gave him the

first cut, in the neck, which was not mortal nor dangerous, as

coming from one who at the beginning of such a bold action was

probably very much disturbed.  Caesar immediately turned about,

and laid his hand upon the dagger and kept hold of it.  And both

of them at the same time cried out, he that received the blow,

in Latin, "Vile Casca, what does this mean?" and he that gave

it, in Greek, to his brother, "Brother, help!"  Upon this first

onset, those who were not privy to the design were astonished

and their horror and amazement at what they saw were so great,

that they durst not fly nor assist Caesar, nor so much as speak

a word.  But those who came prepared for the business enclosed

him on every side, with their naked daggers in their hands.

Which way soever he turned, he met with blows, and saw their

swords leveled at his face and eyes, and was encompassed, like a

wild beast in the toils, on every side.  For it had been agreed

they should each of them make a thrust at him, and flesh

themselves with his blood; for which reason Brutus also gave him

one stab in the groin.  Some say that he fought and resisted all

the rest, shifting his body to avoid the blows, and calling out

for help, but that when he saw Brutus's sword drawn, he covered

his face with his robe and submitted, letting himself fall,

whether it were by chance, or that he was pushed in that

direction by his murderers, at the foot of the pedestal on which

Pompey's statue stood, and which was thus wetted with his blood.

So that Pompey himself seemed to have presided, as it were, over

the revenge done upon his adversary, who lay here at his feet,

and breathed out his soul through his multitude of wounds, for

they say he received three and twenty.  And the conspirators

themselves were many of them wounded by each other, whilst they

all leveled their blows at the same person.

When Caesar was dispatched, Brutus stood forth to give a reason

for what they had done, but the senate would not hear him, but

flew out of doors in all haste, and filled the people with so

much alarm and distraction, that some shut up their houses,

others left their counters and shops.  All ran one way or the

other, some to the place to see the sad spectacle, others back

again after they had seen it.  Antony and Lepidus, Caesar's

most faithful friends, got off privately, and hid themselves in

some friends' houses.  Brutus and his followers, being yet hot

from the deed, marched in a body from the senate-house to the

capitol with their drawn swords, not like persons who thought of

escaping, but with an air of confidence and assurance, and as

they went along, called to the people to resume their liberty,

and invited the company of any more distinguished people whom

they met.  And some of these joined the procession and went up

along with them, as if they also had been of the conspiracy, and

could claim a share in the honor of what had been done.  As, for

example, Caius Octavius and Lentulus Spinther, who suffered

afterwards for their vanity, being taken off by Antony and the

young Caesar, and lost the honor they desired, as well as their

lives, which it cost them, since no one believed they had any

share in the action.  For neither did those who punished them

profess to revenge the fact, but the ill-will.  The day after,

Brutus with the rest came down from the capitol, and made a

speech to the people, who listened without expressing either any

pleasure or resentment, but showed by their silence that they

pitied Caesar, and respected Brutus.  The senate passed acts of

oblivion for what was past, and took measures to reconcile all

parties.  They ordered that Caesar should be worshipped as a

divinity, and nothing, even of the slightest consequence, should

be revoked, which he had enacted during his government.  At the

same time they gave Brutus and his followers the command of

provinces, and other considerable posts.  So that all people now

thought things were well settled, and brought to the happiest

adjustment.

But when Caesar's will was opened, and it was found that he had

left a considerable legacy to each one of the Roman citizens,

and when his body was seen carried through the market-place all

mangled with wounds, the multitude could no longer contain

themselves within the bounds of tranquillity and order, but

heaped together a pile of benches, bars, and tables, which they

placed the corpse on, and setting fire to it, burnt it on them.

Then they took brands from the pile, and ran some to fire the

houses of the conspirators, others up and down the city, to find

out the men and tear them to pieces, but met, however, with none

of them, they having taken effectual care to secure themselves.

One Cinna, a friend of Caesar's, chanced the night before to

have an odd dream.  He fancied that Caesar invited him to

supper, and that upon his refusal to go with him, Caesar took

him by the hand and forced him, though he hung back.  Upon

hearing the report that Caesar's body was burning in the

market-place, he got up and went thither, out of respect to his

memory, though his dream gave him some ill apprehensions, and

though he was suffering from a fever.  One of the crowd who saw

him there, asked another who that was, and having learned his

name, told it to his next neighbor.  It presently passed for a

certainty that he was one of Caesar's murderers, as, indeed,

there was another Cinna, a conspirator, and they, taking this to

be the man, immediately seized him, and tore him limb from limb

upon the spot.

Brutus and Cassius, frightened at this, within a few days

retired out of the city.  What they afterwards did and suffered,

and how they died, is written in the Life of Brutus.  Caesar

died in his fifty-sixth year, not having survived Pompey above

four years.  That empire and power which he had pursued through

the whole course of his life with so much hazard, he did at last

with much difficulty compass, but reaped no other fruits from it

than the empty name and invidious glory.  But the great genius

which attended him through his lifetime, even after his death

remained as the avenger of his murder, pursuing through every

sea and land all those who were concerned in it, and suffering

none to escape, but reaching all who in any sort or kind were

either actually engaged in the fact, or by their counsels any

way promoted it.

The most remarkable of mere human coincidences was that which

befell Cassius, who, when he was defeated at Philippi, killed

himself with the same dagger which he had made use of against

Caesar.  The most signal preternatural appearances were the

great comet, which shone very bright for seven nights after

Caesar's death, and then disappeared, and the dimness of the

sun, whose orb continued pale and dull for the whole of that

year, never showing its ordinary radiance at its rising, and

giving but a weak and feeble heat.  The air consequently was

damp and gross, for want of stronger rays to open and rarify it.

The fruits, for that reason, never properly ripened, and began

to wither and fall off for want of heat, before they were fully

formed.  But above all, the phantom which appeared to Brutus

showed the murder was not pleasing to the gods.  The story of it

is this.

Brutus being to pass his army from Abydos to the continent on

the other side, laid himself down one night, as he used to do,

in his tent, and was not asleep, but thinking of his affairs,

and what events he might expect.  For he is related to have been

the least inclined to sleep of all men who have commanded

armies, and to have had the greatest natural capacity for

continuing awake, and employing himself without need of rest.

He thought he heard a noise at the door of his tent, and looking

that way, by the light of his lamp, which was almost out, saw a

terrible figure, like that of a man, but of unusual stature and

severe countenance.  He was somewhat frightened at first, but

seeing it neither did nor spoke anything to him, only stood

silently by his bed-side, he asked who it was.  The specter

answered him, "Thy evil genius, Brutus, thou shalt see me at

Philippi."  Brutus answered courageously, "Well, I shall see

you," and immediately the appearance vanished.  When the time

was come, he drew up his army near Philippi against Antony and

Caesar, and in the first battle won the day, routed the enemy,

and plundered Caesar's camp.  The night before the second

battle, the same phantom appeared to him again, but spoke not a

word.  He presently understood his destiny was at hand, and

exposed himself to all the danger of the battle.  Yet he did not

die in the fight, but seeing his men defeated, got up to the top

of a rock, and there presenting his sword to his naked breast,

and assisted, as they say, by a friend, who helped him to give

the thrust, met his death.

PHOCION

Demades, the orator, when in the height of the power which he

obtained at Athens by advising the state in the interest of

Antipater and the Macedonians, being necessitated to write and

speak many things below the dignity, and contrary to the

character, of the city, was wont to excuse himself by saying he

steered only the shipwrecks of the commonwealth.  This hardy

saying of his might have some appearance of truth, if applied to

Phocion's government.  For Demades indeed was himself the mere

wreck of his country, living and ruling so dissolutely, that

Antipater took occasion to say of him, when he was now grown old,

that he was like a sacrificed beast, all consumed except the

tongue and the belly.  But Phocion's was a real virtue, only

overmatched in the unequal contest with an adverse time, and

rendered by the ill fortunes of Greece inglorious and obscure.  We

must not, indeed, allow ourselves to concur with Sophocles in so

far diminishing the force of virtue as to say that,

When fortune fails, the sense we had before

Deserts us also, and is ours no more.

Yet thus much, indeed, must be allowed to happen in the conflicts

between good men and ill fortune, that instead of due returns of

honor and gratitude, obloquy and unjust surmises may often

prevail, to weaken, in a considerable degree, the credit of their

virtue.

It is commonly said that public bodies are most insulting and

contumelious to a good man, when they are puffed up with

prosperity and success.  But the contrary often happens;

afflictions and public calamities naturally embittering and

souring the minds and tempers of men, and disposing them to such

peevishness and irritability, that hardly any word or sentiment of

common vigor can be addressed to them, but they will be apt to

take offense.  He that remonstrates with them on their errors, is

presumed to be insulting over their misfortunes, and any free

spoken expostulation is construed into contempt.  Honey itself is

searching in sore and ulcerated parts; and the wisest and most

judicious counsels prove provoking to distempered minds, unless

offered with those soothing and compliant approaches which made

the poet, for instance, characterize agreeable things in general,

by a word expressive of a grateful and easy touch, exciting

nothing of offense or resistance.  Inflamed eyes require a retreat

into dusky places, amongst colors of the deepest shades, and are

unable to endure the brilliancy of light.  So fares it in the body

politic, in times of distress and humiliation; a certain

sensitiveness and soreness of humor prevail, with a weak

incapacity of enduring any free and open advice, even when the

necessity of affairs most requires such plain-dealing, and when

the consequences of any single error may be beyond retrieving.  At

such times the conduct of public affairs is on all hands most

hazardous.  Those who humor the people are swallowed up in the

common ruin; those who endeavor to lead them aright, perish the

first in their attempt.

Astronomers tell us, the sun's motion is neither exactly parallel

with that of the heavens in general, nor yet directly and

diametrically opposite, but describing an oblique line, with

insensible declination he steers his course in such a gentle, easy

curve, as to dispense his light and influence, in his annual

revolution, at several seasons, in just proportions to the whole

creation.  So it happens in political affairs; if the motions of

rulers be constantly opposite and cross to the tempers and

inclination of the people, they will be resented as arbitrary and

harsh; as, on the other side, too much deference, or

encouragement, as too often it has been, to popular faults and

errors, is full of danger and ruinous consequences.  But where

concession is the response to willing obedience, and a statesman

gratifies his people, that he may the more imperatively recall

them to a sense of the common interest, then, indeed, human

beings, who are ready enough to serve well and submit to much, if

they are not always ordered about and roughly handled, like

slaves, may be said to be guided and governed upon the method that

leads to safety.  Though it must be confessed, it is a nice point

and extremely difficult, so to temper this lenity as to preserve

the authority of the government.  But if such a blessed mixture

and temperament may be obtained, it seems to be of all concords

and harmonies the most concordant and most harmonious.  For thus

we are taught even God governs the world, not by irresistible

force, but persuasive argument and reason, controlling it into

compliance with his eternal purposes.

Cato the younger is a similar instance.  His manners were little

agreeable or acceptable to the people, and he received very

slender marks of their favor; witness his repulse when he sued for

the consulship, which he lost, as Cicero says, for acting rather

like a citizen in Plato's commonwealth, than among the dregs of

Romulus's posterity, the same thing happening to him, in my

opinion, as we observe in fruits ripe before their season, which

we rather take pleasure in looking at and admiring, than actually

use; so much was his old-fashioned virtue out of the present mode,

among the depraved customs which time and luxury had introduced,

that it appeared indeed remarkable and wonderful, but was too

great and too good to suit the present exigencies, being so out of

all proportion to the times.  Yet his circumstances were not

altogether like Phocion's, who came to the helm when the ship of

the state was just upon sinking.  Cato's time was, indeed, stormy

and tempestuous, yet so as he was able to assist in managing the

sails, and lend his helping hand to those who, which he was not

allowed to do, commanded at the helm.  Others were to blame for

the result; yet his courage and virtue made it in spite of all a

hard task for fortune to ruin the commonwealth, and it was only

with long time and effort and by slow degrees, when he himself had

all but succeeded in averting it, that the catastrophe was at last

effected.

Phocion and he may be well compared together, not for any mere

general resemblances, as though we should say, both were good men

and great statesmen.  For assuredly there is difference enough among

virtues of the same denomination, as between the bravery of

Alcibiades and that of Epaminondas, the prudence of Themistocles

and that of Aristides, the justice of Numa and that of Agesilaus.

But these men's virtues, even looking to the most minute points of

difference, bear the same color, stamp, and character impressed

upon them, so as not to be distinguishable.  The mixture is still

made in the same exact proportions, whether we look at the

combination to be found in them both of lenity on the one hand,

with austerity on the other; their boldness upon some occasions,

and caution on others; their extreme solicitude for the public,

and perfect neglect of themselves; their fixed and immovable bent

to all virtuous and honest actions, accompanied with an extreme

tenderness and scrupulosity as to doing anything which might

appear mean or unworthy; so that we should need a very nice and

subtle logic of discrimination to detect and establish the

distinctions between them.

As to Cato's extraction, it is confessed by all to have been

illustrious, as will be said hereafter, nor was Phocion's, I feel

assured, obscure or ignoble.  For had he been the son of a turner,

as Idomeneus reports, it had certainly not been forgotten to his

disparagement by Glaucippus, the son of Hyperides, when heaping up

a thousand spiteful things to say against him.  Nor, indeed, had

it been possible for him, in such circumstances, to have had such

a liberal breeding and education in his youth, as to be first

Plato's, and afterwards Xenocrates's scholar in the Academy, and

to have devoted himself from the first to the pursuit of the

noblest studies and practices.  His countenance was so composed,

that scarcely was he ever seen by any Athenian either laughing, or

in tears.  He was rarely known, so Duris has recorded, to appear

in the public baths, or was observed with his hand exposed outside

his cloak, when he wore one.  Abroad, and in the camp, he was so

hardy in going always thin clad and barefoot, except in a time of

excessive and intolerable cold, that the soldiers used to say in

merriment, that it was like to be a hard winter when Phocion wore

his coat.

Although he was most gentle and humane in his disposition, his

aspect was stern and forbidding, so that he was seldom accosted

alone by any who were not intimate with him.  When Chares once

made some remark on his frowning looks, and the Athenians laughed

at the jest.  "My sullenness," said Phocion, "never yet made any

of you sad, but these men's jollities have given you sorrow

enough."  In like manner Phocion's language, also, was full of

instruction, abounding in happy maxims and wise thoughts, but

admitted no embellishment to its austere and commanding brevity.

Zeno said a philosopher should never speak till his words had been

steeped in meaning; and such, it may be said, were Phocion's,

crowding the greatest amount of significance into the smallest

allowance of space.  And to this, probably, Polyeuctus, the

Sphettian, referred, when he said that Demosthenes was, indeed,

the best orator of his time, but Phocion the most powerful

speaker.  His oratory, like small coin of great value, was to be

estimated, not by its bulk, but its intrinsic worth.  He was once

observed, it is said, when the theater was filling with the

audience, to walk musing alone behind the scenes, which one of his

friends taking notice of, said, "Phocion, you seem to be

thoughtful."  "Yes," replied he, "I am considering how I may

shorten what I am going to say to the Athenians."  Even

Demosthenes himself, who used to despise the rest of the

haranguers, when Phocion stood up, was wont to say quietly to

those about him, "Here is the pruning-knife of my periods."  This

however, might refer, perhaps, not so much to his eloquence, as to

the influence of his character, since not only a word, but even a

nod from a person who is esteemed, is of more force than a

thousand arguments or studied sentences from others.

In his youth he followed Chabrias, the general, from whom he

gained many lessons in military knowledge, and in return did

something to correct his unequal and capricious humor.  For

whereas at other times Chabrias was heavy and phlegmatic, in the

heat of battle he used to be so fired and transported, that he

threw himself headlong into danger beyond the forwardest, which,

indeed, in the end, cost him his life in the island of Chios, he

having pressed his own ship foremost to force a landing.  But

Phocion, being a man of temper as well as courage, had the

dexterity at some times to rouse the general, when in his

procrastinating mood, to action, and at others to moderate and

cool the impetuousness of his unseasonable fury.  Upon which

account Chabrias, who was a good-natured, kindly-tempered man,

loved him much, and procured him commands and opportunities for

action, giving him means to make himself known in Greece, and

using his assistance in all his affairs of moment.  Particularly

the sea-fight at Naxos added not a little to Phocion's reputation,

when he had the left squadron committed to him by Chabrias, as in

this quarter the battle was sharply contested, and was decided by

a speedy victory.  And this being the first prosperous sea-battle

the city had engaged in with its own force since its captivity,

Chabrias won great popularity by it, and Phocion, also, got the

reputation of a good commander.  The victory was gained at the

time of the Great Mysteries, and Chabrias used to keep the

commemoration of it, by distributing wine among the Athenians,

yearly, on the sixteenth day of Boedromion.

After this, Chabrias sent Phocion to demand their quota of the

charges of the war from the islanders, and offered him a guard of

twenty ships.  Phocion told him, if he intended him to go against

them as enemies, that force was insignificant; if as to friends

and allies, one vessel was sufficient.  So he took his own single

galley, and having visited the cities, and treated with the

magistrates in an equitable and open manner, he brought back a

number of ships, sent by the confederates to Athens, to convey the

supplies.  Neither did his friendship and attention close with

Chabrias's life, but after his decease he carefully maintained it

to all that were related to him, and chiefly to his son Ctesippus,

whom he labored to bring to some good, and although he was a

stupid and intractable young fellow, always endeavored, so far as

in him lay, to correct and cover his faults and follies.  Once,

however, when the youngster was very impertinent and troublesome

to him in the camp, interrupting him with idle questions, and

putting forward his opinions and suggestions of how the war should

be conducted, he could not forbear exclaiming, "O Chabrias,

Chabrias, how grateful I show myself for your friendship, in

submitting to endure your son."

Upon looking into public matters, and the way in which they were

now conducted, he observed that the administration of affairs was

cut and parceled out, like so much land by allotment, between the

military men and the public speakers, so that neither these nor

those should interfere with the claims of the others.  As the one

were to address the assemblies, to draw up votes and prepare

motions, men, for example, like Eubulus, Aristophon, Demosthenes,

Lycurgus, and Hyperides, and were to push their interests here;

so, in the meantime, Diopithes, Menestheus, Leosthenes, and

Chares, were to make their profit by war and in military commands.

Phocion, on the other hand, was desirous to restore and carry out

the old system, more complete in itself, and more harmonious and

uniform, which prevailed in the times of Pericles, Aristides, and

Solon; when statesmen showed themselves, to use Archilochus's

words, —

Mars' and the Muses' friends alike designed,

To arts and arms indifferently inclined,

and the presiding goddess of his country was, he did not fail to

see, the patroness and protectress of both civil and military

wisdom.  With these views, while his advice at home was always for

peace and quietness, he nevertheless held the office of general

more frequently than any of the statesmen, not only of his own

times, but of those preceding, never, indeed, promoting or

encouraging military expeditions, yet never, on the other hand,

shunning or declining, when he was called upon by the public

voice.  Thus much is well known, that he was no less than

forty-five several times chosen general, he being never on any one

of those occasions present at the election, but having the

command, in his absence, by common suffrage, conferred on him, and

he sent for on purpose to undertake it.  Insomuch that it amazed

those who did not well consider, to see the people always prefer

Phocion, who was so far from humoring them or courting their

favor, that he always thwarted and opposed them.  But so it was,

as great men and princes are said to call in their flatterers when

dinner has been served, so the Athenians, upon slight occasions,

entertained and diverted themselves with their spruce speakers and

trim orators, but when it came to action, they were sober and

considerate enough to single out the austerest and wisest for

public employment, however much he might be opposed to their

wishes and sentiments.  This, indeed, he made no scruple to admit,

when the oracle from Delphi was read, which informed them that the

Athenians were all of one mind, a single dissentient only

excepted, frankly coming forward and declaring that they need look

no further; he was the man, there was no one but he who was

dissatisfied with everything they did.  And when once he gave his

opinion to the people, and was met with the general approbation

and applause of the assembly, turning to some of his friends, he

asked them, "Have I inadvertently said something foolish?"

Upon occasion of a public festivity, being solicited for his

contribution by the example of others, and the people pressing him

much, he bade them apply themselves to the wealthy; for his part

he should blush to make a present here, rather than a repayment

there, turning and, pointing to Callicles, the money-lender.

Being still clamored upon and importuned, he told them this tale.

A certain cowardly fellow setting out for the wars, hearing the

ravens croak in his passage, threw down his arms, resolving to

wait.  Presently he took them and ventured out again, but hearing

the same music, once more made a stop.  "For," said he, "you may

croak till you are tired, but you shall make no dinner upon me."

The Athenians urging him at an unseasonable time to lead them out

against the enemy, he peremptorily refused, and being upbraided by

them with cowardice and pusillanimity, he told them, "Just now, do

what you will, I shall not be brave; and do what I will, you will

not be cowards.  Nevertheless, we know well enough what we are."

And when again, in a time of great danger, the people were very

harsh upon him, demanding a strict account how the public money

had been employed, and the like, he bade them, "First, good

friends, make sure you are safe."  After a war, during which they

had been very tractable and timorous, when, upon peace being made,

they began again to be confident and overbearing, and to cry out

upon Phocion, as having lost them the honor of victory, to all

their clamor he made only this answer, "My friends, you are

fortunate in having a leader who knows you; otherwise, you had

long since been undone."

Having a controversy with the Boeotians about boundaries, which he

counseled them to decide by negotiation, they inclined to blows.

"You had better," said he, "carry on the contest with the weapons

in which you excel, (your tongues,) and not by war, in which you

are inferior."  Once, when he was addressing them, and they would

not hear him or let him go on, said he, "You may compel me to act

against my wishes, but you shall never force me to speak against

my judgment."  Among the many public speakers who opposed him,

Demosthenes, for example, once told him, "The Athenians, Phocion,

will kill you some day when they once are in a rage."  "And you,"

said he, "if they once are in their senses."  Polyeuctus, the

Sphettian, once on a hot day was urging war with Philip, and being

a corpulent man, and out of breath and in a great heat with

speaking, took numerous draughts of water as he went on.  "Here,

indeed," said Phocion, "is a fit man to lead us into a war!  What

think you he will do when he is carrying his corslet and his

shield to meet the enemy, if even here, delivering a prepared

speech to you has almost killed him with exhaustion?"  When

Lycurgus in the assembly made many reflections on his past

conduct, upbraiding him above all for having advised them to

deliver up the ten citizens whom Alexander had demanded, he

replied that he had been the author of much safe and wholesome

counsel, which had not been followed.

There was a man called Archibiades, nicknamed the Lacedaemonian,

who used to go about with a huge overgrown beard, wearing an old

threadbare cloak, and affecting a very stern countenance.  Phocion

once, when attacked in council by the rest, appealed to this man

for his support and testimony.  And when he got up and began to

speak on the popular side, putting his hand to his beard, "O

Archibiades," said he, "it is time you should shave."

Aristogiton, a common accuser, was a terrible man of war within

the assembly, always inflaming the people to battle, but when the

muster-roll came to be produced, he appeared limping on a crutch,

with a bandage on his leg; Phocion descried him afar off, coming

in, and cried out to the clerk, "Put down Aristogiton, too, as

lame and worthless."

So that it is a little wonderful, how a man so severe and harsh

upon all occasions should, notwithstanding, obtain the name of the

Good.  Yet, though difficult, it is not, I suppose, impossible for

men's tempers, any more than for wines, to be at the same time

harsh and agreeable to the taste; just as on the other hand many

that are sweet at the first taste, are found, on further use,

extremely disagreeable and very unwholesome.  Hyperides, we are

told, once said to the people, "Do not ask yourselves, men of

Athens, whether or not I am bitter, but whether or not I am paid

for being so," as though a covetous purpose were the only thing

that should make a harsh temper insupportable, and as if men might

not even more justly render themselves obnoxious to popular

dislike and censure, by using their power and influence in the

indulgence of their own private passions of pride and jealousy,

anger and animosity.  Phocion never allowed himself from any

feeling of personal hostility to do hurt to any fellow-citizen,

nor, indeed, reputed any man his enemy, except so far as he could

not but contend sharply with such as opposed the measures he urged

for the public good; in which argument he was, indeed, a rude,

obstinate, and uncompromising adversary.  For his general

conversation, it was easy, courteous, and obliging to all, to that

point that he would befriend his very opponents in their distress,

and espouse the cause of those who differed most from him, when

they needed his patronage.  His friends reproaching him for

pleading in behalf of a man of indifferent character, he told them

the innocent had no need of an advocate.  Aristogiton, the

sycophant, whom we mentioned before, having after sentence passed

upon him, sent earnestly to Phocion to speak with him in the

prison, his friends dissuaded him from going; "Nay, by your

favor," said he, "where should I rather choose to pay Aristogiton

a visit?"

As for the allies of the Athenians, and the islanders, whenever

any admiral besides Phocion was sent, they treated him as an enemy

suspect, barricaded their gates, blocked up their havens, brought

in from the country their cattle, slaves, wives, and children, and

put them in garrison; but upon Phocion's arrival, they went out to

welcome him in their private boats and barges, with streamers

and garlands, and received him at landing with every demonstration

of joy and pleasure.

When king Philip was effecting his entry into Euboea, and was

bringing over troops from Macedonia, and making himself master of

the cities, by means of the tyrants who ruled in them, Plutarch of

Eretria sent to request aid of the Athenians for the relief of the

island, which was in imminent danger of falling wholly into the

hands of the Macedonians.  Phocion was sent thither with a handful

of men in comparison, in expectation that the Euboeans themselves

would flock in and join him.  But when he came, he found all

things in confusion, the country all betrayed, the whole ground,

as it were, undermined under his feet, by the secret pensioners of

king Philip, so that he was in the greatest risk imaginable.  To

secure himself as far as he could, he seized a small rising

ground, which was divided from the level plains about Tamynae by a

deep watercourse, and here he enclosed and fortified the choicest

of his army.  As for the idle talkers and disorderly bad citizens

who ran off from his camp and made their way back, he bade his

officers not regard them, since here they would have been not only

useless and ungovernable themselves, but an actual hindrance to

the rest; and further, being conscious to themselves of the

neglect of their duty, they would be less ready to misrepresent

the action, or raise a cry against them at their return home.

When the enemy drew nigh, he bade his men stand to their arms,

until he had finished the sacrifice, in which he spent a

considerable time, either by some difficulty of the thing itself,

or on purpose to invite the enemy nearer.  Plutarch, interpreting

this tardiness as a failure in his courage, fell on alone with the

mercenaries, which the cavalry perceiving, could not be contained,

but issuing also out of the camp, confusedly and in disorder,

spurred up to the enemy.  The first who came up were defeated, the

rest were put to the rout, Plutarch himself took to flight, and a

body of the enemy advanced in the hope of carrying the camp,

supposing themselves to have secured the victory.  But by this

time, the sacrifice being over, the Athenians within the camp came

forward, and falling upon them put them to flight, and killed the

greater number as they fled among the entrenchments, while

Phocion ordering his infantry to keep on the watch and rally those

who came in from the previous flight, himself, with a body of his

best men, engaged the enemy in a sharp and bloody fight, in which

all of them behaved with signal courage and gallantry.  Thallus,

the son of Cineas, and Glaucus, of Polymedes, who fought near the

general, gained the honors of the day.  Cleophanes, also, did good

service in the battle.  Recovering the cavalry from its defeat,

and with his shouts and encouragement bringing them up to succor

the general, who was in danger, he confirmed the victory obtained

by the infantry.  Phocion now expelled Plutarch from Eretria, and

possessed himself of the very important fort of Zaretra, situated

where the island is pinched in, as it were, by the seas on each

side, and its breadth most reduced to a narrow girth.  He released

all the Greeks whom he took out of fear of the public speakers at

Athens, thinking they might very likely persuade the people in

their anger into committing some act of cruelty.

This affair thus dispatched and settled, Phocion set sail

homewards, and the allies had soon as good reason to regret the

loss of his just and humane dealing, as the Athenians that of his

experience and courage.  Molossus, the commander who took his

place, had no better success than to fall alive into the enemy's

hands.  Philip, full of great thoughts and designs, now advanced

with all his forces into the Hellespont, to seize the Chersonesus

and Perinthus, and after them, Byzantium.  The Athenians raised a

force to relieve them, but the popular leaders made it their

business to prefer Chares to be general, who, sailing thither,

effected nothing worthy of the means placed in his hands.  The

cities were afraid, and would not receive his ships into their

harbors, so that he did nothing but wander about, raising money

from their friends, and despised by their enemies.  And when the

people, chafed by the orators, were extremely indignant, and

repented having ever sent any help to the Byzantines, Phocion rose

and told them they ought not to be angry with the allies for

distrusting, but with their generals for being distrusted.  "They

make you suspected," he said, "even by those who cannot possibly

subsist without your succor."  The assembly being moved with this

speech of his, changed their minds on the sudden, and commanded

him immediately to raise another force, and go himself to assist

their confederates in the Hellespont; an appointment which, in

effect, contributed more than anything to the relief of

Byzantium.

For Phocion's name was already honorably known; and an old

acquaintance of his, who had been his fellow-student in the

Academy, Leon, a man of high renown for virtue among the

Byzantines, having vouched for Phocion to the city, they opened

their gates to receive him, not permitting him, though he desired

it, to encamp without the walls, but entertained him and all the

Athenians with perfect reliance, while they, to requite their

confidence, behaved among their new hosts soberly and

inoffensively, and exerted themselves on all occasions with the

greatest zeal and resolution for their defense.  Thus king Philip

was driven out of the Hellespont, and was despised to boot, whom

till now, it had been thought impossible to match, or even to

oppose.  Phocion also took some of his ships, and recaptured some

of the places he had garrisoned, making besides several inroads

into the country, which he plundered and overran, until he

received a wound from some of the enemy who came to the defense,

and, thereupon, sailed away home.

The Megarians at this time privately praying aid of the Athenians,

Phocion, fearing lest the Boeotians should hear of it, and

anticipate them, called an assembly at sunrise, and brought

forward the petition of the Megarians, and immediately after the

vote had been put, and carried in their favor, he sounded the

trumpet, and led the Athenians straight from the assembly, to arm

and put themselves in posture.  The Megarians received them

joyfully, and he proceeded to fortify Nisea, and built two new

long walls from the city to the arsenal, and so joined it to the

sea, so that having now little reason to regard the enemies on the

land side, it placed its dependence entirely on the Athenians.

When final hostilities with Philip were now certain, and in

Phocion's absence other generals had been nominated, he on his

arrival from the islands, dealt earnestly with the Athenians, that

since Philip showed peaceable inclinations towards them, and

greatly apprehended the danger, they would consent to a treaty.

Being contradicted in this by one of the ordinary frequenters of

the courts of justice, a common accuser, who asked him if he durst

presume to persuade the Athenians to peace, now their arms were in

their hands, "Yes," said he, "though I know that if there be war,

I shall be in office over you, and if peace, you over me."  But

when he could not prevail, and Demosthenes's opinion carried it,

advising them to make war as far off from home as possible, and

fight the battle out of Attica, "Good friend," said Phocion, "let

us not ask where we shall fight, but how we may conquer in the

war.  That will be the way to keep it at a distance.  If we are

beaten, it will be quickly at our doors."  After the defeat, when

the clamorers and incendiaries in the town would have brought up

Charidemus to the hustings, to be nominated to the command, the

best of the citizens were in a panic, and supporting themselves

with the aid of the council of the Areopagus, with entreaties and

tears hardly prevailed upon the people to have Phocion entrusted

with the care of the city.  He was of opinion, in general, that

the fair terms to be expected from Philip should be accepted, yet

after Demades had made a motion that the city should receive the

common conditions of peace in concurrence with the rest of the

states of Greece, he opposed it, till it were known what the

particulars were which Philip demanded.  He was overborne in this

advice, under the pressure of the time, but almost immediately

after, the Athenians repented it, when they understood that by

these articles, they were obliged to furnish Philip both with

horse and shipping.  "It was the fear of this," said Phocion,

"that occasioned my opposition.  But since the thing is done, let

us make the best of it, and not be discouraged.  Our forefathers

were sometimes in command, and sometimes under it; and by doing

their duty, whether as rulers or as subjects, saved their own

country and the rest of Greece."

Upon the news of Philip's death, he opposed himself to any public

demonstrations of joy and jubilee, saying it would be ignoble to

show malice upon such an occasion, and that the army that had

fought them at Chaeronea, was only diminished by a single man.

When Demosthenes made his invectives against Alexander, now on his

way to attack Thebes, he repeated those verses of Homer, —

"Unwise one, wherefore to a second stroke

His anger be foolhardy to provoke?"

and asked, "Why stimulate his already eager passion for glory?

Why take pains to expose the city to the terrible conflagration

now so near?  We, who accepted office to save our fellow-citizens,

will not, however they desire it, be consenting to their

destruction."

After Thebes was lost, and Alexander had demanded Demosthenes,

Lycurgus, Hyperides, and Charidemus to be delivered up, the whole

assembly turning their eyes to him, and calling on him by name to

deliver his opinion, at last he rose up, and showing them one of

his most intimate friends, whom he loved and confided in above all

others, told them, "You have brought things amongst you to that

pass, that for my part, should he demand this my friend Nicocles,

I would not refuse to give him up.  For as for myself, to have it

in my power to sacrifice my own life and fortune for the common

safety, I should think the greatest of good fortune.  Truly," he

added, "it pierces my heart to see those who are fled hither for

succor from the desolation of Thebes.  Yet it is enough for Greece

to have Thebes to deplore.  It will be more for the interest of

all that we should deprecate the conqueror's anger, and intercede

for both, than run the hazard of another battle."

When this was decreed by the people, Alexander is said to have

rejected their first address when it was presented, throwing it

from him scornfully, and turning his back upon the deputation, who

left him in affright.  But the second, which was presented by

Phocion, he received, understanding from the older Macedonians how

much Philip had admired and esteemed him.  And he not only gave

him audience and listened to his memorial and petition, but also

permitted him to advise him, which he did to this effect, that if

his designs were for quietness, he should make peace at once; if

glory were his aim, he should make war, not upon Greece, but on

the barbarians.  And with various counsels and suggestions,

happily designed to meet the genius and feelings of Alexander, he

so won upon him, and softened his temper, that he bade the

Athenians not forget their position, as if anything went wrong

with him, the supremacy belonged to them.  And to Phocion himself,

whom he adopted as his friend and guest, he showed a respect, and

admitted him to distinctions, which few of those who were

continually near his person ever received.  Duris, at any rate,

tells us, that when he became great, and had conquered Darius, in

the heading of all his letters he left off the word Greeting,

except in those he wrote to Phocion.  To him, and to Antipater

alone, he condescended to use it.  This, also, is stated by

Chares.

As for his munificence to him, it is well known he sent him a

present at one time of one hundred talents; and this being brought

to Athens, Phocion asked of the bearers, how it came to pass, that

among all the Athenians, he alone should be the object of this

bounty.  And being told that Alexander esteemed him alone a person

of honor and worth, "Let him, then," said he, "permit me to

continue so, and be still so reputed."  Following him to his

house, and observing his simple and plain way of living, his wife

employed in kneading bread with her own hands, himself drawing

water to wash his feet, they pressed him to accept it, with some

indignation, being ashamed, as they said, that Alexander's friend

should live so poorly and pitifully.  So Phocion pointing out to

them a poor old fellow, in a dirty worn-out coat, passing by,

asked them if they thought him in worse condition than this man.

They bade him not mention such a comparison.  "Yet," said Phocion,

"he with less to live upon than I, finds it sufficient, and in

brief," he continued, "if I do not use this money, what good is

there in my having it; and if I do use it, I shall procure an ill

name, both for myself and for Alexander, among my countrymen."  So

the treasure went back again from Athens, to prove to Greece, by a

signal example, that he who could afford to give so magnificent a

present, was yet not so rich as he who could afford to refuse it.

And when Alexander was displeased, and wrote back to him to say

that he could not esteem those his friends, who would not be

obliged by him, not even would this induce Phocion to accept the

money, but he begged leave to intercede with him in behalf of

Echecratides, the sophist, and Athenodorus, the Imbrian, as also

for Demaratus and Sparton, two Rhodians, who had been arrested

upon some charges, and were in custody at Sardis.  This was

instantly granted by Alexander, and they were set at liberty.

Afterwards, when sending Craterus into Macedonia, he commanded him

to make him an offer of four cities in Asia, Cius, Gergithus,

Mylasa, and Elaea, any one of which, at his choice, should be

delivered to him; insisting yet more positively with him, and

declaring he should resent it, should he continue obstinate in his

refusal.  But Phocion was not to be prevailed with at all, and,

shortly after, Alexander died.

Phocion's house is shown to this day in Melita, ornamented with

small plates of copper, but otherwise plain and homely.

Concerning his wives, of the first of them there is little said,

except that she was sister of Cephisodotus, the statuary.  The

other was a matron of no less reputation for her virtues and

simple living among the Athenians, than Phocion was for his

probity.  It happened once when the people were entertained with a

new tragedy, that the actor, just as he was to enter the stage to

perform the part of a queen, demanded to have a number of

attendants sumptuously dressed, to follow in his train, and on

their not being provided, was sullen and refused to act, keeping

the audience waiting, till at last Melanthius, who had to furnish

the chorus, pushed him on the stage, crying out, "What, don't you

know that Phocion's wife is never attended by more than a single

waiting woman, but you must needs be grand, and fill our women's

heads with vanity?"  This speech of his, spoken loud enough to be

heard, was received with great applause, and clapped all round the

theater.  She herself, when once entertaining a visitor out of

Ionia, who showed her all her rich ornaments, made of gold and set

with jewels, her wreaths, necklaces, and the like, "For my part,"

said she, "all my ornament is my husband Phocion, now for the

twentieth year in office as general at Athens."

He had a son named Phocus, who wished to take part in the games at

the great feast of Minerva.  He permitted him so to do, in the

contest of leaping, not with any view to the victory, but in the

hope that the training and discipline for it would make him a

better man, the youth being in a general way a lover of drinking,

and ill-regulated in his habits.  On his having succeeded in the

sports, many were eager for the honor of his company at banquets

in celebration of the victory.  Phocion declined all these

invitations but one, and when he came to this entertainment and

saw the costly preparations, even the water brought to wash the

guests' feet being mingled with wine and spices, he reprimanded

his son, asking him why he would so far permit his friend to sully

the honor of his victory.  And in the hope of wholly weaning the

young man from such habits and company, he sent him to Lacedaemon,

and placed him among the youths then under the course of the

Spartan discipline.  This the Athenians took offense at, as though

he slighted and contemned the education at home; and Demades

twitted him with it publicly, "Suppose, Phocion, you and I advise

the Athenians to adopt the Spartan constitution.  If you like, I

am ready to introduce a bill to that effect, and to speak in its

favor."  "Indeed," said Phocion, "you with that strong scent of

perfumes about you, and with that mantle on your shoulders, are

just the very man to speak in honor of Lycurgus, and recommend the

Spartan table."

When Alexander wrote to demand a supply of galleys, and the public

speakers objected to sending them, Phocion, on the council

requesting his opinion, told them freely, "Sirs, I would either

have you victorious yourselves, or friends of those who are so."

He took up Pytheas, who about this time first began to address the

assembly, and already showed himself a confident, talking fellow,

by saying that a young slave whom the people had but bought

yesterday, ought to have the manners to hold his tongue.  And

when Harpalus, who had fled from Alexander out of Asia, carrying

off a large sum of money, came to Attica, and there was a perfect

race among the ordinary public men of the assembly who should be

the first to take his pay, he distributed amongst these some

trifling sums by way of a bait and provocative, but to Phocion he

made an offer of no less than seven hundred talents and all manner

of other advantages he pleased to demand; with the compliment that

he would entirely commit himself and all his affairs to his

disposal.  Phocion answered sharply, Harpalus should repent of it,

if he did not quickly leave off corrupting and debauching the

city, which for the time silenced him, and checked his

proceedings.  But afterwards, when the Athenians were deliberating

in council about him, he found those that had received money from

him to be his greatest enemies, urging and aggravating matters

against him, to prevent themselves being discovered, whereas

Phocion, who had never touched his pay, now, so far as the public

interest would admit of it, showed some regard to his particular

security.  This encouraged him once more to try his inclinations,

and upon further survey, finding that he himself was a fortress,

inaccessible on every quarter to the approaches of corruption, he

professed a particular friendship to Phocion's son-in-law,

Charicles.  And admitting him into his confidence in all his

affairs, and continually requesting his assistance, he brought him

into some suspicion.  Upon the occasion, for example, of the death

of Pythonice, who was Harpalus's mistress, for whom he had a great

fondness, and had a child by her, he resolved to build her a

sumptuous monument, and committed the care of it to his friend

Charicles.  This commission, disreputable enough in itself, was

yet further disparaged by the figure the piece of workmanship made

after it was finished.  It is yet to be seen in the Hermeum. as

you go from Athens to Eleusis, with nothing in its appearance

answerable to the sum of thirty talents, with which Charicles is

said to have charged Harpalus for its erection.  After Harpalus's

own decease, his daughter was educated by Phocion and Charicles

with great care.  But when Charicles was called to account for his

dealings with Harpalus, and entreated his father-in-law's

protection, begging that he would appear for him in the court,

Phocion refused, telling him, "I did not choose you for my

son-in-law for any but honorable purposes."

Asclepiades, the son of Hipparchus, brought the first tidings of

Alexander's death to Athens, which Demades told them was not to be

credited; for, were it true, the whole world would ere this have

stunk with the dead body.  But Phocion seeing the people eager for

an instant revolution, did his best to quiet and repress them.

And when numbers of them rushed up to the hustings to speak, and

cried out that the news was true, and Alexander was dead, "If he

is dead today," said he, "he will be so tomorrow and the day

after tomorrow equally.  So that there is no need to take counsel

hastily or before it is safe."

When Leosthenes now had embarked the city in the Lamian war,

greatly against Phocion's wishes, to raise a laugh against

Phocion, he asked him scoffingly, what the State had been

benefited by his having now so many years been general.  "It is

not a little," said Phocion, "that the citizens have been buried

in their own sepulchers."  And when Leosthenes continued to speak

boldly and boastfully in the assembly, "Young man," he said, "your

speeches are like cypress trees, stately and tall, and no fruit to

come of them."  And when he was then attacked by Hyperides, who

asked him when the time would come, that he would advise the

Athenians to make war, "As soon," said he, "as I find the young

men keep their ranks, the rich men contribute their money, and the

Orators leave off robbing the treasury."  Afterwards, when many

admired the forces raised, and the preparations for war that were

made by Leosthenes, they asked Phocion how he approved of the new

levies.  "Very well," said he, "for the short course; but what I

fear, is the long race. Since however late the war may last, the

city has neither money, ships, nor soldiers, but these."  And the

event justified his prognostics.  At first all things appeared

fair and promising.  Leosthenes gained great reputation by

worsting the Boeotians  in battle, and driving Antipater within

the walls of Lamia, and the citizens were so transported with the

first successes, that they kept solemn festivities for them, and

offered public sacrifices to the gods.  So that some, thinking

Phocion must now be convinced of his error, asked him whether he

would not willingly have been author of these successful actions.

"Yes," said he, "most gladly, but also of the former counsel."

And when one express after another came from the camp, confirming

and magnifying the victories, "When," said he, "will the end of

them come?"

Leosthenes, soon after, was killed, and now those who feared lest

if Phocion obtained the command, he would put an end to the war,

arranged with an obscure person in the assembly, who should stand

up and profess himself to be a friend and old confidant of

Phocion's, and persuade the people to spare him at this time, and

reserve him (with whom none could compare) for a more pressing

occasion, and now to give Antiphilus the command of the army.

This pleased the generality, but Phocion made it appear he was so

far from having any friendship with him of old standing, that he

had not so much as the least familiarity with him; "Yet now, sir,"

says he, "give me leave to put you down among the number of my

friends and well-wishers, as you have given a piece of advice so

much to my advantage."

And when the people were eager to make an expedition against the

Boeotians, he at first opposed it; and on his friends telling him

the people would kill him, for always running counter to them,

"That will be unjust of them," he said, "if I give them honest

advice, if not, it will be just of them.''  But when he found them

persisting and shouting to him to lead them out, he commanded the

crier to make proclamation, that all the Athenians under sixty

should instantly provide themselves with five days' provision, and

follow him from the assembly.  This caused a great tumult.  Those

in years were startled, and clamored against the order; he

demanded wherein he injured them, "For I," says he, "am now

fourscore, and am ready to lead you."  This succeeded in pacifying

them for the present.

But when Micion, with a large force of Macedonians and

mercenaries, began to pillage the sea-coast, having made a descent

upon Rhamnus, and overrun the neighboring country, Phocion led out

the Athenians to attack him.  And when sundry private persons

came, intermeddling with his dispositions, and telling him that he

ought to occupy such or such a hill, detach the cavalry in this or

that direction, engage the enemy on this point or that, "O

Hercules," said he, "how many generals have we here, and how few

soldiers!"  Afterwards, having formed the battle, one who wished

to show his bravery, advanced out of his post before the rest, but

on the enemy's approaching, lost heart, and retired back into his

rank.  "Young man," said Phocion, "are you not ashamed twice in

one day to desert your station, first that on which I had placed

you, and secondly, that on which you had placed yourself?"

However, he entirely routed the enemy, killing Micion and many

more on the spot.  The Grecian army, also, in Thessaly, after

Leonnatus and the Macedonians who came with him out of Asia, had

arrived and joined Antipater, fought and beat them in a battle.

Leonnatus was killed in the fight, Antiphilus commanding the foot,

and Menon, the Thessalian, the horse.

But not long after, Craterus crossed from Asia with numerous

forces; a pitched battle was fought at Cranon; the Greeks were

beaten; though not, indeed, in a signal defeat, nor with any great

loss of men.  But what with their want of obedience to their

commanders, who were young and over-indulgent with them, and what

with Antipater's tampering and treating with their separate

cities, one by one, the end of it was that the army was dissolved,

and the Greeks shamefully surrendered the liberty of their

country.

Upon the news of Antipater's now advancing at once against Athens

with all his force, Demosthenes and Hyperides deserted the city,

and Demades, who was altogether insolvent for any part of the

fines that had been laid upon him by the city, for he had been

condemned no less than seven times for introducing bills contrary

to the laws, and who had been disfranchised, and was no longer

competent to vote in the assembly, laid hold of this season of

impunity, to bring in a bill for sending ambassadors with

plenipotentiary power to Antipater, to treat about a peace.  But

the people distrusted him, and called upon Phocion to give his

opinion, as the person they only and entirely confided in.  He

told them, "If my former counsels had been prevalent with you, we

had not been reduced to deliberate on the question at all."

However, the vote passed; and a decree was made, and he with

others deputed to go to Antipater, who lay now encamped in the

Theban territories, but intended to dislodge immediately, and pass

into Attica.  Phocion's first request was, that he would make the

treaty without moving his camp.  And when Craterus declared that

it was not fair to ask them to be burdensome to the country of

their friends and allies by their stay, when they might rather use

that of their enemies for provisions and the support of their

army, Antipater taking him by the hand, said, "We must grant this

favor to Phocion."  For the rest, he bade them return to their

principals, and acquaint them that he could only offer them the

same terms, namely, to surrender at discretion, which Leosthenes

had offered to him when he was shut up in Lamia.

When Phocion had returned to the city, and acquainted them with

this answer, they made a virtue of necessity, and complied, since

it would be no better.  So Phocion returned to Thebes with the

other ambassadors, and among the rest, Xenocrates, the

philosopher, the reputation of whose virtue and wisdom was so

great and famous everywhere, that they conceived there could not

be any pride, cruelty, or anger arising in the heart of man, which

would not at the mere sight of him be subdued into something of

reverence and admiration.  But the result, as it happened, was the

very opposite, Antipater showed such a want of feeling, and such a

dislike of goodness.  He saluted everyone else, but would not so

much as notice Xenocrates.  Xenocrates, they tell us, observed

upon it, that Antipater when meditating such cruelty to Athens,

did well to be ashamed of seeing him. When he began to speak, he

would not hear him, but broke in and rudely interrupted him, until

at last he was obliged to he silent.  But when Phocion had

declared the purport of their embassy, he replied shortly, that he

would make peace with the Athenians on these conditions, and no

others; that Demosthenes and Hyperides should be delivered up to

him; that they should retain their ancient form of government, the

franchise being determined by a property qualification; that they

should receive a garrison into Munychia, and pay a certain sum for

the cost of the war.  As things stood, these terms were judged

tolerable by the rest of the ambassadors; Xenocrates only said,

that if Antipater considered the Athenians slaves, he was treating

them fairly, but if free, severely.  Phocion pressed him only to

spare them the garrison, and used many arguments and entreaties.

Antipater replied, "Phocion, we are ready to do you any favor,

which will not bring ruin both on ourselves and on you."  Others

report it differently; that Antipater asked Phocion, supposing he

remitted the garrison to the Athenians, would he, Phocion, stand

surety for the city's observing the terms and attempting no

revolution?  And when he hesitated, and did not at once reply,

Callimedon, the Carabus, a hot partisan and professed enemy of

free states, cried out, "And if he should talk so idly, Antipater,

will you be so much abused as to believe him and not carry out

your own purpose?"  So the Athenians received the garrison, and

Menyllus for the governor, a fair-dealing man, and one of

Phocion's acquaintance.

But the proceeding seemed sufficiently imperious and arbitrary,

indeed rather a spiteful and insulting ostentation of power, than

that the possession of the fortress would be of any great

importance.  The resentment felt upon it was heightened by the

time it happened in, for the garrison was brought in on the

twentieth of the month of Boedromion, just at the time of the

great festival, when they carry forth Iacchus with solemn pomp

from the city to Eleusis; so that the solemnity being disturbed,

many began to call to mind instances, both ancient and modern, of

divine interventions and intimations.  For in old time, upon the

occasions of their happiest successes, the presence of the shapes

and voices of the mystic ceremonies had been vouchsafed to them,

striking terror and amazement into their enemies; but now, at the

very season of their celebration, the gods themselves stood

witnesses of the saddest oppressions of Greece, the most holy time

being profaned, and their greatest jubilee made the unlucky date

of their most extreme calamity.  Not many years before, they had a

warning from the oracle at Dodona, that they should carefully

guard the summits of Diana, lest haply strangers should seize

them.  And about this very time, when they dyed the ribbons and

garlands with which they adorn the couches and cars of the

procession, instead of a purple they received only a faint yellow

color; and to make the omen yet greater, all the things that were

dyed for common use, took the natural color.  While a candidate

for initiation was washing a young pig in the haven of Cantharus,

a shark seized him, bit off all his lower parts up to the belly,

and devoured them, by which the god gave them manifestly to

understand, that having lost the lower town and the sea-coast,

they should keep only the upper city.

Menyllus was sufficient security that the garrison should behave

itself inoffensively.  But those who were now excluded from the

franchise by poverty, amounted to more than twelve thousand; so

that both those that remained in the city thought themselves

oppressed and shamefully used, and those who on this account left

their homes and went away into Thrace, where Antipater offered

them a town and some territory to inhabit, regarded themselves

only as a colony of slaves and exiles.  And when to this was added

the deaths of Demosthenes at Calauria, and of Hyperides at

Cleonae, as we have elsewhere related, the citizens began to think

with regret of Philip and Alexander, and almost to wish the return

of those times.  And as, after Antigonus was slain, when those

that had taken him off were afflicting and oppressing the people,

a countryman in Phrygia, digging in the fields, was asked what he

was doing, "I am," said he, fetching a deep sigh, "searching for

Antigonus;" so said many that remembered those days, and the

contests they had with those kings, whose anger, however great,

was yet generous and placable; whereas Antipater, with the

counterfeit humility of appearing like a private man, in the

meanness of his dress  and his homely fare, merely belied his

real love of that arbitrary power, which he exercised, as a cruel

master and despot, to distress those under his command.  Yet

Phocion had interest with him to recall many from banishment by

his intercession, and prevailed also for those who were driven

out, that they might not, like others, be hurried beyond Taenarus,

and the mountains of Ceraunia, but remain in Greece, and plant

themselves in Peloponnesus, of which number was Agnonides, the

sycophant.  He was no less studious to manage the affairs within

the city with equity and moderation, preferring constantly those

that were men of worth and good education to the magistracies, and

recommending the busy and turbulent talkers, to whom it was a

mortal blow to be excluded from office and public debating, to

learn to stay at home, and be content to till their land.  And

observing that Xenocrates paid his alien-tax as a foreigner, he

offered him the freedom of the city, which he refused, saying he

could not accept a franchise which he had been sent, as an

ambassador, to deprecate.

Menyllus wished to give Phocion a considerable present of money,

who, thanking him, said, neither was Menyllus greater than

Alexander, nor his own occasions more urgent to receive it now,

than when he refused it from him..  And on his pressing him to

permit his son Phocus to receive it, he replied, "If my son

returns to a right mind, his patrimony is sufficient; if not, all

supplies will be insufficient."  But to Antipater he answered more

sharply, who would have him engaged in something dishonorable.

"Antipater," said he, "cannot have me both as his friend and his

flatterer."  And, indeed, Antipater was wont to say, he had two

friends at Athens, Phocion and Demades; the one would never suffer

him to gratify him at all, the other would never be satisfied.

Phocion might well think that poverty a virtue, in which, after

having so often been general of the Athenians, and admitted to the

friendship of potentates and princes, he had now grown old.

Demades, meantime, delighted in lavishing his wealth even in

positive transgressions of the law.  For there having been an

order that no foreigner should be hired to dance in any chorus on

the penalty of a fine of one thousand drachmas on the exhibitor,

he had the vanity to exhibit an entire chorus of a hundred

foreigners, and paid down the penalty of a thousand drachmas a

head upon the stage itself.  Marrying his son Demeas, he told him

with the like vanity, "My son, when I married your mother, it was

done so privately it was not known to the next neighbors, but

kings and princes give presents at your nuptials."

The garrison in Munychia continued to be felt as a great

grievance, and the Athenians did not cease to be importunate upon

Phocion, to prevail with Antipater for its removal; but whether he

despaired of effecting it, or perhaps observed the people to be

more orderly, and public matters more reasonably conducted by the

awe that was thus created, he constantly declined the office, and

contented himself with obtaining from Antipater the postponement

for the present of the payment of the sum of money in which the

city was fined.  So the people, leaving him off, applied

themselves to Demades, who readily undertook the employment, and

took along with him his son also into Macedonia; and some superior

power, as it seems, so ordering it, he came just at that nick of

time, when Antipater was already seized with his sickness, and

Cassander, taking upon himself the command, had found a letter of

Demades's, formerly written by him to Antigonus in Asia,

recommending him to come and possess himself of the empire of

Greece and Macedon, now hanging, he said, (a scoff at Antipater,)

"by an old and rotten thread."  So when Cassander saw him come, he

seized him; and first brought out the son and killed him so close

before his face, that the blood ran all over his clothes and

person, and then, after bitterly taunting and upbraiding him with

his ingratitude and treachery, dispatched him himself.

Antipater being dead, after nominating Polysperchon

general-in-chief, and Cassander commander of the cavalry,

Cassander at once set up for himself and immediately dispatched

Nicanor to Menyllus, to succeed him in the command of the

garrison, commanding him to possess himself of Munychia before the

news of Antipater's death should be heard; which being done, and

some days after the Athenians hearing the report of it, Phocion

was taxed as privy to it before, and censured heavily for

dissembling it, out of friendship for Nicanor.  But he slighted

their talk, and making it his duty to visit and confer

continually with Nicanor, he succeeded in procuring his good-will

and kindness for the Athenians, and induced him even to put

himself to trouble and expense to seek popularity with them, by

undertaking the office of presiding at the games.

In the meantime Polysperchon, who was entrusted with the charge

of the king, to countermine Cassander, sent a letter to the city,

declaring in the name of the king, that he restored them their

democracy, and that the whole Athenian people were at liberty to

conduct their commonwealth according to their ancient customs and

constitutions.  The object of these pretenses was merely the

overthrow of Phocion's influence, as the event manifested.  For

Polysperchon's design being to possess himself of the city, he

despaired altogether of bringing it to pass, whilst Phocion

retained his credit; and the most certain way to ruin him, would

be again to fill the city with a crowd of disfranchised citizens,

and let loose the tongues of the demagogues and common accusers.

With this prospect, the Athenians were all in excitement, and

Nicanor, wishing to confer with them on the subject, at a meeting

of the Council in Piraeus, came himself, trusting for the safety

of his person to Phocion.  And when Dercyllus, who commanded the

guard there, made an attempt to seize him, upon notice of it

beforehand, he made his escape, and there was little doubt he

would now lose no time in righting himself upon the city for the

affront; and when Phocion was found fault with for letting him get

off and not securing him, he defended himself by saying that he

had no mistrust of Nicanor, nor the least reason to expect any

mischief from him, but should it prove otherwise, for his part he

would have them all know, he would rather receive than do the

wrong.  And so far as he spoke for himself alone, the answer was

honorable and high-minded enough, but he who hazards his country's

safety, and that, too, when he is her magistrate and chief

commander, can scarcely he acquitted, I fear, of transgressing a

higher and more sacred obligation of justice, which he owed to his

fellow citizens.  For it will not even do to say, that he dreaded

the involving the city in war, by seizing Nicanor, and hoped by

professions of confidence and just-dealing, to retain him in the

observance of the like; but it was, indeed, his credulity and

confidence in him, and an overweening opinion of his sincerity,

that imposed upon him.  So that notwithstanding the sundry

intimations he had of his making preparations to attack Piraeus,

sending soldiers over into Salamis, and tampering with, and

endeavoring to corrupt various residents in Piraeus, he would,

notwithstanding all this evidence, never be persuaded to believe

it.  And even when Philomedes of Lampra had got a decree passed,

that all the Athenians should stand to their arms, and be ready to

follow Phocion their general, he yet sat still and did nothing,

until Nicanor actually led his troops out from Munychia, and drew

trenches about Piraeus; upon which, when Phocion at last would

have led out the Athenians, they cried out against him, and

slighted his orders.

Alexander, the son of Polysperchon, was at hand with a

considerable force, and professed to come to give them succor

against Nicanor, but intended nothing less, if possible, than to

surprise the city, whilst they were in tumult and divided among

themselves.  For all that had previously been expelled from the

city, now coming back with him, made their way into it, and were

joined by a mixed multitude of foreigners and disfranchised

persons, and of these a motley and irregular public assembly came

together, in which they presently divested Phocion of all power,

and chose other generals; and if, by chance Alexander had not

been spied from the walls, alone in close conference with Nicanor,

and had not this, which was often repeated, given the Athenians

cause of suspicion, the city had not escaped the snare.  The

orator Agnonides, however, at once fell foul upon Phocion, and

impeached him of treason; Callimedon and Charicles, fearing the

worst, consulted their own security by flying from the city;

Phocion, with a few of his friends that stayed with him, went over

to Polysperchon, and out of respect for him, Solon of Plataea,

and Dinarchus of Corinth, who were reputed friends and confidants

of Polysperchon, accompanied him.  But on account of Dinarchus

falling ill, they remained several days in Elatea, during which

time, upon the persuasion of Agnonides and on the motion of

Archestratus a decree passed that the people should send delegates

thither to accuse Phocion.  So both parties reached Polysperchon

at the same time, who was going through the country with the king,

and was then at a small village of Phocis, Pharygae, under the

mountain now called Galate, but then Acrurium.

There Polysperchon, having set up the golden canopy, and seated

the king and his company under it, ordered Dinarchus at once to be

taken, and tortured, and put to death; and that done, gave

audience to the Athenians, who filled the place with noise and

tumult, accusing and recriminating on one another, till at last

Agnonides came forward, and requested they might all be shut up

together in one cage, and conveyed to Athens, there to decide the

controversy.  At that the king could not forbear smiling, but the

company that attended, for their own amusement, Macedonians and

strangers, were eager to hear the altercation, and made signs to

the delegates to go on with their case at once.  But it was no

sort of fair hearing.  Polysperchon frequently interrupted

Phocion, till at last Phocion struck his staff on the ground, and

declined to speak further.  And when Hegemon said, Polysperchon

himself could bear witness to his affection for the people,

Polysperchon called out fiercely, "Give over slandering me to the

king," and the king starting up was about to have run him through

with his javelin, but Polysperchon interposed and hindered him; so

that the assembly dissolved.

Phocion, then, and those about him, were seized; those of his

friends that were not immediately by him, on seeing this, hid

their faces, and saved themselves by flight.  The rest Clitus took

and brought to Athens, to be submitted to trial; but, in truth, as

men already sentenced to die.  The manner of conveying them was

indeed extremely moving; they were carried in chariots through the

Ceramicus, straight to the place of judicature, where Clitus

secured them till they had convoked an assembly of the people,

which was open to all comers, neither foreigners, nor slaves, nor

those who had been punished with disfranchisement, being refused

admittance, but all alike, both men and women, being allowed to

come into the court, and even upon the place of speaking.  So

having read the king's letters, in which he declared he was

satisfied himself that these men were traitors, however, they

being a free city, he willingly accorded them the grace of trying

and judging them according to their own laws, Clitus brought in

his prisoners.  Every respectable citizen, at the sight of

Phocion, covered up his face, and stooped down to conceal his

tears.  And one of them had the courage to say, that since the

king had committed so important a cause to the judgment of the

people, it would be well that the strangers, and those of servile

condition, should withdraw.  But the populace would not endure it,

crying out they were oligarchs, and enemies to the liberty of the

people, and deserved to be stoned; after which no man durst offer

anything further in Phocion's behalf.  He was himself with

difficulty heard at all, when he put the question, "Do you wish to

put us to death lawfully, or unlawfully?"  Some answered,

"According to law." He replied, "How can you, except we have a

fair hearing?"  But when they were deaf to all he said,

approaching nearer, "As to myself," said he, "I admit my guilt,

and pronounce my public conduct to have deserved sentence of

death.  But why, O men of Athens, kill others who have offended in

nothing?"  The rabble cried out, they were his friends, that was

enough.  Phocion therefore drew back, and said no more.

Then Agnonides read the bill, in accordance with which the people

should decide by show of hands whether they judged them guilty,

and if so it should be found, the penalty should be death.  When

this had been read out, some desired it might be added to the

sentence, that Phocion should be tortured also, and that the rack

should be produced with the executioners.  But Agnonides

perceiving even Clitus to dislike this, and himself thinking it

horrid and barbarous, said, "When we catch that slave, Callimedon,

men of Athens, we will put him to the rack, but I shall make no

motion of the kind in Phocion's case."  Upon which one of the

better citizens remarked, he was quite right; "If we should

torture Phocion, what could we do to you?"  So the form of the

bill was approved of, and the show of hands called for; upon

which, not one man retaining his seat, but all rising up, and some

with garlands on their heads, they condemned them all to death.

There were present with Phocion, Nicocles, Thudippus, Hegemon, and

Pythocles.  Demetrius the Phalerian, Callimedon, Charicles, and

some others, were included in the condemnation, being absent.

After the assembly was dismissed, they were carried to the prison;

the rest with cries and lamentations, their friends and relatives

following; and clinging about them, but Phocion looking (as men

observed with astonishment at his calmness and magnanimity) just

the same as when he had been used to return to his home attended,

as general, from the assembly.  His enemies ran along by his side,

reviling and abusing him.  And one of them coming up to him, spat

in his face; at which Phocion, turning to the officers, only said,

"You should stop this indecency."  Thudippus, on their reaching

the prison, when he observed the executioner tempering the poison

and preparing it for them, gave way to his passion, and began to

bemoan his condition and the hard measure he received, thus

unjustly to suffer with Phocion.  "You cannot be contented," said

he, "to die with Phocion?"  One of his friends that stood by,

asked him if he wished to have anything said to his son.  "Yes, by

all means," said he, "bid him bear no grudge against the

Athenians."  Then Nicocles, the dearest and most faithful of his

friends, begged to be allowed to drink the poison first.  "My

friend," said he, "you ask what I am loath and sorrowful to give,

but as I never yet in all my life was so thankless as to refuse

you, I must gratify you in this also."  After they had all drunk

of it, the poison ran short; and the executioner refused to

prepare more, except they would pay him twelve drachmas, to defray

the cost of the quantity required.  Some delay was made, and time

spent, when Phocion called one of his friends, and observing that

a man could not even die at Athens without paying for it,

requested him to give the sum.

It was the nineteenth day of the month Munychion, on which it was

the usage to have a solemn procession in the city, in honor of

Jupiter.  The horsemen, as they passed by, some of them threw away

their garlands, others stopped, weeping, and casting sorrowful

looks towards the prison doors, and all the citizens whose minds

were not absolutely debauched by spite and passion, or who had any

humanity left, acknowledged it to have been most impiously done,

not, at least, to let that day pass, and the city so be kept pure

from death and a public execution at the solemn festival.  But as

if this triumph had been insufficient, the malice of Phocion's

enemies went yet further; his dead body was excluded from burial

within the boundaries of the country, and none of the Athenians

could light a funeral pile to burn the corpse; neither durst any

of his friends venture to concern themselves about it.  A certain

Conopion, a man who used to do these offices for hire, took the

body and carried it beyond Eleusis, and procuring fire from over

the frontier of Megara, burned it.  Phocion's wife, with her

servant-maids, being present and assisting at the solemnity,

raised there an empty tomb, and performed the customary libations,

and gathering up the bones in her lap, and bringing them home by

night, dug a place for them by the fireside in her house, saying,

"Blessed hearth, to your custody I commit the remains of a good

and brave man; and, I beseech you, protect and restore them to the

sepulcher of his fathers, when the Athenians return to their right

minds."

And, indeed, a very little time and their own sad experience soon

informed them what an excellent governor, and how great an example

and guardian of justice and of temperance they had bereft

themselves of.  And now they decreed him a statue of brass, and

his bones to be buried honorably at the public charge; and for his

accusers, Agnonides they took themselves, and caused him to be put

to death.  Epicurus and Demophilus, who fled from the city for

fear, his son met with, and took his revenge upon them.  This son

of his, we are told, was in general of an indifferent character,

and once, when enamored of a slave girl kept by a common harlot

merchant, happened to hear Theodorus, the atheist, arguing in the

Lyceum, that if it were a good and honorable thing to buy the

freedom of a friend in the masculine, why not also of a friend in

the feminine, if, for example, a master, why not also a mistress?

So putting the good argument and his passion together, he went off

and purchased the girl's freedom.  The death which was thus

suffered by Phocion, revived among the Greeks the memory of that

of Socrates, the two cases being so similar, and both equally the

sad fault and misfortune of the city.

CATO THE YOUNGER

The family of Cato derived its first luster from his

great-grandfather Cato, whose virtue gained him such great

reputation and authority among the Romans, as we have written in

his life.

This Cato was, by the loss of both his parents, left an orphan,

together with his brother Caepio, and his sister Porcia.  He had

also a half-sister, Servilia, by the mother's side.  All these

lived together, and were bred up in the house of Livius Drusus,

their uncle by the mother who, at that time, had a great share in

the government, being a very eloquent speaker, a man of the

greatest temperance, and yielding in dignity to none of the

Romans.

It is said of Cato, that even from his infancy, in his speech,

his countenance, and all his childish pastimes, he discovered an

inflexible temper, unmoved by any passion, and firm in

everything.  He was resolute in his purposes, much beyond the

strength of his age, to go through with whatever he undertook.

He was rough and ungentle toward those that flattered him, and

still more unyielding to those who threatened him.  It was

difficult to excite him to laughter; his countenance seldom

relaxed even into a smile; he was not quickly or easily provoked

to anger, but if once incensed, he was no less difficult to

pacify.

When he began to learn, he proved dull, and slow to apprehend,

but of what he once received, his memory was remarkably

tenacious.  And such, in fact, we find generally to be the course

of nature; men of fine genius are readily reminded of things, but

those who receive with most pains and difficulty, remember best;

every new thing they learn, being, as it were, burnt and branded

in on their minds.  Cato's natural stubbornness and slowness to

be persuaded, may also have made it more difficult for him to be

taught.  For to learn, is to submit to have something done to

one; and persuasion comes soonest to those who have least

strength to resist it.  Hence young men are sooner persuaded than

those that are more in years, and sick men, than those that are

well in health In fine, where there is least previous doubt and

difficulty the new impression is most easily accepted.  Yet Cato,

they say, was very obedient to his preceptor, and would do

whatever he was commanded; but he would also ask the reason, and

inquire the cause of everything.  And, indeed, his teacher was a

very well-bred man, more ready to instruct, than to beat his

scholars.  His name was Sarpedon.

When Cato was a child, the allies of the Romans sued to be made

free citizens of Rome.  Pompaedius Silo, one of their deputies, a

brave soldier, and a man of great repute, who had contracted a

friendship with Drusus, lodged at his house for several days, in

which time being grown familiar with the children, "Well," said

he to them, "will you entreat your uncle to befriend us in our

business?"  Caepio, smiling, assented, but Cato made no answer,

only he looked steadfastly and fiercely on the strangers.  Then

said Pompaedius, "And you, young sir, what say you to us? will

not you, as well as your brother, intercede with your uncle in

our behalf?"  And when Cato continued to give no answer, by his

silence and his countenance seeming to deny their petition,

Pompaedius snatched him up to the window as if he would throw him

out, and told him to consent, or he would fling him down, and,

speaking in a harsher tone, held his body out of the window, and

shook him several times.  When Cato had suffered this a good

while, unmoved and unalarmed, Pompaedius setting him down, said

in an under-voice to his friend, "What a blessing for Italy,

that he is but a child!  If he were a man, I believe we should

not gain one voice among the people."  Another time, one of his

relations, on his birthday, invited Cato and some other children

to supper, and some of the company diverted themselves in a

separate part of the house, and were at play, the elder and the

younger together, their sport being to act the pleadings before

the judges, accusing one another, and carrying away the condemned

to prison.  Among these a very beautiful young child, being bound

and carried by a bigger into prison, cried out to Cato, who

seeing what was going on, presently ran to the door, and

thrusting away those who stood there as guard, took out the

child, and went home in anger, followed by some of his

companions.

Cato at length grew so famous among them, that when Sylla

designed to exhibit the sacred game of young men riding courses

on horseback, which they called Troy, having gotten together the

youth of good birth, he appointed two for their leaders.  One of

them they accepted for his mother's sake, being the son of

Metella, the wife of Sylla; but as for the other, Sextus, the

nephew of Pompey, they would not be led by him, nor exercise

under him.  Then Sylla asking, whom they would have, they all

cried out, Cato; and Sextus willingly yielded the honor to him,

as the more worthy.

Sylla, who was a friend of their family, sent at times for Cato

and his brother to see them and talk with them; a favor which he

showed to very few, after gaining his great power and authority.

Sarpedon, full of the advantage it would be, as well for the

honor as the safety of his scholars, would often bring Cato to

wait upon Sylla at his house, which, for the multitude of those

that were being carried off in custody, and tormented there,

looked like a place of execution.  Cato was then in his

fourteenth year, and seeing the heads of men said to be of great

distinction brought thither, and observing the secret sighs of

those that were present, he asked his preceptor, "Why does nobody

kill this man?''  "Because," said he, "they fear him, child, more

than they hate him."  "Why, then," replied Cato, "did you not

give me a sword, that I might stab him, and free my country from

this slavery?"  Sarpedon hearing this, and at the same time

seeing his countenance swelling with anger and determination,

took care thenceforward to watch him strictly, lest he should

hazard any desperate attempt.

While he was yet very young, to some that asked him, whom he

loved best, he answered, his brother.  And being asked, whom

next, he replied, his brother, again.  So likewise the third

time, and still the same, till they left off to ask any further.

As he grew in age, this love to his brother grew yet the

stronger.  When he was about twenty years old, he never supped,

never went out of town, nor into the forum, without Caepio.  But

when his brother made use of precious ointments and perfumes,

Cato declined them; and he was, in all his habits, very strict

and austere, so that when Caepio was admired for his moderation

and temperance, he would acknowledge that indeed he might be

accounted such, in comparison with some other men, "but," said

he, "when I compare myself with Cato, I find myself scarcely

different from Sippius," one at that time notorious for his

luxurious and effeminate living.

Cato being made priest of Apollo, went to another house, took his

portion of their paternal inheritance, amounting to a hundred and

twenty talents, and began to live yet more strictly than before.

Having gained the intimate acquaintance of Antipater the Tyrian,

the Stoic philosopher, he devoted himself to the study, above

everything, of moral and political doctrine.  And though

possessed, as it were, by a kind of inspiration for the pursuit

of every virtue, yet what most of all virtue and excellence fixed

his affection, was that steady and inflexible Justice, which is

not to be wrought upon by favor or compassion.  He learned also

the art of speaking and debating in public, thinking that

political philosophy, like a great city, should maintain for its

security the military and warlike element. But he would never

recite his exercises before company, nor was he ever heard to

declaim.  And to one that told him, men blamed his silence, "But

I hope not my life," he replied, "I will begin to speak, when I

have that to say which had not better be unsaid."

The great Porcian Hall, as it was called, had been built and

dedicated to the public use by the old Cato, when aedile.  Here

the tribunes of the people used to transact their business, and

because one of the pillars was thought to interfere with the

convenience of their seats, they deliberated whether it were

best to remove it to another place, or to take it away.  This

occasion first drew Cato, much against his will, into the forum;

for he opposed the demand of the tribunes, and in so doing, gave

a specimen both of his courage and his powers of speaking, which

gained him great admiration.  His speech had nothing youthful or

refined in it, but was straightforward, full of matter, and

rough, at the same time that there was a certain grace about his

rough statements which won the attention; and the speaker's

character showing itself in all he said, added to his severe

language something that excited feelings of natural pleasure and

interest.  His voice was full and sounding, and sufficient to be

heard by so great a multitude, and its vigor and capacity of

endurance quite indefatigable; for he often would speak a whole

day, and never stop.

When he had carried this cause, he betook himself again to study

and retirement.  He employed himself in inuring his body to labor

and violent exercise; and habituated himself to go bareheaded in

the hottest and the coldest weather, and to walk on foot at all

seasons.  When he went on a journey with any of his friends,

though they were on horseback and he on foot, yet he would often

join now one, then another, and converse with them on the way.

In sickness, the patience he showed in supporting, and the

abstinence he used for curing his distempers, were admirable.

When he had an ague, he would remain alone, and suffer nobody to

see him, till he began to recover, and found the fit was over.

At supper, when he threw dice for the choice of dishes, and lost,

and the company offered him nevertheless his choice, he declined

to dispute, as he said, the decision of Venus. At first, he was

wont to drink only once after supper, and then go away; but in

process of time he grew to drink more, insomuch that oftentimes

he would continue till morning.  This his friends explained by

saying that state affairs and public business took him up all

day, and being desirous of knowledge, he liked to pass the night

at wine in the conversation of philosophers.  Hence, upon one

Memmius saying in public, that Cato spent whole nights in

drinking, "You should add," replied Cicero, "that he spends whole

days in gambling."  And in general Cato esteemed the customs and

manners of men at that time so corrupt, and a reformation in them

so necessary, that he thought it requisite, in many things, to go

contrary to the ordinary way of the world.  Seeing the lightest

and gayest purple was then most in fashion, he would always wear

that which was nearest black; and he would often go out of doors,

after his morning meal, without either shoes or tunic; not that

he sought vainglory from such novelties, but he would accustom

himself to be ashamed only of what deserves shame, and to despise

all other sorts of disgrace.

The estate of one Cato, his cousin, which was worth one hundred

talents, falling to him, he turned it all into ready money, which

he kept by him for any of his friends that should happen to want,

to whom he would lend it without interest.  And for some of them,

he suffered his own land and his slaves to be mortgaged to the

public treasury.

When he thought himself of an age fit to marry, having never

before known any woman, he was contracted to Lepida, who had

before been contracted to Metellus Scipio, but on Scipio's own

withdrawal from it, the contract had been dissolved, and she

left at liberty.  Yet Scipio afterward repenting himself, did all

he could to regain her, before the marriage with Cato was

completed, and succeeded in so doing.  At which Cato was

violently incensed, and resolved at first to go to law about it;

but his friends persuaded him to the contrary.  However, he was

so moved by the heat of youth and passion, that he wrote a

quantity of iambic verses against Scipio, in the bitter,

sarcastic style of Archilochus, without, however, his license and

scurrility.  After this, he married Atilia, the daughter of

Soranus, the first, but not the only woman he ever knew, less

happy thus far than Laelius, the friend of Scipio, who in the

whole course of so long a life never knew but the one woman to

whom he was united in his first and only marriage.

In the war of the slaves, which took its name from Spartacus,

their ringleader, Gellius was general, and Cato went a volunteer,

for the sake of his brother Caepio, who was a tribune in the

army.  Cato could find here no opportunity to show his zeal or

exercise his valor, on account of the ill conduct of the general.

However, amidst the corruption and disorders of that army, he

showed such a love of discipline, so much bravery upon occasion,

and so much courage and wisdom in everything, that it appeared

he was no way inferior to the old Cato.  Gellius offered him

great rewards, and would have decreed him the first honors;

which, however, he refused, saying, he had done nothing that

deserved them.  This made him be thought a man of a strange and

eccentric temper.

There was a law passed, moreover, that the candidates who stood

for any office should not have prompters in their canvass, to

tell them the names of the citizens;  and Cato, when he sued to

be elected tribune, was the only man that obeyed this law.  He

took great pains to learn by his own knowledge to salute those he

had to speak with, and to call them by their names; yet even

those who praised him for this, did not do so without some envy

and jealousy, for the more they considered the excellence of

what he did, the more they were grieved at the difficulty they

found to do the like.

Being chosen tribune, he was sent into Macedon to join Rubrius,

who was general there.  It is said that his wife showing much

concern, and weeping at his departure, Munatius, one of Cato's

friends, said to her, "Do not trouble yourself, Atilia, I will

engage to watch over him for you."  "By all means," replied Cato;

and when they had gone one day's journey together, "Now," said he

to Munatius, after they had supped, "that you may be sure to keep

your promise to Atilia, you must not leave me day nor night," and

from that time, he ordered two beds to be made in his own

chamber, that Munatius might lie there.  And so he continued to

do, Cato making it his jest to see that he was always there.

There went with him fifteen slaves, two freedmen, and four of his

friends; these rode on horseback, but Cato always went on foot,

yet would he keep by them, and talk with each of them in turn, as

they went.

When he came to the army, which consisted of several legions, the

general gave him the command of one; and as he looked upon it as

a small matter, and not worthy a commander, to give evidence of

his own single valor, he resolved to make his soldiers, as far as

he could, like himself, not, however, in this, relaxing the

terrors of his office, but associating reason with his authority.

He persuaded and instructed every one in particular, and bestowed

rewards or punishments according to desert; and at length his men

were so well disciplined, that it was hard to say, whether they

were more peaceable, or more warlike, more valiant, or more just;

they were alike formidable to their enemies and courteous to

their allies, fearful to do wrong, and forward to gain honor.

And Cato himself acquired in the fullest measure, what it had

been his least desire to seek, glory and good repute; he was

highly esteemed by all men, and entirely beloved by the soldiers.

Whatever he commanded to be done, he himself took part in the

performing; in his apparel, his diet and mode of traveling, he

was more like a common soldier than an officer; but in character,

high purpose, and wisdom, he far exceeded all that had the names

and titles of commanders, and he made himself, without knowing

it, the object of general affection.  For the true love of virtue

is in all men produced by the love and respect they bear to him

that teaches it; and those who praise good men, yet do not love

them, may respect their reputation, but do not really admire, and

will never imitate their virtue.

There dwelt at that time in Pergamus, Athenodorus, surnamed

Cordylio, a man of high repute for his knowledge of the stoic

philosophy, who was now grown old, and had always steadily

refused the friendship and acquaintance of princes and great men.

Cato understood this; so that imagining he should not be able to

prevail with him by sending or writing, and being by the laws

allowed two months' absence from the army, he resolved to go into

Asia to see him in person, trusting to his own good qualities not

to lose his labor.  And when he had conversed with him, and

succeeded in persuading him out of his former resolutions, he

returned and brought him to the camp, as joyful and as proud of

this victory as if he had done some heroic exploit, greater than

any of those of Pompey or Lucullus, who, with their armies, at

that time were subduing so many nations and kingdoms.

While Cato was yet in the service, his brother, on a journey

towards Asia, fell sick at Aenus in Thrace, letters with

intelligence of which were immediately dispatched to him.  The

sea was very rough, and no convenient ship of any size to be had;

so Cato, getting into a small trading-vessel, with only two of his

friends and three servants, set sail from Thessalonica, and

having very narrowly escaped drowning, he arrived at Aenus just

as Caepio expired.  Upon this occasion, he was thought to have

showed himself more a fond brother than a philosopher, not only

in the excess of his grief, bewailing, and embracing the dead

body, but also in the extravagant expenses of the funeral, the

vast quantity of rich perfumes and costly garments which were

burnt with the corpse, and the monument of Thasian marble, which

he erected, at the cost of eight talents, in the public place of

the town of Aenus.  For there were some who took upon them to

cavil at all this, as not consistent with his usual calmness and

moderation, not discerning that though he were steadfast, firm,

and inflexible to pleasure, fear, or foolish entreaties, yet he

was full of natural tenderness and brotherly affection.  Divers

of the cities and princes of the country, sent him many presents,

to honor the funeral of his brother; but he took none of their

money, only the perfumes and ornaments he received, and paid for

them also.  And afterwards, when the inheritance was divided

between him and Caepio's daughter, he did not require any portion

of the funeral expenses to be discharged out of it.

Notwithstanding this, it has been affirmed that he made his

brother's ashes be passed through a sieve, to find the gold that

was melted down when burnt with the body.  But he who made this

statement appears to have anticipated an exemption for his pen,

as much as for his sword, from all question and criticism.

The time of Cato's service in the army being expired, he

received, at his departure, not only the prayers and praises, but

the tears, and embraces of the soldiers, who spread their clothes

at his feet, and kissed his hand as he passed, an honor which the

Romans at that time scarcely paid even to a very few of their

generals and commander-in-chief.  Having left the army, he

resolved, before he would return home and apply himself to state

affairs, to travel in Asia, and observe the manners, the customs,

and the strength of every province.  He was also unwilling to

refuse the kindness of Deiotarus, king of Galatia, who having had

great familiarity and friendship with his father, was very

desirous to receive a visit from him.  Cato's arrangements in his

journey were as follows.  Early in the morning he sent out his

baker and his cook towards the place where he designed to stay

the next night; these went soberly and quietly into the town, in

which, if there happened to be no friend or acquaintance of Cato

or his family, they provided for him in an inn, and gave no

disturbance to anybody; but if there were no inn, then and in

this case only, they went to the magistrates, and desiring them

to help them to lodgings, took without complaint whatever was

allotted to them.  His servants thus behaving themselves towards

the magistrates, without noise and threatening, were often

discredited, or neglected by them, so that Cato many times

arrived and found nothing provided for him.  And it was all the

worse when he appeared himself; still less account was taken of

him.  When they saw him sitting, without saying anything, on his

baggage, they set him down at once as a person of no consequence,

who did not venture to make any demand.  Sometimes, on such

occasions, he would call them to him and tell them, "Foolish

people, lay aside this inhospitality.  All your visitors will not

be Catos.  Use your courtesy, to take off the sharp edge of

power.  There are men enough who desire but a pretense, to take

from you by force, what you give with such reluctance."

While he traveled in this manner, a diverting accident befell him

in Syria.  As he was going into Antioch, he saw a great multitude

of people outside the gates, ranged in order on either side the

way; here the young men with long cloaks, there the children

decently dressed; others wore garlands and white garments, who

were the priests and magistrates.  Cato, imagining all this could

mean nothing but a display in honor of his reception, began to be

angry with his servants who had been sent before, for suffering

it to be done; then making his friends alight, he walked along

with them on foot.  As soon as he came near the gate, an elderly

man, who seemed to be master of these ceremonies, with a wand and

a garland in his hand, came up to Cato, and without saluting him,

asked him, where he had left Demetrius, and how soon he thought

he would be there.  This Demetrius was Pompey's servant, and as

at this time the whole world, so to say, had its eyes fixed upon

Pompey, this man also was highly honored, on account of his

influence with his master.  Upon this, Cato's friends fell into

such violent laughter, that they could not restrain themselves

while they passed through the crowd; and he himself, ashamed and

distressed, uttered the words, "Unfortunate city!" and said no

more.  Afterwards, however, it always made him laugh, when he

either told the story or was otherwise reminded of it.

Pompey himself shortly after made the people ashamed of their

ignorance and folly in thus neglecting him, for Cato, coming in

his journey to Ephesus, went to pay his respects to him, who was

the elder man, had gained much honor, and was then general of a

great army.  Yet Pompey would not receive him sitting, but as

soon as he saw him, rose up, and going to meet him, as the more

honorable person, gave him his hand, and embraced him with great

show of kindness.  He said much in commendation of his virtue,

both at that time when receiving him, and also yet more, after he

had withdrawn.  So that now all men began at once to display

their respect for Cato, and discovered in the very same things

for which they despised him before, an admirable mildness of

temper, and greatness of spirit.  And indeed the civility that

Pompey himself showed him, appeared to come from one that rather

respected than loved him; and the general opinion was, that while

Cato was there, he paid him admiration, but was not sorry when he

was gone.  For when other young men came to see him, he usually

urged and entreated them to continue with him.  Now he did not at

all invite Cato to stay, but as if his own power were lessened by

the other's presence, he very willingly allowed him to take his

leave.  Yet to Cato alone, of all those who went for Rome, he

recommended his children and his wife, who was indeed connected

by relationship with Cato.

After this, all the cities through which he passed, strove and

emulated each other in showing him respect and honor.  Feasts and

entertainments were made for his reception, so that he bade his

friends keep strict watch and take care of him, lest he should

end by making good what was said by Curio, who though he were his

familial friend, yet disliking the austerity of his temper, asked

him one day, if when he left the army, he designed to see Asia,

and Cato answering, "Yes, by all means," "You do well," replied

Curio, "you will bring back with you a better temper and

pleasanter manners;" pretty nearly the very words he used.

Deiotarus being now an old man, had sent for Cato, to recommend

his children and family to his protection; and as soon as he

came, brought him presents of all sorts of things, which he

begged and entreated him to accept.  And his importunities

displeased Cato so much, that though he came but in the evening,

he stayed only that night, and went away early the next morning.

After he was gone one day's journey, he found at Pessinus a yet

greater quantity of presents provided for him there, and also

letters from Deiotarus, entreating him to receive them, or at

least to permit his friends to take them, who for his sake

deserved some gratification, and could not have much done for

them out of Cato's own means.  Yet he would not suffer it, though

he saw some of them very willing to receive such gifts, and ready

to complain of his severity; but he answered, that corruption

would never want pretense, and his friends should share with him

in whatever he should justly and honestly obtain, and so returned

the presents to Deiotarus.

When he took ship for Brundusium, his friends would have

persuaded him to put his brother's ashes into another vessel; but

he said, he would sooner part with his life than leave them, and

so set sail.  And as it chanced, he, we are told, had a very

dangerous passage, though others at the same time went over

safely enough.

After he was returned to Rome, he spent his time for the most

part either at home, in conversation with Athenodorus, or at the

forum, in the service of his friends.  Though it was now the time

that he should become quaestor, he would not stand for the place

till he had studied the laws relating to it, and by inquiry from

persons of experience, had attained a distinct understanding of

the duty and authority belonging to it.  With this knowledge, as

soon as he came into the office, he made a great reformation

among the clerks and under-officers of the treasury, people who

had long practice and familiarity in all the public records and

the laws, and, when new magistrates came in year by year, so

ignorant and unskillful as to be in absolute need of others to

teach them what to do, did not submit and give way, but kept the

power in their own hands, and were in effect the treasurers

themselves.  Till Cato, applying himself roundly to the work,

showed that he possessed not only the title and honor of a

quaestor, but the knowledge and understanding and full authority

of his office.  So that he used the clerks and under-officers

like servants, as they were, exposing their corrupt practices,

and instructing their ignorance.  Being bold impudent fellows,

they flattered the other quaestors, his colleagues, and by their

means endeavored to maintain an opposition against him.  But he

convicted the chiefest of them of a breach of trust in the charge

of an inheritance, and turned him out of his place.  A second he

brought to trial for dishonesty, who was defended by Lutatius

Catulus, at that time censor, a man very considerable for his

office, but yet more for his character, as he was eminent above

all the Romans of that age for his reputed wisdom and integrity.

He was also intimate with Cato, and much commended his way of

living.  So perceiving he could not bring off his client, if he

stood a fair trial, he openly began to beg him off.  Cato

objected to his doing this.  And when he continued still to be

importunate, "It would be shameful, Catulus," he said, "that the

censor, the judge of all our lives, should incur the dishonor of

removal by our officers."  At this expression, Catalus looked as

if he would have made some answer; but he said nothing, and

either through anger or shame went away silent, and out of

countenance.  Nevertheless, the man was not found guilty, for the

voices that acquitted him were but one in number less than those

that condemned him, and Marcus Lollius, one of Cato's colleagues,

who was absent by reason of sickness, was sent for by Catalus,

and entreated to come and save the man.  So Lollius was brought

into court in a chair, and gave his voice also for acquitting

him.  Yet Cato never after made use of that clerk, and never paid

him his salary, nor would he make any account of the vote given

by Lollius.  Having thus humbled the clerks, and brought them to

be at command, he made use of the books and registers as he

thought fit, and in a little while gained the treasury a higher

name than the Senate-house itself; and all men said, Cato had

made the office of a quaestor equal to the dignity of a consul.

When he found many indebted to the state upon old accounts, and

the state also in debt to many private persons, he took care that

the public might no longer either do or suffer wrong; he strictly

and punctually exacted what was due to the treasury, and as

freely and speedily paid all those to whom it was indebted.  So

that the people were filled with sentiments of awe and respect,

on seeing those made to pay, who thought to have escaped with

their plunder, and others receiving all their due, who despaired

of getting anything.  And whereas usually those who brought

false bills and pretended orders of the senate, could through

favor get them accepted, Cato would never be so imposed upon, and

in the case of one particular order, question arising, whether it

had passed the senate, he would not believe a great many

witnesses that attested it, nor would admit of it, till the

consuls came and affirmed it upon oath.

There were at that time a great many whom Sylla had made use of

as his agents in the proscription, and to whom he had for their

service in putting men to death, given twelve thousand drachmas

apiece.  These men everybody hated as wicked and polluted

wretches, but nobody durst be revenged upon them.  Cato called

everyone to account, as wrongfully possessed of the public

money, and exacted it of them, and at the same time sharply

reproved them for their unlawful and impious actions.  After

these proceedings, they were presently accused of murder, and

being already in a manner prejudged as guilty, they were easily

found so, and accordingly suffered; at which the whole people

rejoiced, and thought themselves now to see the old tyranny

finally abolished, and Sylla himself, so to say, brought to

punishment.

Cato's assiduity also, and indefatigable diligence, won very much

upon the people.  He always came first of any of his colleagues

to the treasury, and went away the last.  He never missed any

assembly of the people, or sitting of the senate; being always

anxious and on the watch for those who lightly, or as a matter of

interest, passed votes in favor of this or that person, for

remitting debts or granting away customs that were owing to the

state.  And at length, having kept the exchequer pure and clear

from base informers, and yet having filled it with treasure, he

made it appear the state might be rich, without oppressing the

people.  At first he excited feelings of dislike and irritation

in some of his colleagues, but after a while they were well

contented with him, since he was perfectly willing that they

should cast all the odium on him, when they declined to gratify

their friends with the public money, or to give dishonest judgments

in passing their accounts; and when hard pressed by suitors, they

could readily answer it was impossible to do anything, unless

Cato would consent.  On the last day of his office, he was

honorably attended to his house by almost all the people;

but on the way he was informed that several powerful friends were

in the treasury with Marcellus, using all their interest with him

to pass a certain debt to the public revenue, as if it had been a

gift.  Marcellus had been one of Cato's friends from his

childhood, and so long as Cato was with him, was one of the best

of his colleagues in this office, but when alone, was unable to

resist the importunity of suitors, and prone to do anybody a

kindness.  So Cato immediately turned back, and finding that

Marcellus had yielded to pass the thing, he took the book, and

while Marcellus silently stood by and looked on, struck it out.

This done, he brought Marcellus out of the treasury, and took him

home with him; who for all this, neither then, nor ever after,

complained of him, but always continued his friendship and

familiarity with him.

Cato after he had laid down his office, yet did not cease to keep

a watch upon the treasury.  He had his servants who continually

wrote out the details of the expenditure, and he himself kept

always by him certain books, which contained the accounts of the

revenue from Sylla's time to his own quaestorship, which he had

bought for five talents.

He was always first at the senate, and went out last; and often,

while the others were slowly collecting, he would sit and read by

himself, holding his gown before his book.  He was never once out

of town when the senate was to meet.  And when afterwards Pompey

and his party, finding that he could never be either persuaded or

compelled to favor their unjust designs, endeavored to keep him

from the senate, by engaging him in business for his friends, to

plead their causes, or arbitrate in their differences, or the

like, he quickly discovered the trick, and to defeat it, fairly

told all his acquaintance that he would never meddle in any

private business when the senate was assembled.  Since it was not

in the hope of gaining honor or riches, nor out of mere impulse,

or by chance that he engaged himself in politics, but he

undertook the service of the state, as the proper business of an

honest man, and therefore he thought himself obliged to be as

constant to his public duty, as the bee to the honeycomb.  To

this end, he took care to have his friends and correspondents

everywhere, to send him reports of the edicts, decrees,

judgments, and all the important proceedings that passed in any

of the provinces.  Once when Clodius, the seditious orator, to

promote his violent and revolutionary projects, traduced to the

people some of the priests and priestesses, (among whom Fabia,

sister to Cicero's wife, Terentia, ran great danger,) Cato,

having boldly interfered, and having made Clodius appear so

infamous that he was forced to leave the town, was addressed,

when it was over, by Cicero, who came to thank him for what he

had done.  "You must thank the commonwealth," said he, for whose

sake alone he professed to do everything.  Thus he gained a

great and wonderful reputation; so that an advocate in a cause,

where there was only one witness against him, told the judges

they ought not to rely upon a single witness, though it were Cato

himself.  And it was a sort of proverb with many people, if any

very unlikely and incredible thing were asserted, to say, they

would not believe it, though Cato himself should affirm it.  One

day a debauched and sumptuous liver talking in the senate about

frugality and temperance, Amnaeus standing up, cried, "Who can

endure this, Sir, to have you feast like Crassus, build like

Lucullus and talk like Cato."  So likewise those who were vicious

and dissolute in their manners, yet affected to be grave and

severe in their language, were in derision called Catos.

At first, when his friends would have persuaded him to stand to

be tribune of the people, he thought it undesirable; for that the

power of so great an office ought to be reserved, as the

strongest medicines, for occasions of the last necessity.  But

afterwards in a vacation time, as he was going, accompanied with

his books and philosophers, to Lucania, where he had lands with a

pleasant residence, they met by the way a great many horses,

carriages, and attendants, of whom they understood, that Metellus

Nepos was going to Rome, to stand to be tribune of the people.

Hereupon Cato stopped, and after a little pause, gave orders to

return back immediately; at which the company seeming to wonder,

"Don't you know," said he, "how dangerous of itself the madness

of Metellus is? and now that he comes armed with the support of

Pompey, he will fall like lightning on the state, and bring it to

utter disorder; therefore this is no time for idleness and

diversion, but we must go and prevent this man in his designs, or

bravely die in defense of our liberty."  Nevertheless, by the

persuasion of his friends, he went first to his country-house,

where he stayed but a very little time, and then returned to

town.

He arrived in the evening, and went straight the next morning to

the forum, where he began to solicit for the tribuneship, in

opposition to Metellus.  The power of this office consists rather

in controlling, than performing any business; for though all the

rest except any one tribune should be agreed, yet his denial or

intercession could put a stop to the whole matter.  Cato, at

first, had not many that appeared for him; but as soon as his

design was known, all the good and distinguished persons of the

city quickly came forward to encourage and support him, looking

upon him, not as one that desired a favor of them, but one that

proposed to do a great favor to his country and all honest men;

who had many times refused the same office, when he might have

had it without trouble, but now sought it with danger, that he

might defend their liberty and their government.  It is reported

that so great a number flocked about him, that he was like to be

stifled amidst the press, and could scarce get through the crowd.

He was declared tribune, with several others, among whom was

Metellus.

When Cato was chosen into this office, observing that the

election of consuls was become a matter of purchase, he sharply

rebuked the people for this corruption, and in the conclusion of

his speech protested, he would bring to trial whomever he should

find giving money, making an exception only in the case of

Silanus, on account of their near connection, he having married

Servilia, Cato's sister.  He therefore did not prosecute him, but

accused Lucius Murena, who had been chosen consul by corrupt

means with Silanus.  There was a law that the party accused might

appoint a person to keep watch upon his accuser, that he might

know fairly what means he took in preparing the accusation.  He

that was set upon Cato by Murena, at first followed and observed

him strictly, yet never found him dealing any way unfairly or

insidiously, but always generously and candidly going on in the

just and open methods of proceeding.  And he so admired Cato's

great spirit, and so entirely trusted to his integrity, that

meeting him in the forum, or going to his house, he would ask

him, if he designed to do anything that day in order to the

accusation, and if Cato said no, he went away, relying on his

word.  When the cause was pleaded, Cicero, who was then consul

and defended Murena, took occasion to be extremely witty and

jocose, in reference to Cato, upon the stoic philosophers, and

their paradoxes, as they call them, and so excited great laughter

among the judges; upon which Cato, smiling, said to the standers

by, "What a pleasant consul we have, my friends."  Murena was

acquitted, and afterwards showed himself a man of no ill feeling

or want of sense; for when he was consul, he always took Cato's

advice in the most weighty affairs, and during all the time of

his office, paid him much honor and respect.  Of which not only

Murena's prudence, but also Cato's own behavior, was the cause;

for though he were terrible and severe as to matters of justice,

in the senate, and at the bar, yet after the thing was over, his

manner to all men was perfectly friendly and humane.

Before he entered on the office of tribune, he assisted Cicero,

at that time consul, in many contests that concerned his office,

but most especially in his great and noble acts at the time of

Catiline's conspiracy, which owed their last successful issue to

Cato.  Catiline had plotted a dreadful and entire subversion of

the Roman state by sedition and open war, but being convicted by

Cicero, was forced to fly the city.  Yet Lentulus and Cethegus

remained with several others, to carry on the same plot; and

blaming Catiline, as one that wanted courage, and had been timid

and petty in his designs, they themselves resolved to set the

whole town on fire, and utterly to overthrow the empire, rousing

whole nations to revolt and exciting foreign wars.  But the

design was discovered by Cicero, (as we have written in his

life,) and the matter brought before the senate.  Silanus, who

spoke first, delivered his opinion, that the conspirators ought

to suffer the last of punishments, and was therein followed by

all who spoke after him; till it came to Caesar, who being an

excellent speaker, and looking upon all changes and commotions in

the state as materials useful for his own purposes, desired

rather to increase than extinguish them; and standing up, he made

a very merciful and persuasive speech, that they ought not to

suffer death without fair trial according to law, and moved that

they might be kept in prison.  Thus was the house almost wholly

turned by Caesar, apprehending also the anger of the people;

insomuch that even Silanus retracted, and said he did not mean to

propose death, but imprisonment, for that was the utmost a Roman

could suffer.  Upon this they were all inclined to the milder and

more merciful opinion, when Cato standing up, began at once with

great passion and vehemence to reproach Silanus for his change of

opinion, and to attack Caesar, who would, he said, ruin the

commonwealth by soft words and popular speeches, and was

endeavoring to frighten the senate, when he himself ought to

fear, and be thankful, if he escaped unpunished or unsuspected,

who thus openly and boldly dared to protect the enemies of the

state, and while finding no compassion for his own native

country, brought, with all its glories, so near to utter ruin,

could yet be full of pity for those men, who had better never

have been born, and whose death must deliver the commonwealth

from bloodshed and destruction.  This only of all Cato's

speeches, it is said, was preserved; for Cicero, the consul, had

disposed, in various parts of the senate-house, several of the

most expert and rapid writers, whom he had taught to make figures

comprising numerous words in a few short strokes; as up to that

time they had not used those we call short-hand writers, who

then, as it is said, established the first example of the art.

Thus Cato carried it, and so turned the house again, that it was

decreed the conspirators should be put to death.

Not to omit any small matters that may serve to show Cato's

temper, and add something to the portraiture of his mind, it is

reported, that while Caesar and he were in the very heat, and the

whole senate regarding them two, a little note was brought in to

Caesar, which Cato declared to be suspicious, and urging that

some seditious act was going on, bade the letter be read.  Upon

which Caesar handed the paper to Cato; who discovering it to be a

love-letter from his sister Servilia to Caesar, by whom she had

been corrupted, threw it to him again, saying, "Take it,

drunkard," and so went on with his discourse.  And, indeed, it

seems Cato had but ill-fortune in women; for this lady was ill

spoken of, for her familiarity with Caesar, and the other

Servilia, Cato's sister also, was yet more ill-conducted; for

being married to Lucullus, one of the greatest men in Rome, and

having brought him a son, she was afterwards divorced for

incontinency.  But what was worst of all, Cato's own wife Atilia

was not free from the same fault; and after she had borne him two

children, he was forced to put her away for her misconduct.

After that he married Marcia, the daughter of Philippus, a woman

of good reputation, who yet has occasioned much discourse; and

the life of Cato, like a dramatic piece, has this one scene or

passage full of perplexity and doubtful meaning.

It is thus related by Thrasea, who refers to the authority of

Munatius, Cato's friend and constant companion.  Among many that

loved and admired Cato, some were more remarkable and conspicuous

than others.  Of these was Quintus Hortensius, a man of high

repute and approved virtue, who desired not only to live in

friendship and familiarity with Cato, but also to unite his whole

house and family with him by some sort or other of alliance in

marriage.  Therefore he set himself to persuade Cato, that his

daughter Porcia, who was already married to Bibulus, and had

borne him two children, might nevertheless be given to him, as a

fair plot of land, to bear fruit also for him.  "For," said he,

"though this in the opinion of men may seem strange, yet in

nature it is honest, and profitable for the public, that a woman

in the prime of her youth should not lie useless, and lose the

fruit of her womb, nor, on the other side, should burden and

impoverish one man, by bringing him too many children.  Also by

this communication of families among worthy men, virtue would

increase, and be diffused through their posterity; and the

commonwealth would be united and cemented by their alliances."

Yet if Bibulus would not part with his wife altogether, he would

restore her as soon as she had brought him a child, whereby he

might be united to both their families.  Cato answered, that he

loved Hortensius very well, and much approved of uniting their

houses, but he thought it strange to speak of marrying his

daughter, when she was already given to another.  Then

Hortensius, turning the discourse, did not hesitate to speak

openly and ask for Cato's own wife, for she was young and

fruitful, and he had already children enough.  Neither can it be

thought that Hortensius did this, as imagining Cato did not care

for Marcia; for, it is said, she was then with child.  Cato,

perceiving his earnest desire, did not deny his request, but said

that Philippus, the father of Marcia, ought also to be consulted.

Philippus, therefore, being sent for, came; and finding they were

well agreed, gave his daughter Marcia to Hortensius in the

presence of Cato, who himself also assisted at the marriage.

This was done at a later time, but since I was speaking of women,

I thought it well to mention it now.

Lentulus and the rest of the conspirators were put to death, but

Caesar, finding so much insinuated and charged against him in the

senate, betook himself to the people, and proceeded to stir up

the most corrupt and dissolute elements of the state to form a

party in his support.  Cato, apprehensive of what might ensue,

persuaded the senate to win over the poor and unprovided-for

multitude, by a distribution of corn, the annual charge of which

amounted to twelve hundred and fifty talents.  This act of

humanity and kindness unquestionably dissipated the present

danger.  But Metellus, coming into his office of tribune, began

to hold tumultuous assemblies, and had prepared a decree, that

Pompey the Great should presently be called into Italy, with all

his forces, to preserve the city from the danger of Catiline's

conspiracy.  This was the fair pretense; but the true design was,

to deliver all into the hands of Pompey, and give him an absolute

power.  Upon this the senate was assembled, and Cato did not fall

sharply upon Metellus, as he often did, but urged his advice in

the most reasonable and moderate tone.  At last he descended even

to entreaty, and extolled the house of Metellus, as having always

taken part with the nobility.  At this Metellus grew the more

insolent, and despising Cato, as if he yielded and were afraid,

let himself proceed to the most audacious menaces, openly

threatening to do whatever he pleased in spite of the senate.

Upon this Cato changed his countenance, his voice, and his

language; and after many sharp expressions, boldly concluded,

that while he lived, Pompey should never come armed into the

city.  The senate thought them both extravagant, and not well in

their safe senses; for the design of Metellus seemed to be mere

rage and frenzy, out of excess of mischief bringing all things to

ruin and confusion, and Cato's virtue looked like a kind of

ecstasy of contention in the cause of what was good and just.

But when the day came for the people to give their voices for the

passing this decree, and Metellus beforehand occupied the forum

with armed men, strangers, gladiators, and slaves, those that in

hopes of change followed Pompey, were known to be no small part

of the people, and besides, they had great assistance from

Caesar, who was then praetor; and though the best and chiefest

men of the city were no less offended at these proceedings than

Cato, they seemed rather likely to suffer with him, than able to

assist him.  In the meantime Cato's whole family were in extreme

fear and apprehension for him; some of his friends neither ate

nor slept all the night, passing the whole time in debating and

perplexity; his wife and sisters also bewailed and lamented him.

But he himself, void of all fear, and full of assurance,

comforted and encouraged them by his own words and conversation

with them.  After supper he went to rest at his usual hour, and

was the next day waked out of a profound sleep by Minucius

Thermus, one of his colleagues.  So soon as he was up, they two

went together into the forum, accompanied by very few, but met by

a great many, who bade them have a care of themselves.  Cato,

therefore, when he saw the temple of Castor and Pollux

encompassed with armed men, and the steps guarded by gladiators,

and at the top Metellus and Caesar seated together, turning to

his friends, "Behold," said he, "this audacious coward, who has

levied a regiment of soldiers against one unarmed naked man;"

and so he went on with Thermus.  Those who kept the passages,

gave way to these two only, and would not let anybody else pass.

Yet Cato taking Munatius by the hand, with much difficulty pulled

him through along with him.  Then going directly to Metellus and

Caesar, he sat himself down between them, to prevent their

talking to one another, at which they were both amazed and

confounded.  And those of the honest party, observing the

countenance, and admiring the high spirit and boldness of Cato,

went nearer, and cried out to him to have courage, exhorting also

one another to stand together, and not betray their liberty, nor

the defender of it.

Then the clerk took out the bill, but Cato forbade him to read

it, whereupon Metellus took it, and would have read it himself,

but Cato snatched away the book.  Yet Metellus having the decree

by heart, began to recite it without book; but Thermus put his

hand to his mouth, and stopped his speech.  Metellus seeing them

fully bent to withstand him, and the people cowed, and inclining

to the better side, sent to his house for armed men.  And on

their rushing in with great noise and terror, all the rest

dispersed and ran away, except Cato, who alone stood still, while

the other party threw sticks and stones at him from above, until

Murena, whom he had formerly accused, came up to protect him, and

holding his gown before him, cried out to them to leave off

throwing; and, in fine, persuading and pulling him along, he

forced him into the temple of Castor and Pollux.  Metellus now

seeing the place clear, and all the adverse party fled out of the

forum, thought he might easily carry his point; so he commanded

the soldiers to retire, and recommencing in an orderly manner,

began to proceed to passing the decree.  But the other side

having recovered themselves, returned very boldly, and with loud

shouting, insomuch that Metellus's adherents were seized with a

panic, supposing them to be coming with a reinforcement of armed

men, and fled every one out of the place.  They being thus

dispersed, Cato came in again, and confirmed the courage, and

commended the resolution of the people; so that now the majority

were, by all means, for deposing Metellus from his office.  The

senate also being assembled, gave orders once more for supporting

Cato, and resisting the motion, as of a nature to excite sedition

and perhaps civil war in the city.

But Metellus continued still very bold and resolute; and seeing

his party stood greatly in fear of Cato, whom they looked upon as

invincible, he hurried out of the senate into the forum, and

assembled the people, to whom he made a bitter and invidious

speech against Cato, crying out, he was forced to fly from his

tyranny, and this conspiracy against Pompey; that the city would

soon repent their having dishonored so great a man.  And from

hence he started to go to Asia, with the intention, as would be

supposed, of laying before Pompey all the injuries that were done

him.  Cato was highly extolled for having delivered the state

from this dangerous tribuneship, and having in some measure

defeated, in the person of Metellus, the power of Pompey; but he

was yet more commended when, upon the senate proceeding to

disgrace Metellus and depose him from his office, he altogether

opposed and at length diverted the design.  The common people

admired his moderation and humanity, in not trampling wantonly on

an enemy whom he had overthrown, and wiser men acknowledged his

prudence and policy, in not exasperating Pompey.

Lucullus soon after returned from the war in Asia, the finishing

of which, and thereby the glory of the whole, was thus, in all

appearance, taken out of his hands by Pompey.  And he was also

not far from losing his triumph, for Caius Memmius traduced him

to the people, and threatened to accuse him; rather, however, out

of love to Pompey, than for any particular enmity to him.  But

Cato, being allied to Lucullus, who had married his sister

Servilia, and also thinking it a great injustice, opposed

Memmius, thereby exposing himself to much slander and

misrepresentation, insomuch that they would have turned him out

of his office, pretending that he used his power tyrannically.

Yet at length Cato so far prevailed against Memmius, that he was

forced to let fall the accusations, and abandon the contest.  And

Lucullus having thus obtained his triumph, yet more sedulously

cultivated Cato's friendship, which he looked upon as a great

guard and defense for him against Pompey's power.

And now Pompey also returning with glory from the war, and

confiding in the good-will of the people, shown in their splendid

reception of him, thought he should be denied nothing, and sent

therefore to the senate to put off the assembly for the election

of consuls, till he could be present to assist Piso, who stood

for that office.  To this most of the senators were disposed to

yield; Cato, only, not so much thinking that this delay would be

of great importance, but, desiring to cut down at once Pompey's

high expectations and designs, withstood his request, and so

overruled the senate, that it was carried against him.  And this

not a little disturbed Pompey, who found he should very often

fail in his projects, unless he could bring over Cato to his

interest.  He sent, therefore, for Munatius, his friend; and Cato

having two nieces that were marriageable, he offered to marry the

eldest himself, and take the youngest for his son.  Some say they

were not his nieces, but his daughters.  Munatius proposed the

matter to Cato, in presence of his wife and sisters; the women

were full of joy at the prospect of an alliance with so great and

important a person.  But Cato, without delay or balancing,

forming his decision at once, answered, "Go, Munatius, go and

tell Pompey, that Cato is not assailable on the side of the

women's chamber; I am grateful indeed for the intended kindness,

and so long as his actions are upright, I promise him a

friendship more sure than any marriage alliance, but I will not

give hostages to Pompey's glory, against my country's safety."

This answer was very much against the wishes of the women, and to

all his friends it seemed somewhat harsh and haughty.  But

afterwards, when Pompey, endeavoring to get the consulship for

one of his friends, gave pay to the people for their votes, and

the bribery was notorious, the money being counted out in

Pompey's own gardens, Cato then said to the women, they must

necessarily have been concerned in the contamination of these

misdeeds of Pompey, if they had been allied to his family; and

they acknowledged that he did best in refusing it.  Yet if we may

judge by the event, Cato was much to blame in rejecting that

alliance, which thereby fell to Caesar.  And then that match was

made, which, uniting his and Pompey's power, had well-nigh ruined

the Roman empire, and did destroy the commonwealth.  Nothing of

which perhaps had come to pass, but that Cato was too

apprehensive of Pompey's least faults, and did not consider how

he forced him into conferring on another man the opportunity of

committing the greatest.

These things, however, were yet to come.  Lucullus, meantime, and

Pompey, had a great dispute concerning their orders and

arrangements in Pontus, each endeavoring that his own ordinances

might stand.  Cato took part with Lucullus, who was manifestly

suffering wrong; and Pompey, finding himself the weaker in the

senate, had recourse to the people, and to gain votes, he

proposed a law for dividing the lands among the soldiers.  Cato

opposing him in this also, made the bill be rejected.  Upon this

he joined himself with Clodius, at that time the most violent of

all the demagogues; and entered also into friendship with Caesar,

upon an occasion of which also Cato was the cause.  For Caesar

returning from his government in Spain, at the same time sued to

be chosen consul, and yet desired not to lose his triumph.  Now

the law requiring that those who stood for any office should be

present, and yet that whoever expected a triumph should continue

without the walls, Caesar requested the senate, that his friends

might be permitted to canvass for him in his absence.  Many of

the senators were willing to consent to it, but Cato opposed it,

and perceiving them inclined to favor Caesar, spent the whole day

in speaking, and so prevented the senate from coming to any

conclusion.  Caesar, therefore, resolving to let fall his

pretensions to the triumph, came into the town, and immediately

made a friendship with Pompey, and stood for the consulship.  And

so soon as he was declared consul elect, he married his daughter

Julia to Pompey.  And having thus combined themselves together

against the commonwealth, the one proposed laws for dividing the

lands among the poor people, and the other was present to support

the proposals Lucullus, Cicero, and their friends, joined with

Bibulus, the other consul, to hinder their passing, and, foremost

of them all, Cato, who already looked upon the friendship and

alliance of Pompey and Caesar as very dangerous, and declared he

did not so much dislike the advantage the people should get by

this division of the lands, as he feared the reward these men

would gain, by thus courting and cozening the people.  And in

this he gained over the senate to his opinion, as likewise many

who were not senators, who were offended at Caesar's ill conduct,

that he, in the office of consul, should thus basely and

dishonorably flatter the people; practicing, to win their favor,

the same means that were wont to be used only by the most rash

and rebellious tribunes.  Caesar, therefore, and his party,

fearing they should not carry it by fair dealing, fell to open

force.  First a basket of dung was thrown upon Bibulus as he was

going to the forum; then they set upon his lictors and broke

their rods; at length several darts were thrown, and many men

wounded; so that all that were against those laws, fled out of

the forum, the rest with what haste they could, and Cato, last of

all, walking out slowly, often turning back and calling down

vengeance upon them.

Thus the other party not only carried their point of dividing the

lands, but also ordained, that all the senate should swear to

confirm this law, and to defend it against whoever should attempt

to alter it, indicting great penalties on those that should

refuse the oath.  All the senators seeing the necessity they were

in, took the oath, remembering the example of Metellus in old

time, who refusing to swear upon the like occasion, was forced to

leave Italy.  As for Cato, his wife and children with tears

besought him, his friends and familiars persuaded and entreated

him, to yield and take the oath; but he that principally

prevailed with him was Cicero, the orator, who urged upon him

that it was perhaps not even right in itself, that a private man

should oppose what the public had decreed; that the thing being

already past altering, it were folly and madness to throw himself

into danger, without the chance of doing his country any good; it

would be the greatest of all evils, to embrace, as it were, the

opportunity to abandon the commonwealth, for whose sake he did

everything, and to let it fall into the hands of those who

designed nothing but its ruin, as if he were glad to be saved

from the trouble of defending it.  "For," said he, "though Cato

have no need of Rome, yet Rome has need of Cato, and so likewise

have all his friends."  Of whom Cicero professed he himself was

the chief, being; at that time aimed at by Clodius, who openly

threatened to fall upon him, as soon as ever he should get to be

tribune.  Thus Cato, they say, moved by the entreaties and the

arguments of his friends, went unwillingly to take the oath,

which he did the last of all, except only Favonius, one of his

intimate acquaintance.

Caesar, exalted with this success, proposed another law, for

dividing almost all the country of Campania among the poor and

needy citizens.  Nobody durst speak against it but Cato, whom

Caesar therefore pulled from the rostra, and dragged to prison:

yet Cato did not even thus remit his freedom of speech, but as

he went along, continued to speak against the law, and advised

the people to put down all legislators who proposed the like.

The senate and the best of the citizens followed him with sad and

dejected looks, showing their grief and indignation by their

silence, so that Caesar could not be ignorant how much they were

offended; but for contention's sake, he still persisted,

expecting Cato should either supplicate him, or make an appeal.

But when he saw that he did not so much as think of doing either,

ashamed of what he was doing and of what people thought of it, he

himself privately bade one of the tribunes interpose and procure

his release.  However, having won the multitude by these laws and

gratifications, they decreed that Caesar should have the

government of Illyricum, and all Gaul, with an army of four

legions, for the space of five years, though Cato still cried out

they were, by their own vote, placing a tyrant in their citadel.

Publius Clodius, who illegally of a patrician became a plebeian,

was declared tribune of the people, as he had promised to do all

things according to their pleasure, on condition he might banish

Cicero.  And for consuls, they set up Calpurnius Piso, the father

of Caesar's wife, and Aulus Gabinius, one of Pompey's creatures,

as they tell us, who best knew his life and manners.

Yet when they had thus firmly established all things, having

mastered one part of the city by favor, and the other by fear,

they themselves were still afraid of Cato, and remembered with

vexation what pains and trouble their success over him had cost

them, and indeed what shame and disgrace, when at last they were

driven to use violence to him.  This made Clodius despair of

driving Cicero out of Italy while Cato stayed at home.

Therefore, having first laid his design, as soon as he came into

his office, he sent for Cato, and told him, that he looked upon

him as the most incorrupt of all the Romans, and was ready to

show he did so.  "For whereas," said he, "many have applied to be

sent to Cyprus on the commission in the case of Ptolemy, and have

solicited to have the appointment, I think you alone are

deserving of it, and I desire to give you the favor of the

appointment."  Cato at once cried out, it was a mere design upon

him, and no favor, but an injury.  Then Clodius proudly and

fiercely answered, "If you will not take it as a kindness, you

shall go, though never so unwillingly;" and immediately going

into the assembly of the people, he made them pass a decree, that

Cato should be sent to Cyprus.  But they ordered him neither

ship, nor soldier, nor any attendant, except two secretaries; one

of whom was a thief and a rascal, and the other a retainer to

Clodius.  Besides, as if Cyprus and Ptolemy were not work

sufficient, he was ordered also to restore the refugees of

Byzantium.  For Clodius was resolved to keep him far enough off,

whilst himself continued tribune.

Cato being in this necessity of going away, advised Cicero, who

was next to be set upon, to make no resistance, lest he should

throw the state into civil war and confusion, but to give way to

the times, and thus become once more the preserver of his

country.  He himself sent forward Canidius, one of his friends,

to Cyprus, to persuade Ptolemy to yield, without being forced;

which if he did, he should want neither riches nor honor, for the

Romans would give him the priesthood of the goddess at Paphos.

He himself stayed at Rhodes, making some preparations, and

expecting an answer from Cyprus.  In the meantime, Ptolemy, king

of Egypt, who had left Alexandria, upon some quarrel between him

and his subjects, and was sailing for Rome, in hopes that Pompey

and Caesar would send troops to restore him, in his way thither

desired to see Cato, to whom he sent, supposing he would come to

him.  Cato had taken purging medicine at the time when the

messenger came, and made answer, that Ptolemy had better come to

him, if he thought fit.  And when he came, he neither went

forward to meet him, nor so much as rose up to him, but saluting

him as an ordinary person, bade him sit down.  This at once threw

Ptolemy into some confusion, who was surprised to see such stern

and haughty manners in one who made so plain and unpretending an

appearance; but afterwards, when he began to talk about his

affairs, he was no less astonished at the wisdom and freedom of

his discourse.  For Cato blamed his conduct, and pointed out to

him what honor and happiness he was abandoning, and what

humiliations and troubles he would run himself into; what bribery

he must resort to and what cupidity he would have to satisfy,

when he came to the leading men at Rome, whom all Egypt turned

into silver would scarcely content.  He therefore advised him to

return home, and be reconciled to his subjects, offering to go

along with him, and assist him in composing the differences.  And

by this language Ptolemy being brought to himself, as it might be

out of a fit of madness or delirium and discerning the truth and

wisdom of what Cato said, resolved to follow his advice; but he

was again over-persuaded by his friends to the contrary, and so,

according to his first design, went to Rome.  When he came there,

and was forced to wait at the gate of one of the magistrates, he

began to lament his folly, in having rejected, rather, as it

seemed to him, the oracle of a god, than the advice merely of a

good and wise man.

In the meantime, the other Ptolemy, in Cyprus, very luckily for

Cato, poisoned himself.  It was reported he had left great

riches; therefore Cato designing to go first to Byzantium, sent

his nephew Brutus to Cyprus, as he would not wholly trust

Canidius.  Then, having reconciled the refugees and the people of

Byzantium, he left the city in peace and quietness; and so sailed

to Cyprus, where he found a royal treasure of plate, tables,

precious stones and purple, all which was to be turned into ready

money.  And being determined to do everything with the greatest

exactness, and to raise the price of everything to the utmost, to

this end he was always present at selling the things, and went

carefully into all the accounts.  Nor would he trust to the usual

customs of the market, but looked doubtfully upon all alike, the

officers, criers, purchasers, and even his own friends; and so in

fine he himself talked with the buyers, and urged them to bid

high, and conducted in this manner the greatest part of the

sales.

This mistrustfulness offended others of his friends, and, in

particular, Munatius, the most intimate of them all, became

almost irreconcilable.  And this afforded Caesar the subject of

his severest censures in the book he wrote against Cato.  Yet

Munatius himself relates, that the quarrel was not so much

occasioned by Cato's mistrust, as by his neglect of him, and by

his own jealousy of Canidius.  For Munatius also wrote a book

concerning Cato, which is the chief authority followed by

Thrasea.  Munatius says, that coming to Cyprus after the other,

and having a very poor lodging provided for him, he went to

Cato's house, but was not admitted, because he was engaged in

private with Canidius; of which he afterwards complained in very

gentle terms to Cato, but received a very harsh answer, that too

much love, according to Theophrastus, often causes hatred; "and

you," he said, "because you bear me much love, think you receive

too little honor, and presently grow angry.  I employ Canidius on

account of his industry and his fidelity; he has been with me

from the first, and I have found him to be trusted."  These

things were said in private between them two; but Cato afterwards

told Canidius what had passed; on being informed of which,

Munatius would no more go to sup with him, and when he was

invited to give his counsel, refused to come.  Then Cato

threatened to seize his goods, as was the custom in the case of

those who were disobedient; but Munatius not regarding his

threats, returned to Rome, and continued a long time thus

discontented.  But afterwards, when Cato was come back also,

Marcia, who as yet lived with him, contrived to have them both

invited to sup together at the house of one Barca; Cato came in

last of all, when the rest were laid down, and asked, where he

should be.  Barca answered him, where he pleased; then looking

about, he said, he would be near Munatius, and went and placed

himself next to him; yet he showed him no other mark of kindness,

all the time they were at table together.  But another time, at

the entreaty of Marcia, Cato wrote to Munatius, that he desired

to speak with him.  Munatius went to his house in the morning,

and was kept by Marcia till all the company was gone; then Cato

came, threw both his arms about him, and embraced him very

kindly, and they were reconciled.  I have the more fully related

this passage, for that I think the manners and tempers of men are

more clearly discovered by things of this nature, than by great

and conspicuous actions.

Cato got together little less than seven thousand talents of

silver; but apprehensive of what might happen in so long a voyage

by sea, he provided a great many coffers, that held two talents

and five hundred drachmas apiece; to each of these he fastened a

long rope, and to the other end of the rope a piece of cork, so

that if the ship should miscarry, it might be discovered

thereabout the chests lay under water.  Thus all the money,

except a very little, was safely transported.  But he had made

two books, in which all the accounts of his commission were

carefully written out, and neither of these was preserved.  For

his freedman Philargyrus, who had the charge of one of them,

setting sail from Cenchreae was lost, together with the ship and

all her freight.  And the other Cato himself kept safe, till he

came to Corcyra, but there he set up his tent in the

market-place, and the sailors being very cold in the night, made

a great many fires, some of which caught the tents, so that they

were burnt, and the book lost.  And though he had brought with

him several of Ptolemy's stewards, who could testify to his

integrity, and stop the mouths of enemies and false accusers, yet

the loss annoyed him, and he was vexed with himself about the

matter, as he had designed them not so much for a proof of his

own fidelity, as for a pattern of exactness to others.

The news did not fail to reach Rome, that he was coming up the

river.  All the magistrates, the priests, and the whole senate,

with great part of the people, went out to meet him; both the

banks of the Tiber were covered with people; so that his entrance

was in solemnity and honor not inferior to a triumph.  But it was

thought somewhat strange, and looked like willfulness and pride,

that when the consuls and praetors appeared, he did not

disembark, nor stay to salute them, but rowed up the stream in a

royal galley of six banks of oars, and stopped not till he

brought his vessels to the dock.  However, when the money was

carried through the streets, the people much wondered at the vast

quantity of it, and the senate being assembled, decreed him in

honorable terms an extraordinary praetorship, and also the

privilege of appearing at the public spectacles in a robe faced

with purple.  Cato declined all these honors, but declaring what

diligence and fidelity he had found in Nicias, the steward of

Ptolemy, he requested the senate to give him his freedom.

Philippus, the father of Marcia, was that year consul, and the

authority and power of the office rested in a manner in Cato; for

the other consul paid him no less regard for his virtue's sake,

than Philippus did on account of the connection between them.

And Cicero now being returned from his banishment, into which he

was driven by Clodius, and having again obtained great credit

among the people, went, in the absence of Clodius, and by force

took away the records of his tribuneship, which had been laid up

in the capitol.  Hereupon the senate was assembled, and Clodius

complained of Cicero, who answered, that Clodius was never

legally tribune, and therefore whatever he had done, was void,

and of no authority.  But Cato interrupted him while he spoke,

and at last standing up said, that indeed he in no way justified

or approved of Clodius's proceedings; but if they questioned the

validity of what had been done in his tribuneship, they might

also question what himself had done at Cyprus, for the expedition

was unlawful, if he that sent him had no lawful authority:  for

himself, he thought Clodius wee legally made tribune, who, by

permission of the law, was from a patrician adopted into a

plebeian family; if he had done ill in his office, he ought to be

called to account for it; but the authority of the magistracy

ought not to suffer for the faults of the magistrate.  Cicero

took this ill, and for a long time discontinued his friendship

with Cato; but they were afterwards reconciled.

Pompey and Crassus, by agreement with Caesar, who crossed the

Alps to see them, had formed a design, that they two should stand

to be chosen consuls a second time, and when they should be in

their office, they would continue to Caesar his government for

five years more, and take to themselves the greatest provinces,

with armies and money to maintain them.  This seemed a plain

conspiracy to subvert the constitution and parcel out the empire.

Several men of high character had intended to stand to be consuls

that year, but upon the appearance of these great competitors,

they all desisted, except only Lucius Domitius, who had married

Porcia, the sister of Cato, and was by him persuaded to stand it

out, and not abandon such an undertaking, which, he said, was not

merely to gain the consulship, but to save the liberty of Rome.

In the meantime, it was the common topic among the more prudent

part of the citizens, that they ought not to suffer the power of

Pompey and Crassus to be united, which would then be carried

beyond all bounds, and become dangerous to the state; that

therefore one of them must be denied.  For these reasons they

took part with Domitius, whom they exhorted and encouraged to go

on, assuring him, that many who feared openly to appear for him,

would privately assist him.  Pompey's party fearing this, laid

wait for Domitius, and set upon him as he was going before

daylight, with torches, into the Field.  First he that bore the

light next before Domitius, was knocked down and killed; then

several others being wounded, all the rest fled, except Cato and

Domitius, whom Cato held, though himself were wounded in the arm,

and crying out, conjured the others to stay, and not while they

had any breath, forsake the defense of their liberty against

those tyrants, who plainly showed with what moderation they were

likely to use the power, which they endeavored to gain by such

violence.  But at length Domitius also, no longer willing to face

the danger, fled to his own house, and so Pompey and Crassus were

declared consuls.

Nevertheless, Cato would not give over, but resolved to stand

himself to be praetor that year, which he thought would be some

help to him in his design of opposing them; that he might not act

as a private man, when he was to contend with public magistrates.

Pompey and Crassus apprehended this; and fearing that the office

of praetor in the person of Cato might be equal in authority to

that of consul, they assembled the senate unexpectedly, without

giving any notice to a great many of the senators, and made an

order, that those who were chosen praetors, should immediately

enter upon their office, without attending the usual time, in

which, according to law, they might be accused, if they had

corrupted the people with gifts.  When by this order they had got

leave to bribe freely, without being called to account, they set

up their own friends and dependents to stand for the praetorship,

giving money, and watching the people as they voted.  Yet the

virtue and reputation of Cato was like to triumph over all these

stratagems; for the people generally felt it to be shameful that

a price should be paid for the rejection of Cato, who ought

rather to be paid himself to take upon him the office.  So he

carried it by the voices of the first tribe.  Hereupon Pompey

immediately framed a lie, crying out, it thundered; and straight

broke up the assembly; for the Romans religiously observed this

as a bad omen, and never concluded any matter after it had

thundered.  Before the next time, they had distributed larger

bribes, and driving also the best men out of the Field, by these

foul means they procured Vatinius to be chosen praetor, instead

of Cato.  It is said, that those who had thus corruptly and

dishonestly given their voices, at once, when it was done,

hurried, as if it were in flight, out of the Field.  The others

staying together, and exclaiming at the event, one of the

tribunes continued the assembly, and Cato standing up, as it were

by inspiration, foretold all the miseries that afterward befell

the state, exhorted them to beware of Pompey and Crassus, who

were guilty of such things, and had laid such designs, that they

might well fear to have Cato praetor.  When he had ended this

speech, he was followed to his house by a greater number of

people than were all the new praetors elect put together.

Caius Trebonius now proposed the law for allotting provinces to

the consuls, one of whom was to have Spain and Africa, the other

Egypt and Syria, with full power of making war, and carrying it

on both by sea and land, as they should think fit.  When this was

proposed, all others despaired of putting any stop to it, and

neither did nor said anything against it.  But Cato, before the

voting began, went up into the place of speaking, and desiring to

be heard, was with much difficulty allowed two hours to speak.

Having spent that time in informing them and reasoning with them,

and in foretelling to them much that was to come, he was not

suffered to speak any longer; but as he was going on, a sergeant

came and pulled him down; yet when he was down, he still

continued speaking in a loud voice, and finding many to listen

to him, and join in his indignation.  Then the sergeant took him,

and forced him out of the forum; but as soon as he got loose, he

returned again to the place of speaking, crying out to the people

to stand by him.  When he had done thus several times, Trebonius

grew very angry, and commanded him to be carried to prison; but

the multitude followed him, and listened to the speech which he

made to them, as he went along, so that Trebonius began to be

afraid again, and ordered him to be released.  Thus that day was

expended, and the business staved off by Cato.  But in the days

succeeding, many of the citizens being overawed by fears and

threats, and others won by gifts and favors, Aquillius, one of

the tribunes, they kept by an armed force within the

senate-house; Cato, who cried, it thundered, they drove out of

the forum; many were wounded, and some slain; and at length by

open force they passed the law.  At this many were so incensed,

that they got together, and were going to throw down the statues

of Pompey; but Cato went, and diverted them from that design.

Again, another law was proposed, concerning the provinces and

legions for Caesar.  Upon this occasion Cato did not apply

himself to the people, but appealed to Pompey himself; and told

him, he did not consider now, that he was setting Caesar upon his

own shoulders, who would shortly grow too weighty for him, and at

length, not able to lay down the burden, nor yet to bear it any

longer, he would precipitate both it and himself with it upon the

commonwealth; and then he would remember Cato's advice, which was

no less advantageous to him, than just and honest in itself.

Thus was Pompey often warned, but still disregarded and slighted

it, never mistrusting Caesar's change, and always confiding in

his own power and good fortune.

Cato was made praetor the following year; but, it seems, he did

not do more honor and credit to the office by his signal

integrity, than he disgraced and diminished it by his strange

behavior.  For he would often come to the court without his

shoes, and sit upon the bench without any under garment, and in

this attire would give judgment in capital causes, and upon

persons of the highest rank.  It is said, also, he used to drink

wine after his morning meal, and then transact the business of

his office; but this was wrongfully reported of him.  The people

were at that time extremely corrupted by the gifts of those who

sought offices, and most made a constant trade of selling their

voices.  Cato was eager utterly to root this corruption out of

the commonwealth; he therefore persuaded the senate to make an

order, that those who were chosen into any office, though nobody

should accuse them, should be obliged to come into the court, and

give account upon oath of their proceedings in their election.

This was extremely obnoxious to those who stood for the offices,

and yet more to those vast numbers who took the bribes.  Insomuch

that one morning, as Cato was going to the tribunal, a great

multitude of people flocked together, and with loud cries and

maledictions reviled him, and threw stones at him.  Those that

were about the tribunal presently fled, and Cato himself being

forced thence, and jostled about in the throng, very narrowly

escaped the stones that were thrown at him, and with much

difficulty got hold of the Rostra, where, standing up with a bold

and undaunted countenance, he at once mastered the tumult, and

silenced the clamor; and addressing them in fit terms for the

occasion, was heard with great attention, and perfectly quelled

the sedition.  Afterwards, on the senate commending him for this,

"But I," said he, "do not commend you for abandoning your praetor

in danger, and bringing him no assistance."

In the meantime, the candidates were in great perplexity; for

every one dreaded to give money himself, and yet feared lest his

competitors should.  At length they agreed to lay down one

hundred and twenty-five thousand drachmas apiece, and then all of

them to canvass fairly and honestly, on condition, that if any

one was found to make use of bribery, he should forfeit the

money.  Being thus agreed, they chose Cato to keep the stakes,

and arbitrate the matter; to him they brought the sum concluded

on, and before him subscribed the agreement.  The money he did

not choose to have paid for them, but took their securities who

stood bound for them.  Upon the day of election, he placed

himself by the tribune who took the votes, and very watchfully

observing all that passed, he discovered one who had broken the

agreement, and immediately ordered him to pay his money to the

rest.  They, however, commending his justice highly, remitted the

penalty, as thinking the discovery a sufficient punishment.  It

raised, however, as much envy against Cato as it gained him

reputation, and many were offended at his thus taking upon

himself the whole authority of the senate, the courts of

judicature, and the magistracies.  For there is no virtue, the

honor and credit for which procures a man more odium than that of

justice; and this, because more than any other, it acquires a man

power and authority among the common people.  For they only honor

the valiant and admire the wise, while in addition they also love

just men, and put entire trust and confidence in them.  They fear

the bold man, and mistrust the clever man, and moreover think

them rather beholding; to their natural complexion, than to any

goodness of their will, for these excellences; they look upon

valor as a certain natural strength of the mind, and wisdom as a

constitutional acuteness; whereas a man has it in his power to be

just, if he have but the will to be so, and therefore injustice

is thought the most dishonorable, because it is least excusable.

Cato upon this account was opposed by all the great men, who

thought themselves reproved by his virtue.  Pompey especially

looked upon the increase of Cato's credit, as the ruin of his own

power, and therefore continually set up men to rail against him.

Among these was the seditious Clodius, now again united to

Pompey; who declared openly, that Cato had conveyed away a great

deal of the treasure that was found in Cyprus; and that he hated

Pompey, only because he refused to marry his daughter.  Cato

answered, that although they had allowed him neither horse nor

man, he had brought more treasure from Cyprus alone, than Pompey

had, after so many wars and triumphs, from the ransacked world;

that he never sought the alliance of Pompey; not that he thought

him unworthy of being related to him, but because he differed so

much from him, in things that concerned the commonwealth.  "For,"

said he, "I laid down the province that was given me, when I went

out of my praetorship; Pompey, on the contrary, retains many

provinces for himself; and he bestows many on others; and but now

he sent Caesar a force of six thousand men into Gaul, which

Caesar never asked the people for, nor had Pompey obtained their

consent to give.  Men, and horse, and arms in any number, are

become the mutual gifts of private men to one another; and Pompey

keeping the titles of commander and general, hands over the

armies and provinces to others to govern, while he himself stays

at home to preside at the contests of the canvass, and to stir up

tumults at elections; out of the anarchy he thus creates amongst

us, seeking, we see well enough, a monarchy for himself."  Thus

he retorted on Pompey.

He had an intimate friend and admirer of the name of Marcus

Favonius, much the same to Cato as we are told Apollodorus, the

Phalerian, was in old time to Socrates, whose words used to throw

him into perfect transports and ecstasies, getting into his head,

like strong wine, and intoxicating him to a sort of frenzy.  This

Favonius stood to be chosen aedile, and was like to lose it; but

Cato, who was there to assist him, observed that all the votes

were written in one hand, and discovering the cheat, appealed to

the tribunes, who stopped the election.  Favonius was afterward

chosen aedile, and Cato, who assisted him in all things that

belonged to his office, also undertook the care of the spectacles

that were exhibited in the theater; giving the actors crowns, not

of gold, but of wild olive, such as used to be given at the

Olympic games; and instead of the magnificent presents that were

usually made, he offered to the Greeks beet root, lettuces,

radishes, and pears; and to the Romans, earthen pots of wine,

pork, figs, cucumbers, and little fagots of wood.  Some ridiculed

Cato for his economy, others looked with respect on this gentle

relaxation of his usual rigor and austerity.  In fine, Favonius

himself mingled with the crowd, and sitting among the spectators,

clapped and applauded Cato, bade him bestow rewards on those who

did well, and called on the people to pay their honors to him, as

for himself he had placed his whole authority in Cato's hands.

At the same time, Curio, the colleague of Favonius, gave very

magnificent entertainments in another theater; but the people

left his, and went to those of Favonius, which they much

applauded, and joined heartily in the diversion, seeing him act

the private man, and Cato the master of the shows, who, in fact,

did all this in derision of the great expenses that others

incurred, and to teach them that in amusements men ought to

seek amusement only, and the display of a decent cheerfulness,

not great preparations and costly magnificence, demanding the

expenditure of endless care and trouble about things of little

concern.

After this Scipio, Hypsaeus, and Milo, stood to be consuls, and

that not only with the usual and now recognized disorders of

bribery and corruption, but with arms and slaughter, and every

appearance of carrying their audacity and desperation to the

length of actual civil war.  Whereupon it was proposed, that

Pompey might be empowered to preside over that election.  This

Cato at first opposed, saying that the laws ought not to seek

protection from Pompey, but Pompey from the laws.  Yet the

confusion lasting a long time, the forum continually, as it were,

besieged with three armies, and no possibility appearing of a

stop being put to these disorders, Cato at length agreed, that

rather than fall into the last extremity, the senate should

freely confer all on Pompey, since it was necessary to make use

of a lesser illegality as a remedy against the greatest of all,

and better to set up a monarchy themselves, than to suffer a

sedition to continue, that must certainly end in one.  Bibulus,

therefore, a friend of Cato's, moved the senate to create Pompey

sole consul; for that either he would reestablish the lawful

government, or they should serve under the best master.  Cato

stood up, and, contrary to all expectation, seconded this motion,

concluding, that any government was better than mere confusion,

and that he did not question but Pompey would deal honorably, and

take care of the commonwealth, thus committed to his charge.

Pompey being hereupon declared consul, invited Cato to see him in

the suburbs.  When he came, he saluted and embraced him very

kindly, acknowledged the favor he had done him, and desired his

counsel and assistance, in the management of this office.  Cato

made answer, that what he had spoken on any former occasion was

not out of hate to Pompey, nor what he had now done, out of love

to him, but all for the good of the commonwealth; that in

private, if he asked him, he would freely give his advice; and

in public, though he asked him not, he would always speak his

opinion.  And he did accordingly.  For first, when Pompey made

severe laws for punishing and laying great fines on those who had

corrupted the people with gifts, Cato advised him to let alone

what was already passed, and to provide for the future; for if he

should look up past misdemeanors, it would be difficult to know

where to stop; and if he would ordain new penalties, it would be

unreasonable to punish men by a law, which at that time they had

not the opportunity of breaking.  Afterwards, when many

considerable men, and some of Pompey's own relations were

accused, and he grew remiss, and disinclined to the prosecution,

Cato sharply reproved him, and urged him to proceed.  Pompey had

made a law, also, to forbid the custom of making commendatory

orations in behalf of those that were accused; yet he himself

wrote one for Munatius Plancus, and sent it while the cause was

pleading; upon which Cato, who was sitting as one of the judges,

stopped his ears with his hands, and would not hear it read.

Whereupon Plancus, before sentence was given, excepted against

him, but was condemned notwithstanding.  And indeed Cato was a

great trouble and perplexity to almost all that were accused of

anything, as they feared to have him one of their judges, yet did

not dare to demand his exclusion.  And many had been condemned,

because by refusing him, they seemed to show that they could not

trust their own innocence; and it was a reproach thrown in the

teeth of some by their enemies, that they had not accepted Cato

for their judge.

In the meanwhile, Caesar kept close with his forces in Gaul, and

continued in arms; and at the same time employed his gifts, his

riches, and his friends above all things, to increase his power

in the city.  And now Cato's old admonitions began to rouse

Pompey out of the negligent security in which he lay, into a sort

of imagination of danger at hand; but seeing him slow and

unwilling, and timorous to undertake any measures of prevention

against Caesar, Cato resolved himself to stand for the

consulship, and presently force Caesar either to lay down his

arms or discover his intentions.  Both Cato's competitors were

persons of good position; Sulpicius, who was one, owed much to

Cato's credit and authority in the city, and it was thought

unhandsome and ungratefully done, to stand against him; not that

Cato himself took it ill, "For it is no wonder," said he, "if a

man will not yield to another, in that which he esteems the

greatest good."  He had persuaded the senate to make an order,

that those who stood for offices, should themselves ask the

people for their votes, and not solicit by others, nor take

others about with them, to speak for them, in their canvass.  And

this made the common people very hostile to him, if they were to

lose not only the means of receiving money, but also the

opportunity of obliging several persons, and so to become by his

means both poor and less regarded.  Besides this, Cato himself

was by nature altogether unfit for the business of canvassing, as

he was more anxious to sustain the dignity of his life and

character, than to obtain the office.  Thus by following his own

way of soliciting, and not suffering his friends to do those

things which take with the multitude, he was rejected, and lost

the consulship.

But whereas, upon such occasions, not only those who missed the

office, but even their friends and relations, used to feel

themselves disgraced and humiliated, and observed a sort of

mourning for several days after, Cato took it so unconcernedly,

that he anointed himself, and played at ball in the Field, and

after breakfasting, went into the forum, as he used to do,

without his shoes or his tunic, and there walked about with his

acquaintance.  Cicero blames him, for that when affairs required

such a consul, he would not take more pains, nor condescend to

pay some court to the people, as also because that he afterwards

neglected to try again; whereas he had stood a second time to be

chosen praetor.  Cato answered, that he lost the praetorship the

first time, not by the voice of the people, but by the violence

and corrupt dealing of his adversaries; whereas in the election

of consuls, there had been no foul play.  So that he plainly saw

the people did not like his manners, which an honest man ought

not to alter for their sake; nor yet would a wise man attempt the

same thing again, while liable to the same prejudices.

Caesar was at this time engaged with many warlike nations, and

was subduing them at great hazards.  Among the rest, it was

believed he had set upon the Germans, in a time of truce, and had

thus slain three hundred thousand of them.  Upon which, some of

his friends moved the senate for a public thanksgiving; but Cato

declared, they ought to deliver Caesar into the hands of those

who had been thus unjustly treated, and so expiate the offense

and not bring a curse upon the city; "Yet we have reason," said

he, "to thank the gods, for that they spared the commonwealth,

and did not take vengeance upon the army, for the madness and

folly of the general."  Hereupon Caesar wrote a letter to the

senate, which was read openly, and was full of reproachful

language and accusations against Cato; who, standing up, seemed

not at all concerned, and without any heat or passion, but in a

calm and, as it were, premeditated discourse, made all Caesar's

charges against him show like mere common scolding and abuse, and

in fact a sort of pleasantry and play on Caesar's part; and

proceeding then to go into all Caesar's political courses, and to

explain and reveal (as though he had been not his constant

opponent, but his fellow-conspirator,) his whole conduct and

purpose from its commencement, he concluded by telling the

senate, it was not the sons of the Britons or the Gauls they need

fear, but Caesar himself, if they were wise.  And this discourse

so moved and awakened the senate, that Caesar's friends repented

they had had a letter read, which had given Cato an opportunity

of saying so many reasonable things, and such severe truths

against him.  However, nothing was then decided upon; it was

merely said, that it would be well to send him a successor.  Upon

that Caesar's friends required, that Pompey also should lay down

his arms, and resign his provinces, or else that Caesar might not

be obliged to either.  Then Cato cried out, what he had foretold

was come to pass; now it was manifest he was using his forces to

compel their judgment, and was turning against the state those

armies he had got from it by imposture and trickery.  But out of

the Senate-house Cato could do but little, as the people were

ever ready to magnify Caesar and the senate, though convinced by

Cato, were afraid of the people.

But when the news was brought that Caesar had seized Ariminum,

and was marching with his army toward Rome, then all men, even

Pompey, and the common people too, cast their eyes on Cato, who

had alone foreseen and first clearly declared Caesar's

intentions.  He, therefore, told them, "If you had believed me,

or regarded my advice, you would not now have been reduced to

stand in fear of one man, or to put all your hopes in one alone."

Pompey acknowledged, that Cato indeed had spoken most like a

prophet, while he himself had acted too much like a friend.  And

Cato advised the senate to put all into the hands of Pompey; "For

those who can raise up great evils," said he, "can best allay

them."

Pompey, finding he had not sufficient forces, and that those he

could raise, were not very resolute, forsook the city.  Cato,

resolving to follow Pompey into exile, sent his younger son to

Munatius, who was then in the country of Bruttium, and took his

eldest with him; but wanting somebody to keep his house and take

care of his daughters, he took Marcia again, who was now a rich

widow, Hortensius being dead, and having left her all his estate.

Caesar afterward made use of this action also, to reproach him

with covetousness, and a mercenary design in his marriage.

"For," said he, "if he had need of wife, why did he part with

her?  And if he had not, why did he take her again?  Unless he

gave her only as a bait to Hortensius; and lent her when she was

young, to have her again when she was rich."  But in answer to

this, we might fairly apply the saying of Euripides.

To speak of mysteries — the chief of these

Surely were cowardice in Hercules.

For it is much the same thing to reproach Hercules for cowardice,

and to accuse Cato of covetousness; though otherwise, whether he

did altogether right in this marriage, might be disputed.  As

soon, however, as he had again taken Marcia, he committed his

house and his daughters to her, and himself followed Pompey.  And

it is said, that from that day he never cut his hair, nor shaved

his beard, nor wore a garland, but was always full of sadness,

grief, and dejectedness for the calamities of his country, and

continually showed the same feeling to the last, whatever party

had misfortune or success.

The government of Sicily being allotted to him, he passed over to

Syracuse; where understanding that Asinius Pollio was arrived at

Messena, with forces from the enemy, Cato sent to him, to know

the reason of his coming thither:  Pollio, on the other side,

called upon him to show reason for the present convulsions.  And

being at the same time informed how Pompey had quite abandoned

Italy, and lay encamped at Dyrrhachium, he spoke of the

strangeness and incomprehensibility of the divine government of

things; "Pompey, when he did nothing wisely nor honestly, was

always successful; and now that he would preserve his country,

and defend her liberty, he is altogether unfortunate."  As for

Asinius, he said, he could drive him out of Sicily, but as there

were larger forces coming to his assistance, he would not engage

the island in a war.  He therefore advised the Syracusans to join

the conquering party and provide for their own safety; and so set

sail from thence.

When he came to Pompey, he uniformly gave advice to protract the

war; as he always hoped to compose matters, and was by no means

desirous that they should come to action; for the commonwealth

would suffer extremely, and be the certain cause of its own ruin,

whoever were conqueror by the sword.  In like manner, he

persuaded Pompey and the council to ordain, that no city should

be sacked that was subject to the people of Rome; and that no

Roman should be killed, but in the heat of battle; and hereby he

got himself great honor, and brought over many to Pompey's party,

whom his moderation and humanity attracted.  Afterwards being

sent into Asia, to assist those who were raising men, and

preparing ships in those parts, he took with him his sister

Servilia, and a little boy whom she had by Lucullus.  For since

her widowhood, she had lived with her brother, and much recovered

her reputation, having put herself under his care, followed him

in his voyages, and complied with his severe way of living.  Yet

Caesar did not fail to asperse him upon her account also.

Pompey's officers in Asia, it seems, had no great need of Cato;

but he brought over the people of Rhodes by his persuasions, and

leaving his sister Servilia and her child there, he returned to

Pompey, who had now collected very great forces both by sea and

land.  And here Pompey, more than in any other act, betrayed his

intentions.  For at first he designed to give Cato the command of

the navy, which consisted of no less than five hundred ships of

war, besides a vast number of light galleys, scouts, and open

boats.  But presently bethinking himself, or put in mind by his

friends, that Cato's principal and only aim being to free his

country from all usurpation, if he were master of such great

forces, as soon as ever Caesar should be conquered, he would

certainly call upon Pompey, also, to lay down his arms, and be

subject to the laws, he changed his mind, and though he had

already mentioned it to Cato, nevertheless made Bibulus admiral.

Notwithstanding this, he had no reason to suppose that Cato's

zeal in the cause was in any way diminished.  For before one of

the battles at Dyrrhachium, when Pompey himself, we are told,

made an address to the soldiers and bade the officers do the

like, the men listened to them but coldly, and with silence,

until Cato, last of all, came forward, and in the language of

philosophy, spoke to them, as the occasion required, concerning

liberty, manly virtue, death, and a good name; upon all which he

delivered himself with strong natural passion, and concluded with

calling in the aid of the gods, to whom he directed his speech,

as if they were present to behold them fight for their country.

And at this the army gave such a shout and showed such

excitement, that their officers led them on full of hope and

confidence to the danger.  Caesar's party were routed, and put to

flight; but his presiding fortune used the advantage of Pompey's

cautiousness and diffidence, to render the victory incomplete.

But of this we have spoken in the life of Pompey.  While,

however, all the rest rejoiced, and magnified their success, Cato

alone bewailed his country, and cursed that fatal ambition, which

made so many brave Romans murder one another.

After this, Pompey following Caesar into Thessaly, left at

Dyrrhachium a quantity of munitions, money, and stores, and many

of his domestics and relations; the charge of all which he gave

to Cato, with the command only of fifteen cohorts.  For though he

trusted him much, yet he was afraid of him too, knowing full

well, that if he had bad success, Cato would be the last to

forsake him, but if he conquered, would never let him use his

victory at his pleasure.  There were, likewise, many persons of

high rank that stayed with Cato at Dyrrhachium.  When they heard

of the overthrow at Pharsalia, Cato resolved with himself, that

if Pompey were slain, he would conduct those that were with him

into Italy, and then retire as far from the tyranny of Caesar as

he could, and live in exile; but if Pompey were safe, he would

keep the army together for him.  With this resolution he passed

over to Corcyra, where the navy lay, there he would have resigned

his command to Cicero, because he had been consul, and himself

only a praetor:  but Cicero refused it, and was going for Italy.

At which Pompey's son being incensed, would rashly and in heat

have punished all those who were going away, and in the first

place have laid hands on Cicero; but Cato spoke with him in

private, and diverted him from that design.  And thus he clearly

saved the life of Cicero, and rescued several others also from

ill-treatment.

Conjecturing that Pompey the Great was fled toward Egypt or

Africa, Cato resolved to hasten after him; and having taken all

his men aboard, he set sail; but first to those who were not

zealous to continue the contest, he gave free liberty to depart.

When they came to the coast of Africa, they met with Sextus,

Pompey's younger son, who told them of the death of his father in

Egypt; at which they were all exceedingly grieved, and declared

that after Pompey they would follow no other leader but Cato.

Out of compassion therefore to so many worthy persons, who had

given such testimonies of their fidelity, and whom he could not

for shame leave in a desert country, amidst so many difficulties,

he took upon him the command, and marched toward the city of

Cyrene, which presently received him, though not long before they

had shut their gates against Labienus.  Here he was informed that

Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, was received by king Juba, and

that Attius Varus, whom Pompey had made governor of Africa, had

joined them with his forces.  Cato therefore resolved to march

toward them by land, it being now winter; and got together a

number of asses to carry water, and furnished himself likewise

with plenty of all other provision, and a number of carriages.

He took also with him some of those they call Psylli, who cure

the biting of serpents, by sucking out the poison with their

mouths, and have likewise certain charms, by which they stupefy

and lay asleep the serpents.

Thus they marched seven days together, Cato all the time going on

foot at the head of his men, and never making use of any horse or

chariot.  Ever since the battle of Pharsalia, he used to sit at

table, and added this to his other ways of mourning, that he

never lay down but to sleep.

Having passed the winter in Africa, Cato drew out his army, which

amounted to little less than ten thousand.  The affairs of Scipio

and Varus went very ill, by reason of their dissensions and

quarrels among themselves, and their submissions and flatteries

to king Juba, who was insupportable for his vanity, and the pride

he took in his strength and riches.  The first time he came to a

conference with Cato, he had ordered his own seat to be placed in

the middle, between Scipio and Cato; which Cato observing, took

up his chair, and set himself on the other side of Scipio, to

whom he thus gave the honor of sitting in the middle, though he

were his enemy, and had formerly published some scandalous

writing against him.  There are people who speak as if this were

quite an insignificant matter, and who nevertheless find fault

with Cato, because in Sicily, walking one day with Philostratus,

he gave him the middle place, to show his respect for philosophy.

However, he now succeeded both in humbling the pride of Juba, who

was treating Scipio and Varus much like a pair of satraps under

his orders, and also in reconciling them to each other.  All the

troops desired him to be their leader; Scipio, likewise, and

Varus gave way to it, and offered him the command; but he said,

he would not break those laws, which he sought to defend, and he,

being, but propraetor, ought not to command in the presence of a

proconsul, (for Scipio had been created proconsul,) besides that

people took it as a good omen; to see a Scipio command in Africa,

and the very name inspired the soldiers with hopes of success.

Scipio, having taken upon him the command, presently resolved, at

the instigation of Juba, to put all the inhabitants of Utica to

the sword, and to raze the city, for having, as they professed,

taken part with Caesar.  Cato would by no means suffer this; but

invoking the gods, exclaiming and protesting against it in the

council of war, he with much difficulty delivered the poor people

from this cruelty.  And afterwards, upon the entreaty of the

inhabitants, and at the instance of Scipio, Cato took upon

himself the government of Utica, lest, one way or other, it

should fall into Caesar's hands; for it was a strong place, and

very advantageous for either party.  And it was yet better

provided and more strongly fortified by Cato, who brought in

great store of corn, repaired the walls, erected towers, and made

deep trenches and palisades around the town.  The young men of

Utica he lodged among these works, having first taken their arms

from them; the rest of the inhabitants he kept within the town,

and took the greatest care, that no injury should be done nor

affront offered them by the Romans.  From hence he sent great

quantity of arms, money, and provision to the camp, and made this

city their chief magazine.

He advised Scipio, as he had before done Pompey, by no means to

hazard a battle against a man experienced in war, and formidable

in the field, but to use delay; for time would gradually abate

the violence of the crisis, which is the strength of usurpation.

But Scipio out of pride rejected this counsel, and wrote a letter

to Cato, in which he reproached him with cowardice; and that he

could not be content to lie secure himself within walls and

trenches, but he must hinder others from boldly using their own

good-sense to seize the right opportunity.  In answer to this,

Cato wrote word again, that he would take the horse and foot

which he had brought into Africa, and go over into Italy, to make

a diversion there, and draw Caesar off from them.  But Scipio

derided this proposition also.  Then Cato openly let it be seen

that he was sorry he had yielded the command to Scipio, who he

saw would not carry on the war with any wisdom, and if, contrary

to all appearance, he should succeed, he would use his success as

unjustly at home.  For Cato had then made up his mind, and so he

told his friends, that he could have but slender hopes in those

generals that had so much boldness, and so little conduct; yet if

anything should happen beyond expectation, and Caesar should be

overthrown, for his part he would not stay at Rome, but would

retire from the cruelty and inhumanity of Scipio, who had already

uttered fierce and proud threats against many.

But what Cato had looked for, fell out sooner than he expected.

Late in the evening came one from the army, whence he had been

three days coming, who brought word there had been a great battle

near Thapsus; that all was utterly lost; Caesar had taken the

camps, Scipio and Juba were fled with a few only, and all the

rest of the army was lost.  This news arriving in time of war,

and in the night, so alarmed the people, that they were almost

out of their wits, and could scarce keep themselves within the

walls of the city.  But Cato came forward, and meeting the people

in this hurry and clamor, did all he could to comfort and

encourage them, and somewhat appeased the fear and amazement they

were in, telling them that very likely things were not so bad in

truth, but much exaggerated in the report.  And so he pacified

the tumult for the present.  The next morning, he sent for the

three hundred, whom he used as his council; these were Romans,

who were in Africa upon business, in commerce and money-lending;

there were also several senators and their sons.  They were

summoned to meet in the temple of Jupiter.  While they were

coming together, Cato walked about very quietly and unconcerned,

as if nothing new had happened.  He had a book in his hand, which

he was reading; in this book was an account of what provision he

had for war, armor, corn, ammunition and soldiers.

When they were assembled, he began his discourse; first, as

regarded the three hundred themselves, and very much commended

the courage and fidelity they had shown, and their having very

well served their country with their persons, money, and counsel.

Then he entreated them by no means to separate, as if each single

man could hope for any safety in forsaking his companions; on

the contrary, while they kept together, Caesar would have less

reason to despise them, if they fought against him, and be more

forward to pardon them, if they submitted to him.  Therefore, he

advised them to consult among themselves, nor should he find

fault, whichever course they adopted.  If they thought fit to

submit to fortune, he would impute their change to necessity; but

if they resolved to stand firm, and undertake the danger for the

sake of liberty, he should not only commend, but admire their

courage, and would himself be their leader and companion too,

till they had put to the proof the utmost fortune of their

country; which was not Utica or Adrumetum, but Rome, and she had

often, by her own greatness, raised herself after worse

disasters.  Besides, as there were many things that would conduce

to their safety, so chiefly this, that they were to fight against

one whose affairs urgently claimed his presence in various

quarters.  Spain was already revolted to the younger Pompey; Rome

was unaccustomed to the bridle, and impatient of it, and would

therefore be ready to rise in insurrection upon any turn of

affairs.  As for themselves, they ought not to shrink from the

danger; and in this might take example from their enemy, who so

freely exposes his life to effect the most unrighteous designs,

yet never can hope for so happy a conclusion, as they may promise

themselves; for notwithstanding the uncertainty of war, they will

be sure of a most happy life, if they succeed, or a most glorious

death, if they miscarry.  However, he said, they ought to

deliberate among themselves, and he joined with them in praying

the gods that in recompense of their former courage and goodwill,

they would prosper their present determinations.  When Cato had

thus spoken, many were moved and encouraged by his arguments, but

the greatest part were so animated by the sense of his

intrepidity, generosity, and goodness, that they forgot the

present danger, and as if he were the only invincible leader, and

above all fortune, they entreated him to employ their persons,

arms, and estates, as he thought fit; for they esteemed it far

better to meet death in following his counsel, than to find their

safety in betraying one of so great virtue.  One of the assembly

proposed the making a decree, to set the slaves at liberty; and

most of the rest approved the motion.  Cato said, that it ought

not to be done, for it was neither just nor lawful; but if any of

their masters would willingly set them free, those that were fit

for service should be received.  Many promised so to do; whose

names he ordered to be enrolled, and then withdrew.

Presently after this, he received letters from Juba and Scipio.

Juba, with some few of his men, was retired to a mountain, where

he waited to hear what Cato would resolve upon; and intended to

stay there for him, if he thought fit to leave Utica, or to come

to his aid with his troops, if he were besieged.  Scipio was on

shipboard, near a certain promontory, not far from Utica,

expecting an answer upon the same account.  But Cato thought fit

to retain the messengers, till the three hundred should come to

some resolution,

As for the senators that were there, they showed great

forwardness, and at once set free their slaves, and furnished

them with arms.  But the three hundred being men occupied in

merchandise and money-lending, much of their substance also

consisting in slaves, the enthusiasm that Cato's speech had

raised in them, did not long continue.  As there are substances

that easily admit heat, and as suddenly lose it, when the fire is

removed, so these men were heated and inflamed, while Cato was

present; but when they began to reason among themselves, the

fear they had of Caesar, soon overcame their reverence for Cato

and for virtue.  "For who are we," said they, "and who is it we

refuse to obey?  Is it not that Caesar, who is now invested with

all the power of Rome? and which of us is a Scipio, a Pompey, or

a Cato?  But now that all men make their honor give way to their

fear, shall we alone engage for the liberty of Rome, and in Utica

declare war against him, before whom Cato and Pompey the Great

fled out of Italy?  Shall we set free our slaves against Caesar,

who have ourselves no more liberty than he is pleased to allow?

No, let us, poor creatures, know ourselves, submit to the victor,

and send deputies to implore his mercy."  Thus said the most

moderate of them; but the greatest part were for seizing the

senators, that by securing them, they might appease Caesar's

anger.  Cato, though he perceived the change, took no notice of

it; but wrote to Juba and Scipio to keep away from Utica, because

he mistrusted the three hundred.

A considerable body of horse, which had escaped from the late

fight, riding up towards Utica, sent three men before to Cato,

who yet did not all bring the same message; for one party was for

going to Juba, another for joining with Cato, and some again were

afraid to go into Utica.  When Cato heard this, he ordered Marcus

Rubrius to attend upon the three hundred, and quietly take the

names of those who of their own accord set their slaves at

liberty, but by no means to force anybody.  Then, taking with him

the senators, he went out of the town, and met the principal

officers of these horsemen, whom he entreated not to abandon so

many Roman senators, nor to prefer Juba for their commander

before Cato, but consult the common safety, and to come into the

city, which was impregnable, and well furnished with corn and

other provision, sufficient for many years.  The senators,

likewise, with tears besought them to stay.  Hereupon the

officers went to consult their soldiers, and Cato with the

senators sat down upon an embankment, expecting their resolution.

In the meantime comes Rubrius in great disorder, crying out, the

three hundred were all in commotion, and exciting revolt and

tumult in the city.  At this all the rest fell into despair,

lamenting and bewailing their condition.  Cato endeavored to

comfort them, and sent to the three hundred, desiring them to

have patience.  Then the officers of the horse returned with no

very reasonable demands.  They said, they did not desire to serve

Juba, for his pay, nor should they fear Caesar, while they

followed Cato, but they dreaded to be shut up with the Uticans,

men of traitorous temper, and Carthaginian blood; for though they

were quiet at present, yet as soon as Caesar should appear,

without doubt they would conspire together, and betray the

Romans.  Therefore, if he expected they should join with him, he

must drive out of the town or destroy all the Uticans, that he

might receive them into a place clear both of enemies and

barbarians.  This Cato thought utterly cruel and barbarous; but

he mildly answered, he would consult the three hundred.

Then he returned to the city, where he found the men, not framing

excuses, or dissembling out of reverence to him, but openly

declaring that no one should compel them to make war against

Caesar; which, they said, they were neither able nor willing to

do.  And some there were who muttered words about retaining the

senators till Caesar's coming; but Cato seemed not to hear this,

as indeed he had the excuse of being a little deaf.  At the same

time came one to him, and told him the horse were going away.

And now, fearing lest the three hundred should take some

desperate resolution concerning the senators, he presently went

out with some of his friends, and seeing they were gone some way,

he took horse, and rode after them.  They, when they saw him

coming, were very glad, and received him very kindly, entreating

him to save himself with them.  At this time, it is said, Cato

shed tears, while entreating them on behalf of the senators, and

stretching out his hands in supplication.  He turned some of

their horses' heads, and laid hold of the men by their armor,

till in fine he prevailed with them, out of compassion, to stay

only that one day, to procure a safe retreat for the senators.

Having thus persuaded them to go along with him, some he placed

at the gates of the town, and to others gave the charge of the

citadel.  The three hundred began to fear they should suffer for

their inconstancy, and sent to Cato, entreating him by all means

to come to them; but the senators flocking about him, would not

suffer him to go, and said they would not trust their guardian

and savior to the hands of perfidious traitors.

For there had never, perhaps, been a time when Cato's virtue

appeared more manifestly; and every class of men in Utica could

clearly see, with sorrow and admiration, how entirely free was

everything that he was doing from any secret motives or any

mixture of self-regard; he, namely, who had long before resolved

on his own death, was taking such extreme pains, toil, and care,

only for the sake of others, that when he had secured their

lives, he might put an end to his own.  For it was easily

perceived, that he had determined to die, though he did not let

it appear.

Therefore, having pacified the senators, he complied with the

request of the three hundred, and went to them alone without any

attendance.  They gave him many thanks, and entreated him to

employ and trust them for the future; and if they were not Catos,

and could not aspire to his greatness of mind, they begged he

would pity their weakness; and told him, they had determined to

send to Caesar and entreat him, chiefly and in the first place,

for Cato, and if they could not prevail for him, they would not

accept of pardon for themselves, but as long as they had breath,

would fight in his defense.  Cato commended their good

intentions, and advised them to send speedily, for their own

safety, but by no means to ask anything in his behalf; for those

who are conquered, entreat, and those who have done wrong, beg

pardon; for himself, he did not confess to any defeat in all his

life, but rather, so far as he had thought fit, he had got the

victory, and had conquered Caesar in all points of justice and

honesty.  It was Caesar that ought to be looked upon as one

surprised and vanquished; for he was now convicted and found

guilty of those designs against his country, which he had so long

practiced and so constantly denied.  When he had thus spoken, he

went out of the assembly, and being informed that Caesar was

coming with his whole army, "Ah," said he, "he expects to find us

brave men."  Then he went to the senators, and urged them to make

no delay, but hasten to be gone, while the horsemen were yet in

the city.  So ordering all the gates to be shut, except one

towards the sea, he assigned their several ships to those that

were to depart, and gave money and provision to those that

wanted; all which he did with great order and exactness, taking

care to suppress all tumults, and that no wrong should be done to

the people.

Marcus Octavius, coming with two legions, now encamped near

Utica, and sent to Cato, to arrange about the chief command.

Cato returned him no answer; but said to his friends, "Can we

wonder all has gone ill with us, when our love of office survives

even in our very ruin?"  In the meantime, word was brought him,

that the horse were going away, and were beginning to spoil and

plunder the citizens.  Cato ran to them, and from the first he

met, snatched what they had taken; the rest threw down all they

had gotten, and went away silent, and ashamed of what they had

done.  Then he called together all the people of Utica, and

requested them upon the behalf of the three hundred, not to

exasperate Caesar against them, but all to seek their common

safety together with them.  After that, he went again to the

port, to see those who were about to embark; and there he

embraced and dismissed those of his friends and acquaintance whom

he had persuaded to go.  As for his son, he did not counsel him

to be gone, nor did he think fit to persuade him to forsake his

father.  But there was one Statyllius, a young man, in the flower

of his age, of a brave spirit, and very desirous to imitate the

constancy of Cato.  Cato entreated him to go away, as he was a

noted enemy to Caesar, but without success.  Then Cato looked at

Apollonides, the stoic philosopher, and Demetrius, the

peripatetic; "It belongs to you," said he, "to cool the fever of

this young man's spirit, and to make him know what is good for

him."  And thus, in setting his friends upon their way, and in

dispatching the business of any that applied to him, he spent

that night, and the greatest part of the next day.

Lucius Caesar, a kinsman of Caesar's, being appointed to go

deputy for the three hundred, came to Cato, and desired he would

assist him to prepare a persuasive speech for them; "And as to

you yourself," said he, "it will be an honor for me to kiss the

hands and fall at the knees of Caesar, in your behalf."  But Cato

would by no means permit him to do any such thing; "For as to

myself," said he, "if I would be preserved by Caesar's favor, I

should myself go to him; but I would not be beholden to a tyrant,

for his acts of tyranny.  For it is but usurpation in him to

save, as their rightful lord, the lives of men over whom he has

no title to reign.  But if you please, let us consider what you

had best say for the three hundred."  And when they had continued

some time together, as Lucius was going away, Cato recommended to

him his son, and the rest of his friends; and taking him by the

hand, bade him farewell.

Then he retired to his house again, and called together his son

and his friends, to whom he conversed on various subjects; among

the rest, he forbade his son to engage himself in the affairs of

state.  For to act therein as became him, was now impossible; and

to do otherwise, would be dishonorable.  Toward evening he went

into his bath.  As he was bathing, he remembered Statyllius, and

called out aloud, "Apollonides, have you tamed the high spirit of

Statyllius, and is he gone without bidding us farewell?"  "No,"

said Apollonides, "I have said much to him, but to little

purpose; he is still resolute and unalterable, and declares he is

determined to follow your example."  At this, it is said, Cato

smiled, and answered, "That will soon be tried."

After he had bathed, he went to supper, with a great deal of

company; at which he sat up, as he had always used to do ever

since the battle of Pharsalia; for since that time he never lay

down, but when he went to sleep.  There supped with him all his

own friends and the magistrates of Utica.

After supper, the wine produced a great deal of lively and

agreeable discourse, and a whole series of philosophical

questions was discussed.  At length they came to the strange

dogmas of the stoics, called their Paradoxes; and to this in

particular, That the good man only is free, and that all wicked

men are slaves.  The peripatetic, as was to be expected, opposing

this, Cato fell upon him very warmly; and somewhat raising his

voice, he argued the matter at great length, and urged the point

with such vehemence, that it was apparent to everybody, he was

resolved to put an end to his life, and set himself at liberty.

And so, when he had done speaking, there was a great silence, and

evident dejection.  Cato, therefore, to divert them from any

suspicion of his design, turned the conversation, and began again

to talk of matters of present interest and expectation, showing

great concern for those that were at sea, as also for the others,

who, traveling by land, were to pass through a dry and barbarous

desert.

When the company was broke up, he walked with his friends, as he

used to do after supper, gave the necessary orders to the

officers of the watch, and going into his chamber, he embraced

his son and every one of his friends with more than usual warmth,

which again renewed their suspicion of his design.  Then laying

himself down, he took into his hand Plato's dialogue concerning

the soul.  Having read more than half the book, he looked up, and

missing his sword, which his son had taken away while he was at

supper, he called his servant, and asked, who had taken away his

sword.  The servant making no answer, he fell to reading again;

and a little after, not seeming importunate, or hasty for it, but

as if he would only know what was become of it, he bade it be

brought.  But having waited some time, when he had read through

the book, and still nobody brought the sword, he called up all

his servants, and in a louder tone demanded his sword.  To one of

them he gave such a blow in the mouth, that he hurt his own hand;

and now grew more angry, exclaiming that he was betrayed and

delivered naked to the enemy by his son and his servants.  Then

his son, with the rest of his friends, came running, into the

room, and falling at his feet, began to lament and beseech him.

But Cato raising up himself, and looking fiercely, "When," said

he, "and how did I become deranged, and out of my senses, that

thus no one tries to persuade me by reason, or show me what is

better, if I am supposed to be ill-advised?  Must I be disarmed,

and hindered from using my own reason?  And you, young man, why

do not you bind your father's hands behind him, that when Caesar

comes, he may find me unable to defend myself?  To dispatch

myself I want no sword; I need but hold my breath awhile, or

strike my head against the wall."

When he had thus spoken, his son went weeping out of the chamber,

and with him all the rest, except Demetrius and Apollollides, to

whom, being left alone with him, he began to speak more calmly.

"And you," said he, "do you also think to keep a man of my age

alive by force, and to sit here and silently watch me?  Or do you

bring me some reasons to prove, that it will not be base and

unworthy for Cato, when he can find his safety no other way, to

seek it from his enemy?  If so, adduce your arguments, and show

cause why we should now unlearn what we formerly were taught, in

order that rejecting all the convictions in which we lived, we

may now by Caesar's help grow wiser, and be yet more obliged to

him, than for life only.  Not that I have determined aught

concerning myself, but I would have it in my power to perform

what I shall think fit to resolve; and I shall not fail to take

you as my advisers, in holding counsel, as I shall do, with the

doctrines which your philosophy teaches; in the meantime, do not

trouble yourselves; but go tell my son, that he should not compel

his father to what he cannot persuade him to."  They made him no

answer, but went weeping out of the chamber.  Then the sword

being brought in by a little boy, Cato took it, drew it out, and

looked at it; and when he saw the point was good, "Now," said he,

"I am master of myself;" and laying down the sword, he took his

book again, which, it is related, he read twice over.  After this

he slept so soundly, that he was heard to snore by those that

were without.

About midnight, he called up two of his freedmen, Cleanthes, his

physician, and Butas, whom he chiefly employed in public

business.  Him he sent to the port, to see if all his friends had

sailed; to the physician he gave his hand to be dressed, as it

was swollen with the blow he had struck one of his servants.  At

this they all rejoiced, hoping that now he designed to live.

Butas, after a while, returned, and brought word they were all

gone except Crassus, who had stayed about some business, but was

just ready to depart; he said, also, that the wind was high, and

the sea very rough.  Cato, on hearing this, sighed, out of

compassion to those who were at sea, and sent Butas again, to see

if any of them should happen to return for anything they wanted,

and to acquaint him therewith.

Now the birds began to sing, and he again fell into a little

slumber.  At length Butas came back, and told him, all was quiet

in the port.  Then Cato, laying himself down, as if he would

sleep out the rest of the night, bade him shut the door after

him.  But as soon as Butas was gone out, he took his sword, and

stabbed it into his breast; yet not being able to use his hand so

well, on account of the swelling, he did not immediately die of

the wound; but struggling, fell off the bed, and throwing down a

little mathematical table that stood by, made such a noise, that

the servants, hearing it, cried out.  And immediately his son and

all his friends came into the chamber, where seeing him lie

weltering in his blood, great part of his bowels out of his body,

but himself still alive and able to look at them, they all stood

in horror.  The physician went to him, and would have put in his

bowels, which were not pierced, and sewed up the wound; but Cato,

recovering himself, and understanding the intention, thrust away

the physician, plucked out his own bowels, and tearing open the

wound, immediately expired.

In less time than one would think his own family could have known

this accident, all the three hundred were at the door.  And a

little after, the people of Utica flocked thither, crying out

with one voice, he was their benefactor and their savior, the

only free and only undefeated man.  At the very same time, they

had news that Caesar was coming; yet neither fear of the present

danger, nor desire to flatter the conqueror, nor the commotions

and discord among themselves, could divert them from doing honor

to Cato.  For they sumptuously set out his body, made him a

magnificent funeral, and buried him by the seaside, where now

stands his statue, holding a sword.  And only when this had been

done, they returned to consider of preserving themselves and

their city.

Caesar had been informed that Cato stayed at Utica, and did not

seek to fly; that he had sent away the rest of the Romans, but

himself, with his son and a few of his friends, continued there

very unconcernedly, so that he could not imagine what might be

his design.  But having a great consideration for the man, he

hastened thither with his army.  When he heard of his death, it

is related he said these words, "Cato, I grudge you your death,

as you have grudged me the preservation of your life."  And,

indeed, if Cato would have suffered himself to owe his life to

Caesar, he would not so much have impaired his own honor, as

augmented the other's glory.  What would have been done, of

course we cannot know, but from Caesar's usual clemency, we may

guess what was most likely.

Cato was forty-eight years old when he died.  His son suffered no

injury from Caesar; but, it is said, he grew idle, and was

thought to be dissipated among women.  In Cappadocia, he stayed

at the house of Marphadates, one of the royal family there, who

had a very handsome wife; and continuing his visit longer than

was suitable, he made himself the subject of various epigrams;

such as, for example,

Tomorrow, (being the thirtieth day),

Cato, 't is thought, will go away;

Porcius and Marphadates, friends so true,

One Soul, they say, suffices for the two,

that being the name of the woman, and so again,

To Cato's greatness every one confesses,

A royal Soul he certainly possesses.

But all these stains were entirely wiped off by the bravery of

his death.  For in the battle of Philippi, where he fought for

his country's liberty against Caesar and Antony, when the ranks

were breaking, he, scorning to fly, or to escape unknown, called

out to the enemy, showed himself to them in the front, and

encouraged those of his party who stayed; and at length fell, and

left his enemies full of admiration of his valor.

Nor was the daughter of Cato inferior to the rest of her family,

for sober-living and greatness of spirit.  She was married to

Brutus, who killed Caesar; was acquainted with the conspiracy,

and ended her life as became one of her birth and virtue.  All

which is related in the life of Brutus.

Statyllius, who said he would imitate Cato, was at that time

hindered by the philosophers, when he would have put an end to

his life.  He afterward followed Brutus, to whom he was very

faithful and very serviceable, and died in the field of Philippi.

AGIS

The fable of Ixion, who, embracing a cloud instead of Juno,

begot the Centaurs, has been ingeniously enough supposed to have

been invented to represent to us ambitious men, whose minds,

doting on glory, which is a mere image of virtue, produce

nothing that is genuine or uniform, but only, as might be

expected of such a conjunction, misshapen and unnatural actions.

Running after their emulations and passions, and carried away by

the impulses of the moment, they may say with the herdsmen, in

the tragedy of Sophocles,

We follow these, though born their rightful lords,

And they command us, though they speak no words.

For this is indeed the true condition of men in public life,

who, to gain the vain title of being the people's leaders and

governors, are content to make themselves the slaves and

followers of all the people's humors and caprices.  For as the

look-out men at the ship's prow, though they see what is ahead

before the men at the helm, yet constantly look back to the

pilots there, and obey the orders they give; so these men

steered, as I may say, by popular applause, though they bear the

name of governors, are in reality the mere underlings of the

multitude.  The man who is completely wise and virtuous, has no

need at all of glory, except so far as it disposes and eases his

way to action by the greater trust that it procures him.  A

young man, I grant, may be permitted, while yet eager for

distinction, to pride himself a little in his good deeds; for

(as Theophrastus says) his virtues, which are yet tender and, as

it were, in the blade, cherished and supported by praises, grow

stronger, and take the deeper root.  But when this passion is

exorbitant, it is dangerous in all men, and in those who govern

a commonwealth, utterly destructive.  For in the possession of

large power and authority, it transports men to a degree of

madness; so that now they no more think what is good, glorious,

but will have those actions only esteemed good that are

glorious.  As Phocion, therefore, answered king Antipater, who

sought his approbation of some unworthy action, "I cannot be

your flatterer, and your friend," so these men should answer the

people, "I cannot govern, and obey you."  For it may happen to

the commonwealth, as to the serpent in the fable, whose tail,

rising in rebellion against the head, complained, as of a great

grievance, that it was always forced to follow, and required

that it should be permitted by turns to lead the way.  And

taking the command accordingly, it soon indicted by its

senseless courses mischiefs in abundance upon itself, while the

head was torn and lacerated with following, contrary to nature,

a guide that was deaf and blind.  And such we see to have been

the lot of many, who, submitting to be guided by the

inclinations of an uninformed and unreasoning multitude, could

neither stop, nor recover themselves out of the confusion.

This is what has occurred to us to say, of that glory which

depends on the voice of large numbers, considering the sad

effects of it in the misfortunes of Caius and Tiberius Gracchus,

men of noble nature, and whose generous natural dispositions

were improved by the best of educations, and who came to the

administration of affairs with the most laudable intentions; yet

they were ruined, I cannot say by an immoderate desire of glory,

but by a more excusable fear of disgrace.  For being excessively

beloved and favored by the people, they thought it a discredit

to them not to make full repayment, endeavoring by new public

acts to outdo the honors they had received, and again, because

of these new kindnesses, incurring yet further distinctions;

till the people and they, mutually inflamed, and vieing thus

with each other in honors and benefits, brought things at last

to such a pass, that they might say that to engage so far was

indeed a folly, but to retreat would now be a shame.

This the reader will easily gather from the story.  I will now

compare with them two Lacedaemonian popular leaders, the kings

Agis and Cleomenes.  For they, being desirous also to raise the

people, and to restore the noble and just form of government,

now long fallen into disuse, incurred the hatred of the rich and

powerful, who could not endure to be deprived of the selfish

enjoyments to which they were accustomed.  These were not indeed

brothers by nature, as the two Romans, but they had a kind of

brotherly resemblance in their actions and designs, which took a

rise from such beginnings and occasions as I am now about to

relate.

When the love of gold and silver had once gained admittance into

the Lacedaemonian commonwealth, it was quickly followed by

avarice and baseness of spirit in the pursuit of it, and by

luxury, effeminacy, and prodigality in the use.  Then Sparta

fell from almost all her former virtue and repute, and so

continued till the days of Agis and Leonidas, who both together

were kings of the Lacedaemonians.

Agis was of the royal family of Eurypon, son of Eudamidas, and

the sixth in descent from Agesilaus, who made the expedition

into Asia, and was the greatest man of his time in Greece.

Agesilaus left behind him a son called Archidamus, the same who

was slain at Mandonium, in Italy, by the Messapians, and who

was then succeeded by his eldest son Agis.  He being killed by

Antipater near Megalopolis, and leaving no issue, was succeeded

by his brother Eudamidas; he, by a son called Archidamus; and

Archidamus, by another Eudamidas, the father of this Agis of

whom we now treat.

Leonidas, son of Cleonymus, was of the other royal house of the

Agiadae, and the eighth in descent from Pausanias, who defeated

Mardonius in the battle of Plataea.  Pausanias was succeeded by

a son called Plistoanax; and he, by another Pausanias, who was

banished, and lived as a private man at Tegea; while his eldest

son Agesipolis reigned in his place.  He, dying without issue,

was succeeded by a younger brother, called Cleombrotus, who left

two sons; the elder was Agesipolis, who reigned but a short

time, and died without issue; the younger, who then became king,

was called Cleomenes, and had also two sons, Acrotatus and

Cleonymus.  The first died before his father, but left a son

called Areus, who succeeded, and being slain at Corinth, left

the kingdom to his son Acrotatus.  This Acrotatus was defeated,

and slain near Megalopolis, in a battle against the tyrant

Aristodemus; he left his wife big with child, and on her being

delivered of a son, Leonidas, son of the above-named Cleonymus,

was made his guardian, and as the young king died before

becoming a man, he succeeded in the kingdom.

Leonidas was a king not particularly suitable to his people.

For though there were at that time at Sparta a general decline

in manners, yet a greater revolt from the old habits appeared in

him than in others.  For having lived a long time among the

great lords of Persia, and been a follower of king Seleucus, he

unadvisedly thought to imitate, among Greek institutions and in

a lawful government, the pride and assumption usual in those

courts.  Agis, on the contrary, in fineness of nature and

elevation of mind, not only far excelled Leonidas, but in a

manner all the kings that had reigned since the great Agesilaus.

For though he had been bred very tenderly, in abundance and even

in luxury, by his mother Agesistrata and his grandmother

Archidamia, who were the wealthiest of the Lacedaemonians, yet

before the age of twenty, he renounced all indulgence in

pleasures.  Withdrawing himself as far as possible from the

gaiety and ornament which seemed becoming to the grace of his

person, he made it his pride to appear in the coarse Spartan

coat.  In his meals, his bathings, and in all his exercises, he

followed the old Laconian usage, and was often heard to say, he

had no desire for the place of king, if he did not hope by means

of that authority to restore their ancient laws and discipline.

The Lacedaemonians might date the beginning of their corruption

from their conquest of Athens, and the influx of gold and silver

among them that thence ensued.  Yet, nevertheless, the number of

houses which Lycurgus appointed being still maintained, and the

law remaining in force by which everyone was obliged to leave

his lot or portion of land entirely to his son, a kind of order

and equality was thereby preserved, which still in some degree

sustained the state amidst its errors in other respects.  But

one Epitadeus happening to be ephor, a man of great influence,

and of a willful, violent spirit, on some occasion of a quarrel

with his son, proposed a decree, that all men should have

liberty to dispose of their land by gift in their lifetime, or

by their last will and testament.  This being promoted by him to

satisfy a passion of revenge, and through covetousness consented

to by others, and thus enacted for a law, was the ruin of the

best state of the commonwealth.  For the rich men without

scruple drew the estates into their own hands, excluding the

rightful heirs from their succession; and all the wealth being

centered upon a few, the generality were poor and miserable.

Honorable pursuits, for which there was no longer leisure, were

neglected; and the state was filled with sordid business, and

with hatred and envy of the rich.  There did not remain above

seven hundred of the old Spartan families, of which perhaps one

hundred might have estates in land, the rest were destitute

alike of wealth and of honor, were tardy and unperforming in the

defense of their country against its enemies abroad, and eagerly

watched the opportunity for change and revolution at home.

Agis, therefore, believing it a glorious action, as in truth it

was, to equalize and repeople the state, began to sound the

inclinations of the citizens.  He found the young men disposed

beyond his expectation; they were eager to enter with him upon

the contest in the cause of virtue, and to fling aside, for

freedom's sake, their old manner of life, as readily as the

wrestler does his garment.  But the old men, habituated and more

confirmed in their vices, were most of them as alarmed at the

very name of Lycurgus, as a fugitive slave to be brought back

before his offended master.  These men could not endure to hear

Agis continually deploring the present state of Sparta, and

wishing she might be restored to her ancient glory.  But on the

other side, Lysander, the son of Libys, Mandroclidas, the son of

Ecphanes, together with Agesilaus, not only approved his design,

but assisted and confirmed him in it.  Lysander had a great

authority and credit with the people; Mandroclidas was esteemed

the ablest Greek of his time to manage an affair and put it in

train, and, joined with skill and cunning, had a great degree of

boldness.  Agesilaus was the king's uncle, by the mother's side;

an eloquent man, but covetous and voluptuous, who was not moved

by considerations of public good, but rather seemed to be

persuaded to it by his son Hippomedon, whose courage and signal

actions in war had gained him a high esteem and great influence

among the young men of Sparta, though indeed the true motive

was, that he had many debts, and hoped by this means to be freed

from them.

As soon as Agis had prevailed with his uncle, he endeavored by

his mediation to gain his mother also, who had many friends and

followers, and a number of persons in her debt in the city, and

took a considerable part in public affairs.  At the first

proposal, she was very averse, and strongly advised her son not

to engage in so difficult and so unprofitable an enterprise.

But Agesilaus endeavored to possess her, that the thing was not

so difficult as she imagined, and that it might, in all

likelihood, redound to the advantage of her family; while the

king, her son, besought her not for money's sake to decline

assisting his hopes of glory.  He told her, he could not pretend

to equal other kings in riches, the very followers and menials

of the satraps and stewards of Seleucus or Ptolemy abounding

more in wealth than all the Spartan kings put together; but if

by contempt of wealth and pleasure, by simplicity and

magnanimity, he could surpass their luxury and abundance, if he

could restore their former equality to the Spartans, then he

should be a great king indeed.  In conclusion, the mother and

the grandmother also were so taken, so carried away with the

inspiration, as it were, of the young man's noble and generous

ambition, that they not only consented, but were ready on an

occasions to spur him on to a perseverance, and not only sent to

speak on his behalf with the men with whom they had an interest,

but addressed the other women also, knowing well that the

Lacedaemonian wives had always a great power with their

husbands, who used to impart to them their state affairs with

greater freedom than the women would communicate with the men in

the private business of their families.  Which was indeed one

of the greatest obstacles to this design; for the money of

Sparta being most of it in the women's hands, it was their

interest to oppose it, not only as depriving them of those

superfluous trifles, in which through want of better knowledge

and experience, they placed their chief felicity, but also

because they knew their riches were the main support of their

power and credit.

Those, therefore, who were of this faction, had recourse to

Leonidas, representing to him, how it was his part, as the elder

and more experienced, to put a stop to the ill-advised projects

of a rash young man.  Leonidas, though of himself sufficiently

inclined to oppose Agis, durst not openly, for fear of the

people, who were manifestly desirous of this change; but

underhand he did all he could to discredit and thwart the

project, and to prejudice the chief magistrates against him, and

on all occasions craftily insinuated, that it was as the price

of letting him usurp arbitrary power, that Agis thus proposed to

divide the property of the rich among the poor, and that the

object of these measures for canceling debts, and dividing the

lands, was, not to furnish Sparta with citizens, but purchase

him a tyrant's body-guard.

Agis, nevertheless, little regarding these rumors, procured

Lysander's election as ephor; and then took the first occasion

of proposing through him his Rhetra to the council, the chief

articles of which were these: That every one should be free from

their debts; all the lands to be divided into equal portions,

those that lay betwixt the watercourse near Pellene and Mount

Taygetus, and as far as the cities of Malea and Sellasia, into

four thousand five hundred lots, the remainder into fifteen

thousand; these last to be shared out among those of the country

people who were fit for service as heavy-armed soldiers, the

first among the natural born Spartans; and their number also

should be supplied from any among the country people or

strangers who had received the proper breeding of freemen, and

were of vigorous, body and of age for military service.  All

these were to be divided into fifteen companies, some of four

hundred, and some of two, with a diet and discipline agreeable

to the laws of Lycurgus.

This decree being proposed in the council of Elders, met there

with opposition; so that Lysander immediately convoked the great

assembly of the people, to whom he, Mandroclidas, and Agesilaus

made orations, exhorting them that they would not suffer the

majesty of Sparta to remain abandoned to contempt, to gratify a

few rich men, who lorded it over them; but that they should call

to mind the oracles in old time which had forewarned them to

beware of the love of money, as the great danger and probable

ruin of Sparta, and, moreover, those recently brought from the

temple of Pasiphae.  This was a famous temple and oracle at

Thalamae; and this Pasiphae, some say, was one of the daughters

of Atlas, who had by Jupiter a son called Ammon; others are of

opinion it was Cassandra, the daughter of king Priam, who, dying

in this place, was called Pasiphae, as the revealer of oracles

to all men. Phylarchus says, that this was Daphne, the daughter

of Amyclas, who, flying from Apollo, was transformed into a

laurel, and honored by that god with the gift of prophecy.  But

be it as it will, it is certain the people were made to

apprehend, that this oracle had commanded them to return to

their former state of equality settled by Lycurgus.  As soon as

these had done speaking, Agis stood up, and after a few words,

told them he would make the best contribution in his power to

the new legislation, which was proposed for their advantage.  In

the first place, he would divide among them all his patrimony,

which was of large extent in tillage and pasture; he would also

give six hundred talents in ready money, and his mother,

grandmother, and his other friends and relations, who were the

richest of the Lacedaemonians, were ready to follow his example.

The people were transported with admiration of the young man's

generosity, and with joy, that after three hundred years'

interval, at last there had appeared a king worthy of Sparta.

But, on the other side, Leonidas was now more than ever averse,

being sensible that he and his friends would be obliged to

contribute with their riches, and yet all the honor and

obligation would redound to Agis.  He asked him then before them

all, whether Lycurgus were not in his opinion a wise man, and a

lover of his country.  Agis answering he was, "And when did

Lycurgus," replied Leonidas, "cancel debts, or admit strangers

to citizenship, — he who thought the commonwealth not secure

unless from time to time the city was cleared of all

strangers?"  To this Agis replied, "It is no wonder that

Leonidas, who was brought up and married abroad, and has

children by a wife taken out of a Persian court, should know

little of Lycurgus or his laws.  Lycurgus took away both debts

and loans, by taking away money; and objected indeed to the

presence of men who were foreign to the manners and customs of

the country, not in any case from an ill-will to their persons,

but lest the example of their lives and conduct should infect

the city with the love of riches, and of delicate and luxurious

habits.  For it is well known that he himself gladly kept

Terpander, Thales, and Pherecycles, though they were strangers,

because he perceived they were in their poems and in their

philosophy of the same mind with him.  And you that are wont to

praise Ecprepes, who, being ephor, cut with his hatchet two of

the nine strings from the instrument of Phrynis, the musician,

and to commend those who afterwards imitated him, in cutting the

strings of Timotheus's harp, with what face can you blame us,

for designing to cut off superfluity and luxury and display from

the commonwealth?  Do you think those men were so concerned only

about a lute-string, or intended anything else than to check in

music that same excess and extravagance which rule in our

present lives and manners, and have disturbed and destroyed all

the harmony and order of our city?"

From this time forward, as the common people followed Agis, so

the rich men adhered to Leonidas.  They be sought him not to

forsake their cause; and with persuasions and entreaties so far

prevailed with the council of Elders, whose power consisted in

preparing all laws before they were proposed to the people, that

the designed Rhetra was rejected, though but by only one vote.

Whereupon Lysander, who was still ephor, resolving to be

revenged on Leonidas, drew up an information against him,

grounded on two old laws: the one forbids any of the blood of

Hercules to raise up children by a foreign woman, and the other

makes it capital for a Lacedaemonian to leave his country to

settle among foreigners.  Whilst he set others on to manage this

accusation, he with his colleagues went to observe the sign,

which was a custom they had, and performed in this manner.

Every ninth year, the ephors, choosing a starlight night, when

there is neither cloud nor moon, sit down together in quiet and

silence, and watch the sky.  And if they chance to see the

shooting of a star, they presently pronounce their king guilty

of some offense against the gods, and thereupon he is

immediately suspended from all exercise of regal power, till he

is relieved by an oracle from Delphi or Olympia.

Lysander, therefore, assured the people, he had seen a star

shoot, and at the same time Leonidas was cited to answer for

himself.  Witnesses were produced to testify he had married an

Asian woman, bestowed on him by one of king Seleucus's

lieutenants; that he had two children by her, but she so

disliked and hated him, that, against his wishes, flying from

her, he was in a manner forced to return to Sparta, where, his

predecessor dying without issue, he took upon him the

government.  Lysander, not content with this, persuaded also

Cleombrotus to lay claim to the kingdom.  He was of the royal

family, and son-in-law to Leonidas; who, fearing now the event

of this process, fled as a suppliant to the temple of Minerva of

the Brazen House, together with his daughter, the wife of

Cleombrotus; for she in this occasion resolved to leave her

husband, and to follow her father.  Leonidas being again cited,

and not appearing, they pronounced a sentence of deposition

against him, and made Cleombrotus king in his place.

Soon after this revolution, Lysander, his year expiring, went

out of his office, and new ephors were chosen, who gave Leonidas

assurance of safety, and cited Lysander and Mandroclidas to

answer for having, contrary to law, canceled debts, and designed

a new division of lands.  They, seeing themselves in danger, had

recourse to the two kings, and represented to them, how

necessary it was for their interest and safety to act with

united authority and bid defiance to the ephors.  For, indeed,

the power of the ephors, they said, was only grounded on the

dissensions of the kings, it being their privilege, when the

kings differed in opinion, to add their suffrage to whichever

they judged to have given the best advice; but when the two

kings were unanimous, none ought or durst resist their

authority, the magistrate, whose office it was to stand as

umpire when they were at variance, had no call to interfere when

they were of one mind.  Agis and Cleombrotus, thus persuaded,

went together with their friends into the market-place, where,

removing the ephors from their seats, they placed others in

their room of whom Agesilaus was one; proceeding then to arm a

company of young men, and releasing many out of prison; so that

those of the contrary faction began to be in great fear of their

lives; but there was no blood spilt.  On the contrary, Agis,

having notice that Agesilaus had ordered a company of soldiers

to lie in wait for Leonidas, to kill him as he fled to Tegea,

immediately sent some of his followers to defend him, and to

convey him safely into that city.

Thus far all things proceeded prosperously, none daring to

oppose; but through the sordid weakness of one man these

promising beginnings were blasted, and a most noble and truly

Spartan purpose overthrown and ruined, by the love of money.

Agesilaus, as we said, was much in debt, though in possession of

one of the largest and best estates in land; and while he gladly

joined in this design to be quit of his debts, he was not at all

willing to part with his land.  Therefore he persuaded Agis,

that if both these things should be put in execution at the same

time, so great and so sudden an alteration might cause some

dangerous commotion; but if debts were in the first place

canceled, the rich men would afterwards more easily be

prevailed with to part with their land.  Lysander, also, was of

the same opinion, being deceived in like manner by the craft of

Agesilaus; so that all men were presently commanded to bring in

their bonds, or deeds of obligation, by the Lacedaemonians

called Claria, into the market-place, where being laid together

in a heap, they set fire to them.  The wealthy, money-lending

people, one may easily imagine, beheld it with a heavy heart;

but Agesilaus told them scoffingly, his eyes had never seen so

bright and so pure a flame.

And now the people pressed earnestly for an immediate division

of lands; the kings also had ordered it should be done; but

Agesilaus, sometimes pretending one difficulty, and sometimes

another, delayed the execution, till an occasion happened to

call Agis to the wars.  The Achaeans, in virtue of a defensive

treaty of alliance, sent to demand succors, as they expected

every day that the Aetolians would attempt to enter

Peloponnesus, from the territory of Megara.  They had sent

Aratus, their general, to collect forces to hinder this

incursion.  Aratus wrote to the ephors, who immediately gave

order that Agis should hasten to their assistance with the

Lacedaemonian auxiliaries.  Agis was extremely pleased to see

the zeal and bravery of those who went with him upon this

expedition.  They were for the most part young men, and poor;

and being just released from their debts and set at liberty, and

hoping on their return to receive each man his lot of land, they

followed their king with wonderful alacrity.  The cities through

which they passed, were in admiration to see how they marched

from one end of Peloponnesus to the other, without the least

disorder, and, in a manner, without being heard.  It gave the

Greeks occasion to discourse with one another, how great might

be the temperance and modesty of a Laconian army in old time,

under their famous captains Agesilaus, Lysander, or Leonidas,

since they saw such discipline and exact obedience under a

leader who perhaps was the youngest man all the army.  They saw

also how he was himself content to fare hardly, ready to undergo

any labors, and not to be distinguished by pomp or richness of

habit or arms from the meanest of his soldiers; and to people in

general it was an object of regard and admiration.  But rich men

viewed the innovation with dislike and alarm, lest haply the

example might spread, and work changes to their prejudice in

their own countries as well.

Agis joined Aratus near the city of Corinth, where it was still

a matter of debate whether or no it were expedient to give the

enemy battle.  Agis, on this occasion, showed great forwardness

and resolution, yet without temerity or presumption.  He

declared it was his opinion they ought to fight, thereby to

hinder the enemy from passing the gates of Peloponnesus, but,

nevertheless, he would submit to the judgment of Aratus, not

only as the elder and more experienced captain, but as he was

general of the Achaeans, whose forces he would not pretend to

command, but was only come thither to assist them.  I am not

ignorant that Baton of Sinope, relates it in another manner; he

says, Aratus would have fought, and that Agis was against it;

but it is certain he was mistaken, not having read what Aratus

himself wrote in his own justification, that knowing the people

had wellnigh got in their harvest, he thought it much better to

let the enemy pass, than put all to the hazard of a battle.  And

therefore, giving thanks to the confederates for their

readiness, he dismissed them.  And Agis, not without having

gained a great deal of honor, returned to Sparta, where he found

the people in disorder, and a new revolution imminent, owing to

the ill government of Agesilaus.

For he, being now one of the ephors, and freed from the fear

which formerly kept him in some restraint, forbore no kind of

oppression which might bring in gain.  Among other things, he

exacted a thirteenth month's tax, whereas the usual cycle

required at this time no such addition to the year.  For these

and other reasons fearing those whom he injured, and knowing how

he was hated by the people, he thought it necessary to maintain

a guard, which always accompanied him to the magistrate's

office.  And presuming now on his power, he was grown so

insolent, that of the two kings, the one he openly contemned,

and if he showed any respect towards Agis, would have it thought

rather an effect of his near relationship, than any duty or

submission to the royal authority.  He gave it out also, that he

was to continue ephor the ensuing year.

His enemies, therefore, alarmed by this report, lost no time in

risking an attempt against him; and openly bringing hack

Leonidas from Tegea, reestablished him in the kingdom, to which

even the people, highly incensed for having been defrauded in

the promised division of lands, willingly consented.  Agesilaus

himself would hardly have escaped their fury, if his son,

Hippomedon, whose manly virtues made him dear to all, had not

saved him out of their hands, and then privately conveyed him

from the city.

During this commotion, the two kings fled, Agis to the temple of

the Brazen House, and Cleombrotus to that of Neptune.  For

Leonidas was more incensed against his son-in-law; and leaving

Agis alone, went with his soldiers to Cleombrotus's sanctuary,

and there with great passion reproached him for having, though

he was his son-in-law, conspired with his enemies, usurped his

throne, and forced him from his country.  Cleombrotus, having

little to say for himself, sat silent.  His wife, Chilonis, the

daughter of Leonidas, had chosen to follow her father in his

sufferings; for when Cleombrotus usurped the kingdom, she

forsook him, and wholly devoted herself to comfort her father in

his affliction; whilst he still remained in Sparta, she remained

also, as a suppliant, with him, and when he fled, she fled with

him, bewailing his misfortune, and extremely displeased with

Cleombrotus.  But now, upon this turn of fortune, she changed in

like manner, and was seen sitting now, as a suppliant, with her

husband, embracing him with her arms, and having her two little

children beside her.  All men were full of wonder at the piety

and tender affection of the young woman, who, pointing to her

robes and her hair, both alike neglected and unattended to, said

to Leonidas, "I am not brought, my father, to this condition you

see me in, on account of the present misfortunes of Cleombrotus;

my mourning habit is long since familiar to me.  It was put on

to condole with you in your banishment; and now you are restored

to your country, and to your kingdom, must I still remain in

grief and misery?  Or would you have me attired in my royal

ornaments, that I may rejoice with you, when you have killed,

within my arms, the man to whom you gave me for a wife?  Either

Cleombrotus must appease you by mine and my children's tears, or

he must suffer a punishment greater than you propose for his

faults, and shall see me, whom he loves so well, die before him.

To what end should I live, or how shall I appear among the

Spartan women, when it shall so manifestly be seen, that I have

not been able to move to compassion either a husband or a

father?  I was born, it seems, to participate in the ill fortune

and in the disgrace, both as a wife and a daughter, of those

nearest and dearest to me.  As for Cleombrotus, I sufficiently

surrendered any honorable plea on his behalf, when I forsook him

to follow you; but you yourself offer the fairest excuse for his

proceedings, by showing to the world that for the sake of a

kingdom, it is just to kill a son-in-law, and be regardless of a

daughter."  Chilonis, having ended this lamentation, rested her

face on her husband's head, and looked round with her weeping

and woebegone eyes upon those who stood be fore her.

Leonidas, touched with compassion, withdrew a while to advise

with his friends; then returning, bade Cleombrotus leave the

sanctuary and go into banishment; Chilonis, he said, ought to

stay with him, it not being just she should forsake a father

whose affection had granted to her intercession the life of her

husband.  But all he could say would not prevail.  She rose up

immediately, and taking one of her children in her arms, gave

the other to her husband; and making her reverence to the altar

of the goddess, went out and followed him.  So that, in a word,

if Cleombrotus were not utterly blinded by ambition, he must

surely choose to be banished with so excellent a woman rather

than without her to possess a kingdom.

Cleombrotus thus removed, Leonidas proceeded also to displace

the ephors, and to choose others in their room; then he began to

consider how he might entrap Agis.  At first, he endeavored by

fair means to persuade him to leave the sanctuary, and partake

with him in the kingdom.  The people, he said, would easily

pardon the errors of a young man, ambitious of glory, and

deceived by the craft of Agesilaus.  But finding Agis was

suspicious, and not to be prevailed with to quit his sanctuary,

he gave up that design; yet what could not then be effected by

the dissimulation of an enemy, was soon after brought to pass by

the treachery of friends.

Amphares, Damochares, and Arcesilaus often visited Agis, and he

was so confident of their fidelity that after a while he was

prevailed with to accompany them to the baths, which were not

far distant, they constantly returning to see him safe again in

the temple.  They were all three his familiars; and Amphares had

borrowed a great deal of plate and rich household stuff from

Agesistrata, and hoped if he could destroy her and the whole

family, he might peaceably enjoy those goods.  And he, it is

said, was the readiest of all to serve the purposes of Leonidas,

and being one of the ephors, did all he could to incense the

rest of his colleagues against Agis.  These men, therefore,

finding that Agis would not quit his sanctuary, but on occasion

would venture from it to go to the bath, resolved to seize him

on the opportunity thus given them.  And one day as he was

returning, they met and saluted him as formerly, conversing

pleasantly by the way, and jesting, as youthful friends might,

till coming to the turning of a street which led to the prison,

Amphares, by virtue of his office, laid his hand on Agis, and

told him, "You must go with me, Agis, before the other ephors,

to answer for your misdemeanors."  At the same time, Damochares,

who was a tall, strong man, drew his cloak tight round his neck,

and dragged him after by it, whilst the others went behind to

thrust him on.  So that none of Agis's friends being near to

assist him, nor anyone by, they easily got him into the prison,

where Leonidas was already arrived, with a company of soldiers,

who strongly guarded all the avenues; the ephors also came in,

with as many of the Elders as they knew to be true to their

party, being desirous to proceed with some resemblance of

justice.  And thus they bade him give an account of his actions.

To which Agis, smiling at their dissimulation, answered not a

word.  Amphares told him, it was more seasonable to weep, for

now the time was come in which he should be punished for his

presumption.  Another of the ephors, as though he would be more

favorable, and offering as it were an excuse, asked him whether

he was not forced to what he did by Agesilaus and Lysander.  But

Agis answered, he had not been constrained by any man, nor had

any other intent in what he did, but only to follow the example

of Lycurgus, and to govern conformably to his laws.  The same

ephor asked him, whether now at least he did not repent his

rashness.  To which the young man answered, that though he were

to suffer the extremest penalty for it, yet he could never

repent of so just and so glorious a design.  Upon this they

passed sentence of death on him, and bade the officers carry him

to the Dechas, as it is called, a place in the prison where they

strangle malefactors.  And when the officers would not venture

to lay hands on him, and the very mercenary soldiers declined

it, believing it an illegal and a wicked act to lay violent

hands on a king, Damochares, threatening and reviling them for

it, himself thrust him into the room.

For by this time the news of his being seized had reached many

parts of the city, and there was a concourse of people with

lights and torches about the prison gates, and in the midst of

them the mother and the grandmother of Agis, crying out with a

loud voice, that their king ought to appear, and to be heard and

judged by the people.  But this clamor, instead of preventing,

hastened his death; his enemies fearing, if the tumult should

increase, he might be rescued during the night out of their

hands.

Agis, being now at the point to die, perceived one of the

officers bitterly bewailing his misfortune; "Weep not, friend,"

said he, "for me, who die innocent, by the lawless act of wicked

men.  My condition is much better than theirs."  As soon as he

had spoken these words, not showing the least sign of fear, he

offered his neck to the noose.

Immediately after he was dead, Amphares went out of the prison

gate, where he found Agesistrata, who, believing him still the

same friend as before, threw herself at his feet.  He gently

raised her up, and assured her, she need not fear any further

violence or danger of death for her son, and that if she

pleased, she might go in and see him.  She begged her mother

might also have the favor to be admitted, and he replied, nobody

should hinder it.  When they were entered, he commanded the

gate should again be locked, and Archidamia, the grandmother, to

be first introduced; she was now grown very old, and had lived

all her days in the highest repute among her fellows.  As soon

as Amphares thought she was dispatched, he told Agesistrata she

might now go in if she pleased.  She entered, and beholding her

son's body stretched on the ground, and her mother hanging by

the neck, the first thing she did was, with her own hands, to

assist the officers in taking down the body; then covering it

decently, she laid it out by her son's, whom then embracing, and

kissing his cheeks, "O my son," said she, "it was thy too great

mercy and goodness which brought thee and us to ruin."

Amphares, who stood watching behind the door, on hearing this,

broke in, and said angrily to her, " Since you approve so well

of your son's actions, it is fit you should partake in his

reward."  She, rising up to offer herself to the noose, said

only, "I pray that it may redound to the good of Sparta."

And now the three bodies being exposed to view, and the fact

divulged, no fear was strong enough to hinder the people from

expressing their abhorrence of what was done, and their

detestation of Leonidas and Amphares, the contrivers of it.  So

wicked and barbarous an act had never been committed in Sparta,

since first the Dorians inhabited Peloponnesus; the very enemies

in war, they said, were always cautious of spilling the blood of

a Lacedaemonian king, insomuch that in any combat they would

decline, and endeavor to avoid them, from feelings of respect

and reverence for their station.  And certainly we see that in

the many battles fought betwixt the Lacedaemonians and the other

Greeks, up to the time of Philip of Macedon, not one of their

kings was ever killed, except Cleombrotus, by a javelin-wound,

at the battle of Leuctra.  I am not ignorant that the Messenians

affirm, Theopompus was also slain by their Aristomenes; but the

Lacedaemonians deny it, and say he was only wounded.

Be it as it will, it is certain at least that Agis was the first

king put to death in Lacedaemon by the ephors, for having

undertaken a design noble in itself and worthy of his country,

at a time of life when men's errors usually meet with an easy

pardon.  And if errors he did commit, his enemies certainly had

less reason to blame him, than had his friends for that gentle

and compassionate temper which made him save the life of

Leonidas, and believe in other men's professions.

CLEOMENES

Thus fell Agis.  His brother Archidamus was too quick for

Leonidas, and saved himself by a timely retreat.  But his

wife, then mother of a young child, he forced from her own

house, and compelled Agiatis, for that was her name, to marry

his son Cleomenes, though at that time too young for a wife,

because he was unwilling that anyone else should have her,

being heiress to her father Glylippus's great estate; in

person the most youthful and beautiful woman in all Greece,

and well-conducted in her habits of life.  And therefore,

they say, she did all she could that she might not be

compelled to this new marriage.  But being thus united to

Cleomenes, she indeed hated Leonidas, but to the youth showed

herself a kind and obliging wife.  He, as soon as they came

together, began to love her very much, and the constant

kindness that she still retained for the memory of Agis,

wrought somewhat of the like feeling in the young man for

him, so that he would often inquire of her concerning what

had passed, and attentively listen to the story of Agis's

purpose and design.  Now Cleomenes had a generous and great

soul; he was as temperate and moderate in his pleasures as

Agis, but not so scrupulous, circumspect, and gentle.  There

was something of heat and passion always goading him on, and

an impetuosity and violence in his eagerness to pursue

anything which he thought good and just.  To have men obey

him of their own freewill, he conceived to be the best

discipline; but, likewise, to subdue resistance, and force

them to the better course, was, in his opinion, commendable

and brave.

This disposition made him dislike the management of the city.

The citizens lay dissolved in supine idleness and pleasures;

the king let everything take its own way, thankful if nobody

gave him any disturbance, nor called him away from the

enjoyment of his wealth and luxury.  The public interest was

neglected, and each man intent upon his private gain.  It was

dangerous, now Agis was killed, so much as to name such a

thing as the exercising and training of their youth; and to

speak of the ancient temperance, endurance, and equality, was

a sort of treason against the state.  It is said also that

Cleomenes, whilst a boy, studied philosophy under Sphaerus,

the Borysthenite, who crossed over to Sparta, and spent some

time and trouble in instructing the youth.  Sphaerus was one

of the first of Zeno the Citiean's scholars, and it is likely

enough that he admired the manly temper of Cleomenes and

inflamed his generous ambition.  The ancient Leonidas, as

story tells, being asked what manner of poet he thought

Tyrtaeus, replied, "Good to whet young men's courage;" for

being filled with a divine fury by his poems, they rushed

into any danger.  And so the stoic philosophy is a dangerous

incentive to strong and fiery dispositions, but where it

combines with a grave and gentle temper, is most successful

in leading it to its proper good.

Upon the death of his father Leonidas, he succeeded, and

observing the citizens of all sorts to be debauched, the rich

neglecting the public good, and intent on their private gain

and pleasure, and the poor distressed in their own homes, and

therefore without either spirit for war or ambition to be

trained up as Spartans, that he had only the name of king,

and the ephors all the power, he was resolved to change the

present posture of affairs.  He had a friend whose name was

Xenares, his lover, (such an affection the Spartans express

by the term, being inspired, or imbreathed with); him he

sounded, and of him he would commonly inquire what manner of

king Agis was, by what means and by what assistance he began

and pursued his designs.  Xenares, at first, willingly

compiled with his request, and told him the whole story, with

all the particular circumstances of the actions.  But when he

observed Cleomenes to be extremely affected at the relation,

and more than ordinarily taken with Agis's new model of the

government, and begging a repetition of the story, he at

first severely chid him, told him he was frantic, and at last

left off all sort of familiarity and intercourse with him,

yet he never told any man the cause of their disagreement,

but would only say, Cleomenes knew very well.  Cleomenes,

finding Xenares averse to his designs, and thinking all

others to be of the same disposition, consulted with none,

but contrived the whole business by himself.  And considering

that it would be easier to bring about an alteration when the

city was at war, than when in peace, he engaged the

commonwealth in a quarrel with the Achaeans, who had given

them fair occasions to complain.  For Aratus, a man of the

greatest power amongst all the Achaeans, designed from the

very beginning to bring all the Peloponnesians into one

common body.  And to effect this was the one object of all

his many commanderships and his long political course; as he

thought this the only means to make them a match for their

foreign enemies.  Pretty nearly all the rest agreed to his

proposals, only the Lacedaemonians, the Eleans, and as many

of the Arcadians as inclined to the Spartan interest,

remained unpersuaded.  And so as soon as Leonidas was dead,

he began to attack the Arcadians, and wasted those especially

that bordered on Achaea, by this means designing to try the

inclinations of the Spartans, and despising Cleomenes as a

youth, and of no experience in affairs of state or war.  Upon

this, the ephors sent Cleomenes to surprise the Athenaeum,

near Belbina, which is a pass commanding an entrance into

Laconia and was then the subject of litigation with the

Megalopolitans.  Cleomenes possessed himself of the place,

and fortified it, at which action Aratus showed no public

resentment, but marched by night to surprise Tegea and

Orchormenus.  The design failed, for those that were to

betray the cities into his hands, turned afraid; so Aratus

retreated, imagining that his design had been undiscovered.

But Cleomenes wrote a sarcastic letter to him, and desired to

know, as from a friend, whither he intended to march at

night; and Aratus answering, that having heard of his design

to fortify Belbina, he meant to march thither to oppose him,

Cleomenes rejoined, that he did not dispute it, but begged to

be informed, if he might be allowed to ask the question, why

he carried those torches and ladders with him.

Aratus laughing at the jest, and asking what manner of youth

this was, Damocrates, a Spartan exile, replied, "If you have

any designs upon the Lacedaemonians, begin before this young

eagle's talons are grown."  Presently after this, Cleomenes,

encamping in Arcadia with a few horse and three hundred foot,

received orders from the ephors, who feared to engage in the

war, commanding him home; but when upon his retreat Aratus

took Caphyae, they commissioned him again.  In this

expedition he took Methydrium, and overran the country of the

Argives; and the Achaeans, to oppose him, came out with an

army of twenty thousand foot and one thousand horse, under

the command of Aristomachus.  Cleomenes faced them at

Pallantium, and offered battle, but Aratus, being cowed by

his bravery, would not suffer the general to engage, but

retreated, amidst the reproaches of the Achaeans, and the

derision and scorn of the Spartans, who were not above five

thousand.  Cleomenes, encouraged by this success, began to

speak boldly among the citizens, and reminding them of a

sentence of one of their ancient kings, said, it was in vain

now that the Spartans asked, not how many their enemies were,

but where they were. After this, marching to the assistance

of the Eleans, whom the Achaeans were attacking, falling upon

the enemy in their retreat near the Lycaeum, he put their

whole army to flight, taking a great number of captives, and

leaving many dead upon the place; so that it was commonly

reported amongst the Greeks that Aratus was slain.  But

Aratus, making the best advantage of the opportunity,

immediately after the defeat marched to Mantinea, and before

anybody suspected it, took the city, and put a garrison into

it.  Upon this, the Lacedaemonians being quite discouraged,

and opposing Cleomenes's designs of carrying on the war, he

now exerted himself to have Archidamus, the brother of Agis,

sent for from Messene, as he, of the other family, had a

right to the kingdom ; and besides, Cleomenes thought that

the power of the ephors would be reduced, when the kingly

state was thus filled up, and raised to its proper position.

But those that were concerned in the murder of Agis,

perceiving the design, and fearing that upon Archidamus's

return they should be called to an account, received him on

his coming privately into town, and joined in bringing him

home, and presently after murdered him.  Whether Cleomenes

was against it, as Phylarchus thinks, or whether he was

persuaded by his friends, or let him fall into their hands,

is uncertain; however, they were most blamed, as having

forced his consent.

He, still resolving to new model the state, bribed the ephors

to send him out to war; and won the affections of many others

by means of his mother Cratesiclea, who spared no cost and

was very zealous to promote her son's ambition; and though of

herself she had no inclination to marry, yet for his sake,

she accepted, as her husband, one of the chiefest citizens

for wealth and power.  Cleomenes, marching forth with the

army now under his commend, took Leuctra, a place belonging

to Megalopolis; and the Achaeans quickly coming up to resist

him with a good body of men commanded by Aratus, in a battle

under the very walls of the city some part of his army was

routed.  But whereas Aratus had commanded the Achaeans not to

pass a deep watercourse, and thus put a stop to the pursuit,

Lydiadas, the Megalopolitan, fretting at the orders, and

encouraging the horse which he led, and following the routed

enemy, got into a place full of vines, hedges, and ditches;

and being forced to break his ranks, began to retire in

disorder.  Cleomenes, observing the advantage, commanded the

Tarentines and Cretans to engage him, by whom, after a brave

defense, he was routed and slain.  The Lacedaemonians, thus

encouraged, fell with a great shout upon the Achaeans, and

routed their whole army.  Of the slain, who were very many,

the rest Cleomenes delivered up, when the enemy petitioned

for them; but the body of Lydiadas he commanded to be brought

to him; and then putting on it a purple robe, and a crown

upon its head, sent a convoy with it to the gates of

Megalopolis.  This is that Lydiadas who resigned his power as

tyrant, restored liberty to the citizens, and joined the city

to the Achaean interest.

Cleomenes, being very much elated by this success, and

persuaded that if matters were wholly at his disposal, he

should soon be too hard for the Achaeans, persuaded

Megistonus, his mother's husband, that it was expedient for

the state to shake off the power of the ephors, and to put

all their wealth into one common stock for the whole body;

thus Sparta, being restored to its old equality, might aspire

again to the command of all Greece.  Megistonus liked the

design, and engaged two or three more of his friends.  About

that time, one of the ephors, sleeping in Pasiphae's temple,

dreamed a very surprising dream; for he thought he saw the

four chairs removed out of the place where the ephors used to

sit and do the business of their office, and one only set

there; and whilst he wondered, he heard a voice out of the

temple, saying, "This is best for Sparta."  The person

telling Cleomenes this dream, he was a little troubled at

first, fearing that he used this as a trick to sift him, upon

some suspicion of his design, but when he was satisfied that

the relater spoke truth, he took heart again.  And carrying

with him those whom he thought would be most against his

project, he took Heraea and Alsaea, two towns in league with

the Achaeans, furnished Orchomenus with provisions, encamped

before Mantinea, and with long marches up and down so

harassed the Lacedaemonians, that many of them at their own

request were left behind in Arcadia, while he with the

mercenaries went on toward Sparta, and by the way

communicated his design to those whom he thought fittest for

his purpose, and marched slowly, that he might catch the

ephors at supper.

When he was come near the city, he sent Euryclidas to the

public table, where the ephors supped, under pretense of

carrying some message from him from the army; Therycion,

Phoebis, and two of those who had been bred up with

Cleomenes, whom they call mothaces, followed with a few

soldiers; and whilst Euryclidas was delivering his message to

the ephors, they ran upon them with their drawn swords, and

slew them.  The first of them, Agylaeus, on receiving the

blow, fell and lay as dead; but in a little time quietly

raising himself, and drawing himself out of the room, he

crept, without being discovered, into a little building which

was dedicated to Fear, and which always used to be shut, but

then by chance was open; and being got in, he shut the door,

and lay close.  The other four were killed, and above ten

more that came to their assistance; to those that were quiet

they did no harm, stopped none that fled from the city, and

spared Agylaeus, when he came out of the temple the next day.

The Lacedaemonians have not only sacred places dedicated to

Fear, but also to Death, Laughter, and the like Passions.

Now they worship Fear, not as they do supernatural powers

which they dread, esteeming it hurtful, but thinking their

polity is chiefly kept up by fear.  And therefore, the

ephors, Aristotle is my author, when they entered upon their

government, made proclamation to the people, that they should

shave their mustaches, and be obedient to the laws, that the

laws might not be hard upon them, making, I suppose, this

trivial injunction, to accustom their youth to obedience even

in the smallest matters.  And the ancients, I think, did not

imagine bravery to be plain fearlessness, but a cautious fear

of blame and disgrace.  For those that show most timidity

towards the laws, are most bold against their enemies; and

those are least afraid of any danger who are most afraid of a

just reproach.  Therefore it was well said that

A reverence still attends on fear;

and by Homer,

Feared you shall be, dear father, and revered;

and again,

In silence fearing those that bore the sway;

for the generality of men are most ready to reverence those

whom they fear.  And, therefore, the Lacedaemonians placed

the temple of Fear by the Syssitium of the ephors, having

raised that magistracy to almost royal authority.

The next day, Cleomenes proscribed eighty of the citizens,

whom he thought necessary to banish, and removed all the

seats of the ephors, except one, in which he himself designed

to sit and give audience; and calling the citizens together,

he made an apology for his proceedings, saying, that by

Lycurgus the council of Elders was joined to the kings, and

that that model of government had continued a long time, and

no other sort of magistrates had been wanted.  But

afterwards, in the long war with the Messenians, when the

kings, having to command the army, found no time to

administer justice, they chose some of their friends, and

left them to determine the suits of the citizens in their

stead.  These were called ephors, and at first behaved

themselves as servants to the kings; but afterwards, by

degrees, they appropriated the power to themselves and

erected a distinct magistracy.  An evidence of the truth of

this was the custom still observed by the kings, who, when

the ephors send for them, refuse, upon the first and the

second summons, to go, but upon the third, rise up and attend

them.  And Asteropus, the first that raised the ephors to

that height of power, lived a great many years after their

institution.  So long, therefore, he continued, as they

contained themselves within their own proper sphere, it had

been better to bear with them than to make a disturbance.

But that an upstart, introduced power should so far subvert

the ancient form of government as to banish some kings,

murder others, without hearing their defense, and threaten

those who desired to see the best and most divine

constitution restored in Sparta, was not to be borne.

Therefore, if it had been possible for him, without

bloodshed, to free Lacedaemon from those foreign plagues,

luxury, sumptuosity, debts, and usury, and from those yet

more ancient evils, poverty and riches, he should have

thought himself the happiest king in the world, to have

succeeded, like an expert physician, in curing the diseases

of his country without pain.  But now, in this necessity,

Lycurgus's example favored his proceedings, who being neither

king nor magistrate, but a private man, and aiming at the

kingdom, came armed into the market-place, so that king

Charillus fled in alarm to the altar.  He, being a good man,

and a lover of his country, readily concurred in Lycurgus's

designs, and admitted the revolution in the state.  But, by

his own actions, Lycurgus had nevertheless borne witness that

it was difficult to change the government without force and

fear, in the use of which he himself, he said, had been so

moderate as to do no more than put out of the way those who

opposed themselves to Sparta's happiness and safety.  For the

rest of the nation, he told them, the whole land was now

their common property; debtors should be cleared of their

debts, and examination made of those who were not citizens,

that the bravest men might thus be made free Spartans, and

give aid in arms to save the city, and "We" he said, "may no

longer see Laconia, for want of men to defend it, wasted by

the Aetolians and Illyrians."

Then he himself first, with his step-father, Megistonus, and

his friends, gave up all their wealth into one public stock,

and all the other citizens followed the example.  The land

was divided, and everyone that he had banished, had a share

assigned him; for he promised to restore all, as soon as

things were settled and in quiet.  And completing the number

of citizens out of the best and most promising of the

country people, he raised a body of four thousand men; and

instead of a spear, taught them to use a surissu, with both

hands, and to carry their shields by a band, and not by a

handle, as before.  After this, he began to consult about

the education of the youth, and the Discipline, as they call

it; most of the particulars of which, Sphaerus, being then at

Sparta, assisted in arranging; and, in a short time, the

schools of exercise and the common tables recovered their

ancient decency and order, a few out of necessity, but the

most voluntarily, returning to that generous and Laconic way

of living.  And, that the name of monarch might give them no

jealousy, he made Euclidas, his brother, partner in the

throne; and that was the only time that Sparta had two kings

of the same family.

Then, understanding that the Achaeans and Aratus imagined

that this change had disturbed and shaken his affairs, and

that he would not venture out of Sparta and leave the city

now unsettled in the midst of so great an alteration, he

thought it great and serviceable to his designs, to show his

enemies the zeal and forwardness of his troops.  And,

therefore, making an incursion into the territories of

Megalopolis, he wasted the country far and wide, and

collected a considerable booty.  And, at last, taking a

company of actors, as they were traveling from Messene, and

building a theater in the enemy's country, and offering a

prize of forty minae in value, he sat spectator a whole day;

not that he either desired or needed such amusement, but

wishing to show his disregard for his enemies, and by a

display of his contempt, to prove the extent of his

superiority to them.  For his alone, of all the Greek or

royal armies, had no stage-players, no jugglers, no dancing

or singing women attending it, but was free from all sorts of

looseness, wantonness, and festivity; the young men being for

the most part at their exercises, and the old men giving them

lessons, or, at leisure times, diverting themselves with

their native jests, and quick Laconian answers; the good

results of which we have noticed in the life of Lycurgus.

He himself instructed all by his example; he was a living

pattern of temperance before every man's eyes; and his course

of living was neither more stately, nor more expensive, nor

in any way more pretentious, than that of any of his people.

And this was a considerable advantage to him in his designs

on Greece.  For men when they waited upon other kings, did

not so much admire their wealth, costly furniture, and

numerous attendance, as they hated their pride and state,

their difficulty of access, and imperious answers to their

addresses.  But when they came to Cleomenes, who was both

really a king, and bore that title, and saw no purple, no

robes of state upon him, no couches and litters about him for

his ease, and that he did not receive requests and return

answers after a long delay and difficulty, through a number

of messengers and doorkeepers, or by memorials, but that he

rose and came forward in any dress he might happen to be

wearing, to meet those that came to wait upon him, stayed,

talked freely and affably with all that had business, they

were extremely taken, and won to his service, and professed

that he alone was the true son of Hercules.  His common every

day's meal was in an ordinary room, very sparing, and after

the Laconic manner; and when he entertained ambassadors or

strangers, two more couches were added, and a little better

dinner provided by his servants, but no savoring sauces or

sweetmeats; only the dishes were larger, and the wine more

plentiful.  For he reproved one of his friends for

entertaining some strangers with nothing but barley bread and

black broth, such diet as they usually had in their phiditia;

saying, that upon such occasions, and when they entertained

strangers, it was not well to be too exact Laconians.  After

the table was removed, a stand was brought in, with a brass

vessel full of wine, two silver bowls which held about a pint

apiece, a few silver cups, of which he that pleased might

drink, but wine was not urged on any of the guests.  There

was no music, nor was any required; for he entertained the

company himself, sometimes asking questions, sometimes

telling stories; and his conversation was neither too grave

or disagreeably serious, nor yet in any way rude or

ungraceful in its pleasantry.  For he thought those ways of

entrapping men by gifts and presents, which other kings use,

dishonest and inartificial; and it seemed to him to be the

most noble method, and most suitable to a king, to win the

affections of those that came near him, by personal

intercourse and agreeable conversation, since between a

friend and a mercenary the only distinction is, that we gain

the one by one's character and conversation, the other by

one's money.

The Mantineans were the first that requested his aid; and

when he entered their city by night, they aided him to expel

the Achaean garrison, and put themselves under his

protection.  He restored them their polity and laws, and the

same day marched to Tegea; and a little while after, fetching

a compass through Arcadia, he made a descent upon Pherae, in

Achaea, intending to force Aratus to a battle, or bring him

into disrepute, for refusing to engage, and suffering him to

waste the country.  Hyperbatas at that time was general, but

Aratus had all the power amongst the Achaeans.  The Achaeans,

marching forth with their whole strength, and encamping in

Dymae, near the Hecatombaeum, Cleomenes came up, and thinking

it not advisable to pitch between Dymae, a city of the

enemies, and the camp of the Achaeans, he boldly dared the

Achaeans, and forced them to a battle, and routing their

phalanx, slew a great many in the fight, and took many

prisoners, and thence marching to Langon, and driving out the

Achaean garrison, he restored the city to the Eleans.

The affairs of the Achaeans being in this unfortunate

condition, Aratus, who was wont to take office every other

year, refused the command, though they entreated and urged

him to accept it.  And this was ill done, when the storm was

high, to put the power out of his own hands, and set another

to the helm.  Cleomenes at first proposed fair and easy

conditions by his ambassadors to the Achaeans, but afterward

he sent others, and required the chief command to be settled

upon him; in other matters offering to agree to reasonable

terms, and to restore their captives and their country.  The

Achaeans were willing to come to an agreement upon those

terms, and invited Cleomenes to Lerna, where an assembly was

to be held; but it happened that Cleomenes, hastily marching

on, and drinking water at a wrong time, brought up a quantity

of blood, and lost his voice; therefore being unable to

continue his journey, he sent the chiefest of the captives to

the Achaeans, and, putting off the meeting for some time,

retired to Lacedaemon.

This ruined the affairs of Greece, which was just beginning

in some sort to recover from its disasters, and to show some

capability of delivering itself from the insolence and

rapacity of the Macedonians.  For Aratus, (whether fearing or

distrusting Cleomenes, or envying his unlooked-for success,

or thinking it a disgrace for him who had commanded

thirty-three years, to have a young man succeed to all his

glory and his power, and be head of that government which he

had been raising and settling so many years,) first

endeavored to keep the Achaeans from closing with Cleomenes;

but when they would not hearken to him, fearing Cleomenes's

daring spirit, and thinking the Lacedaemonians' proposals to

be very reasonable, who designed only to reduce Peloponnesus

to its old model, upon this he took his last refuge in an

action which was unbecoming any of the Greeks, most

dishonorable to him, and most unworthy his former bravery and

exploits.  For he called Antigonus into Greece, and filled

Peloponnesus with Macedonians, whom he himself, when a youth,

having beaten their garrison out of the castle of Corinth,

had driven from the same country.  And there had been

constant suspicion and variance between him and all the

kings, and of Antigonus, in particular, he has said a

thousand dishonorable things in the commentaries he has left

behind him.  And though he declares himself how he suffered

considerable losses, and underwent great dangers, that he

might free Athens from the garrison of the Macedonians, yet,

afterwards, he brought the very same men armed into his own

country, and his own house, even to the women's apartment.

He would not endure that one of the family of Hercules, and

king of Sparta, and one that had reformed the polity of his

country, as it were, from a disordered harmony, and retuned

it to the plain Doric measure and rule of life of Lycurgus,

should be styled head of the Tritaeans and Sicyonians; and

whilst he fled the barley-cake and coarse coat, and which

were his chief accusations against Cleomenes, the extirpation

of wealth and reformation of poverty, he basely subjected

himself, together with Achaea, to the diadem and purple, to

the imperious commands of the Macedonians and their satraps.

That he might not seem to be under Cleomenes, he offered

sacrificers, called Antigonea, in honor of Antigonus, and

sang paeans himself, with a garland on his head, to the

praise of a wasted, consumptive Macedonian.  I write this not

out of any design to disgrace Aratus, for in many things he

showed himself a true lover of Greece, and a great man, but

out of pity to the weakness of human nature, which in

characters like this, so worthy and in so many ways disposed

to virtue, cannot maintain its honors unblemished by some

envious fault.

The Achaeans meeting again in assembly at Argos, and

Cleomenes having come from Tegea, there were great hopes that

all differences would be composed.  But Aratus, Antigonus and

he having already agreed upon the chief articles of their

league, fearing that Cleomenes would carry all before him,

and either win or force the multitude to comply with his

demands, proposed, that having three hundred hostages put

into his hands, he should come alone into the town, or bring

his army to the place of exercise, called the Cyllarabium,

outside the city, and treat there.

Cleomenes, hearing this, said, that he was unjustly dealt

with; for they ought to have told him so plainly at first,

and not now he was come even to their doors, show their

jealousy, and deny him admission.  And writing a letter to

the Achaeans about the same subject, the greatest part of

which was an accusation of Aratus, while Aratus, on the other

side, spoke violently against him to the assembly, he hastily

dislodged, and sent a trumpeter to denounce war against the

Achaeans, not to Argos, but to Aegium, as Aratus writes, that

he might not give them notice enough to make provision for

their defense.  There had also been a movement among the

Achaeans themselves, and the cities were eager for revolt;

the common people expecting a division of the land, and a

release from their debts, and the chief men being in many

places ill-disposed to Aratus, and some of them angry and

indignant with him, for having brought the Macedonians into

Peloponnesus.  Encouraged by these misunderstandings,

Cleomenes invaded Achaea, and first took Pellene by surprise,

and beat out the Achaean garrison, and afterwards brought

over Pheneus and Penteleum to his side.  Now the Achaeans,

suspecting some treacherous designs at Corinth and Sicyon,

sent their horse and mercenaries out of Argos, to have an eye

upon those cities, and they themselves went to Argos, to

celebrate the Nemean games.  Cleomenes, advertised of this

march, and hoping, as it afterward fell out, that upon an

unexpected advance to the city, now busied in the solemnity

of the games, and thronged with numerous spectators, he

should raise a considerable terror and confusion amongst

them, by night marched with his army to the walls, and taking

the quarter of the town called Aspis, which lies above the

theater, well fortified, and hard to be approached, he so

terrified them that none offered to resist, but they agreed

to accept a garrison, to give twenty citizens for hostages,

and to assist the Lacedaemonians, and that he should have the

chief command.

This action considerably increased his reputation and his

power; for the ancient Spartan kings, though they many ways

endeavored to effect it, could never bring Argos to be

permanently theirs.  And Pyrrhus, the most experienced

captain, though he entered the city by force, could not keep

possession, but was slain himself, with a considerable part

of his army.  Therefore they admired the dispatch and

contrivance of Cleomenes; and those that before derided him,

for imitating, as they said, Solon and Lycurgus, in releasing

the people from their debts, and in equalizing the property

of the citizens, were now fain to admit that this was the

cause of the change in the Spartans.  For before they were

very low in the world, and so unable to secure their own,

that the Aetolians, invading Laconia, brought away fifty

thousand slaves; so that one of the elder Spartans is

reported to have said, that they had done Laconia a kindness

by unburdening it; and yet a little while after, by merely

recurring once again to their native customs, and reentering

the track of the ancient discipline, they were able to give,

as though it had been under the eyes and conduct of Lycurgus

himself, the most signal instances of courage and obedience,

raising Sparta to her ancient place as the commanding state

of Greece, and recovering all Peloponnesus.

When Argos was captured, and Cleonae and Phlius came over, as

they did at once, to Cleomenes, Aratus was at Corinth,

searching after some who were reported to favor the Spartan

interest.  The news, being brought to him, disturbed him very

much; for he perceived the city inclining to Cleomenes, and

willing to be rid of the Achaeans.  Therefore he summoned the

citizens to meet in the Council Hall, and slipping away

without being observed to the gate, he mounted his horse that

had been brought for him thither, and fled to Sicyon.  And

the Corinthians made such haste to Cleomenes at Argos, that,

as Aratus says, striving who should be first there, they

spoiled all their horses; he adds that Cleomenes was very

angry with the Corinthians for letting him escape; and that

Megistonus came from Cleomenes to him, desiring him to

deliver up the castle at Corinth, which was then garrisoned

by the Achaeans, and offered him a considerable sum of money,

and that he answered, that matters were not now in his power,

but he in theirs.  Thus Aratus himself writes.  But

Cleomenes, marching from Argos, and taking in the

Troezenians, Epidaurians, and Hermioneans, came to Corinth,

and blocked up the castle, which the Achaeans would not

surrender; and sending for Aratus's friends and stewards,

committed his house and estate to their care and management;

and sent Tritymallus, the Messenian, to him a second time,

desiring that the castle might be equally garrisoned by the

Spartans and Achaeans, and promising to Aratus himself double

the pension that he received from king Ptolemy.  But Aratus,

refusing the conditions, and sending his own son with the

other hostages to Antigonus, and persuading the Achaeans to

make a decree for delivering the castle into Antigonus's

hands, upon this Cleomenes invaded the territory of the

Sicyonians, and by a decree of the Corinthians, accepted

Aratus's estate as a gift.

In the meantime, Antigonus, with a great army, was passing

Geranea; and Cleomenes, thinking it more advisable to fortify

and garrison, not the isthmus, but the mountains called Onea,

and by a war of posts and positions to weary the Macedonians,

rather than to venture a set battle with the highly

disciplined phalanx, put his design in execution, and very

much distressed Antigonus.  For he had not brought victuals

sufficient for his army; nor was it easy to force a way

through, whilst Cleomenes guarded the pass.  He attempted by

night to pass through Lechaeum, but failed, and lost some

men; so that Cleomenes and his army were mightily encouraged,

and so flushed with the victory, that they went merrily to

supper; and Antigonus was very much dejected, being driven,

by the necessity he was in, to most unpromising attempts.  He

was proposing to march to the promontory of Heraeum, and

thence transport his army in boats to Sicyon, which would

take up a great deal of time, and require much preparation

and means.  But when it was now evening, some of Aratus's

friends came from Argos by sea, and invited him to return,

for the Argives would revolt from Cleomenes.  Aristoteles was

the man that wrought the revolt, and he had no hard task to

persuade the common people; for they were all angry with

Cleomenes for not releasing them from their debts as they

expected.  Accordingly, obtaining fifteen hundred of

Antigonus's soldiers, Aratus sailed to Epidaurus; but

Aristoteles, not staying for his coming, drew out the

citizens, and fought against the garrison of the castle; and

Timoxenus, with the Achaeans from Sicyon, came to his

assistance.

Cleomenes heard the news about the second watch of the night,

and sending for Megistonus, angrily commanded him to go and

set things right at Argos.  Megistonus had passed his word

for the Argives' loyalty, and had persuaded him not to banish

the suspected.  Therefore, dispatching him with two thousand

soldiers, he himself kept watch upon Antigonus, and

encouraged the Corinthians, pretending that there was no

great matter in the commotions at Argos, but only a little

disturbance raised by a few inconsiderable persons.  But when

Megistonus, entering Argos, was slain, and the garrison could

scarce hold out, and frequent messengers came to Cleomenes

for succors, he, fearing least the enemy, having taken Argos,

should shut up the passes, and securely waste Laconia, and

besiege Sparta itself, which he had left without forces,

dislodged from Corinth, and immediately lost that city; for

Antigonus entered it, and garrisoned the town.  He turned

aside from his direct march, and assaulting the walls of

Argos, endeavored to carry it by a sudden attack and then,

having collected his forces from their march, breaking into

the Aspis, he joined the garrison, which still held out

against the Achaeans; some parts of the city he scaled and

took, and his Cretan archers cleared the streets.  But when

he saw Antigonus with his phalanx descending from the

mountains into the plain, and the horse on all sides entering

the city, he thought it impossible to maintain his post, and,

gathering together all his men, came safely down, and made

his retreat under the walls, having in so short a time

possessed himself of great power, and in one journey, so to

say, having made himself master of almost all Peloponnesus,

and now lost all again in as short a time.  For some of his

allies at once withdrew and forsook him, and others not long

after put their cities under Antigonus's protection.  His

hopes thus defeated, as he was leading back the relics of his

forces, messengers from Lacedaemon met him in the evening at

Tegea, and brought him, news of as great a misfortune as

that which he had lately suffered, and this was the death of

his wife, to whom he was so attached, and thought so much of

her, that even in his most successful expeditions, when he

was most prosperous, he could not refrain, but would ever now

and then come home to Sparta, to visit Agiatis.

This news afflicted him extremely, and he grieved, as a young

man would do, for the loss of a very beautiful and excellent

wife; yet he did not let his passion disgrace him, or impair

the greatness of his mind, but keeping his usual voice, his

countenance, and his habit, he gave necessary orders to his

captains, and took the precautions required for the safety of

Tegea.  Next morning he came to Sparta, and having at home

with his mother and children bewailed the loss, and finished

his mourning, he at once devoted himself to the public

affairs of the state.

Now Ptolemy, the king of Egypt, promised him assistance, but

demanded his mother and children for hostages.  This, for

some considerable time, he was ashamed to discover to his

mother; and though he often went to her on purpose, and was

just upon the discourse, yet he still refrained, and kept it

to himself; so that she began to suspect, and asked his

friends, whether Cleomenes had something to say to her, which

he was afraid to speak.  At last, Cleomenes venturing to tell

her, she laughed aloud, and said, "Was this the thing that

you had so often a mind to tell me, and were afraid?  Make

haste and put me on shipboard, and send this carcass where it

may be most serviceable to Sparta, before age destroys it

unprofitably here."  Therefore, all things being provided for

the voyage, they went by land to Taenarus, and the army

waited on them.  Cratesiclea, when she was ready to go on

board, took Cleomenes aside into Neptune's temple, and

embracing him, who was much dejected, and extremely

discomposed, she said, "Go to, king of Sparta; when we come

forth at the door, let none see us weep, or show any passion

that is unworthy of Sparta, for that alone is in our own

power; as for success or disappointment, those wait on us as

the deity decrees."  Having thus said, and composed her

countenance, she went to the ship with her little grandson,

and bade the pilot put at once out to sea.  When she came to

Egypt, and understood that Ptolemy entertained proposals and

overtures of peace from Antigonus, and that Cleomenes, though

the Achaeans invited and urged him to an agreement, was

afraid, for her sake, to come to any, without Ptolemy's

consent, she wrote to him, advising him to do that which was

most becoming and most profitable for Sparta, and not, for

the sake of an old woman and a little child, stand always in

fear of Ptolemy.  This character she maintained in her

misfortunes.

Antigonus, having taken Tegea, and plundered Orchomenus and

Mantinea, Cleomenes was shut up within the narrow bounds of

Laconia; and making such of the helots as could pay five

Attic pounds, free of Sparta, and, by that means, getting

together five hundred talents, and arming two thousand after

the Macedonian fashion, that he might make a body fit to

oppose Antigonus's Leucaspides he undertook a great and

unexpected enterprise.  Megalopolis was at that time a city

of itself as great and as powerful as Sparta, and had the

forces of the Achaeans and of Antigonus encamping beside it;

and it was chiefly the Megalopolitans' doing, that Antigonus

had been called in to assist the Achaeans.  Cleomenes,

resolving to snatch the city (no other word so well suits so

rapid and so surprising an action), ordered his men to take

five days' provision, and marched to Sellasia, as if he

intended to ravage the country of the Argives; but from

thence making a descent into the territories of Megalopolis,

and refreshing his army about Rhoeteum, he suddenly took the

road by Helicus, and advanced directly upon the city.  When

he was not far off the town, he sent Panteus, with two

regiments, to surprise a portion of the wall between two

towers, which he learnt to be the most unguarded quarter of

the Megalopolitans' fortifications, and with the rest of his

forces he followed leisurely.  Panteus not only succeeded at

that point, but finding a great part of the wall without

guards, he at once proceeded to pull it down in some places,

and make openings through it in others, and killed all the

defenders that he found.  Whilst he was thus busied,

Cleomenes came up to him, and was got with his army within

the city, before the Megalopolitans knew of the surprise.

When, after some time, they learned their misfortune, some

left the town immediately, taking with them what property

they could; others armed, and engaged the enemy; and through

they were not able to beat them out, yet they gave their

citizens time and opportunity safely to retire, so that there

were not above one thousand persons taken in the town, all

the rest flying, with their wives and children, and escaping

to Messene.  The greater number, also, of those that armed

and fought the enemy, were saved, and very few taken, amongst

whom were Lysandridas and Thearidas, two men of great power

and reputation amongst the Megalopolitans; and therefore the

soldiers, as soon as they were taken, brought them to

Cleomenes.  And Lysandridas, as soon as he saw Cleomenes afar

off, cried out, "Now, king of Sparta, it is in your power, by

doing a most kingly and a nobler action than you have

already performed, to purchase the greatest glory."  And

Cleomenes, guessing at his meaning, replied, "What,

Lysandridas, you will not surely advise me to restore your

city to you again?"  "It is that which I mean," Lysandridas

replied, "and I advise you not to ruin so brave a city, but

to fill it with faithful and steadfast friends and allies, by

restoring their country to the Megalopolitans, and being the

savior of so considerable a people."  Cleomenes paused a

while, and then said, "It is very hard to trust so far in

these matters; but with us let profit always yield to glory."

Having said this, he sent the two men to Messene with a

herald from himself, offering the Megalopolitans their city

again, if they would forsake the Achaean interest, and be on

his side.  But though Cleomenes made these generous and

humane proposals, Philopoemen would not suffer them to break

their league with the Achaeans; and accusing Cleomenes to the

people, as if his design was not to restore the city, but to

take the citizens too, he forced Thearidas and Lysandridas to

leave Messene.

This was that Philopoemen who was afterward chief of the

Achaeans and a man of the greatest reputation amongst the

Greeks, as I have refuted in his own life.  This news coming

to Cleomenes, though he had before taken strict care that the

city should not be plundered, yet then, being in anger, and

out of all patience, he despoiled the place of all the

valuables, and sent the statues and pictures to Sparta; and

demolishing a great part of the city, he marched away for

fear of Antigonus and the Achaeans; but they never stirred,

for they were at Aegium, at a council of war.  There Aratus

mounted the speaker's place, and wept a long while, holding

his mantle before his face; and at last, the company being

amazed, and commanding him to speak, he said, "Megalopolis is

destroyed by Cleomenes."  The assembly instantly dissolved,

the Achaeans being astounded at the suddenness and greatness

of the loss; and Antigonus, intending to send speedy succors,

when he found his forces gather very slowly out of their

winter-quarters, sent them orders to continue there still;

and he himself marched to Argos with a small body of men.

And now the second enterprise of Cleomenes, though it had the

look of a desperate and frantic adventure, yet in Polybius's

opinion, was done with mature deliberation and great

foresight.  For knowing very well that the Macedonians were

dispersed into their winter-quarters, and that Antigonus with

his friends and a few mercenaries about him wintered in

Argos, upon these considerations he invaded the country of

the Argives, hoping to shame Antigonus to a battle upon

unequal terms, or else, if he did not dare to fight, to bring

him into disrepute with the Achaeans.  And this accordingly

happened.  For Cleomenes wasting, plundering, and spoiling

the whole country, the Argives, in grief and anger at the

loss, gathered in crowds at the king's gates, crying out that

he should either fight, or surrender his command to better

and braver men.  But Antigonus, as became an experienced

captain, accounting it rather dishonorable foolishly to

hazard his army and quit his security, than merely to be

railed at by other people, would not march out against

Cleomenes, but stood firm to his convictions.  Cleomenes, in

the meantime, brought his army up to the very walls, and

having without opposition spoiled the country, and insulted

over his enemies, drew off again.

A little while after, being informed that Antigonus designed

a new advance to Tegea, and thence to invade Laconia, he

rapidly took his soldiers, and marching by a side road,

appeared early in the morning before Argos, and wasted the

fields about it.  The corn he did not cut down, as is usual,

with reaping hooks and knives, but beat it down with great

wooden staves made like broadswords, as if, in mere contempt

and wanton scorn, while traveling on his way, without any

effort or trouble, he spoiled and destroyed their harvest.

Yet when his soldiers would have set Cyllabaris, the exercise

ground, on fire, he stopped the attempt, as if he felt, that

the mischief he had done at Megalopolis had been the effects

of his passion rather than his wisdom.  And when Antigonus,

first of all, came hastily back to Argos, and then occupied

the mountains and passes with his posts, he professed to

disregard and despise it all; and sent heralds to ask for the

keys of the temple of Juno, as though he proposed to offer

sacrifice there and then return.  And with this scornful

pleasantry upon Antigonus, having sacrificed to the goddess

under the walls of the temple, which was shut, he went to

Phlius; and from thence driving out those that garrisoned

Oligyrtus, he marched down to Orchomenus.  And these

enterprises not only encouraged the citizens, but made him

appear to the very enemies to be a man worthy of high

command, and capable of great things.  For with the strength

of one city, not only to fight the power of the Macedonians

and all the Peloponnesians, supported by all the royal

treasures, not only to preserve Laconia from being spoiled,

but to waste the enemy's country, and to take so many and

such considerable cities, was an argument of no common skill

and genius for command.

But he that first said that money was the sinews of affairs,

seems especially in that saying to refer to war.  Demades,

when the Athenians had voted that their galleys should be

launched and equipped for action, but could produce no money,

told them, "The baker was wanted first, and the pilot after."

And the old Archidamus, in the beginning of the Peloponnesian

war, when the allies desired that the amount of their

contributions should be determined, is reported to have

answered, that war cannot be fed upon so much a day.  For as

wrestlers, who have thoroughly trained and disciplined their

bodies, in time tire down and exhaust the most agile and most

skillful combatant, so Antigonus, coming to the war with

great resources to spend from, wore out Cleomenes, whose

poverty made it difficult for him to provide the merest

sufficiency of pay for the mercenaries, or of provisions for

the citizens.  For, in all other respects, time favored

Cleomenes; for Antigonus's affairs at home began to be

disturbed.  For the barbarians wasted and overran Macedonia

whilst he was absent, and at that particular time a vast army

of Illyrians had entered the country; to be freed from whose

devastations, the Macedonians sent for Antigonus, and the

letters had almost been brought to him before the battle was

fought; upon the receipt of which he would at once have

marched away home, and left the Achaeans to look to

themselves.  But Fortune, that loves to determine the

greatest affairs by a minute, in this conjuncture showed such

an exact niceness of time, that immediately after the battle

in Sellasia was over, and Cleomenes had lost his army and his

city, the messengers came up and called for Antigonus.  And

this above everything made Cleomenes's misfortune to be

pitied; for if he had gone on retreating and had forborne

fighting two days longer, there had been no need of hazarding

a battle; since upon the departure of the Macedonians, he

might have had what conditions he pleased from the Achaeans.

But now, as was said before, for want of money, being

necessitated to trust everything to arms, he was forced with

twenty thousand (such is Polybius's account) to engage thirty

thousand.  And approving himself an admirable commander in

this difficulty, his citizens showing an extraordinary

courage, and his mercenaries bravery enough, he was overborne

by the different way of fighting, and the weight of the

heavy-armed phalanx.  Phylarchus also affirms, that the

treachery of some about him was the chief cause of

Cleomenes's ruin.

For Antigonus gave orders, that the Illyrians and Acarnanians

should march round by a secret way, and encompass the other

wing, which Euclidas, Cleomenes's brother, commanded; and

then drew out the rest of his forces to the battle.  And

Cleomenes, from a convenient rising, viewing his order, and

not seeing any of the Illyrians and Acarnanians, began to

suspect that Antigonus had sent them upon some such design,

and calling for Damoteles, who was at the head of those

specially appointed to such ambush duty, he bade him

carefully to look after and discover the enemy's designs upon

his rear.  But Damoteles, for some say Antigonus had bribed

him, telling him that he should not be solicitous about that

matter, for all was well enough, but mind and fight those

that met him in the front, he was satisfied, and advanced

against Antigonus; and by the vigorous charge of his

Spartans, made the Macedonian phalanx give ground, and

pressed upon them with great advantage about half a mile; but

then making a stand, and seeing the danger which the

surrounded wing, commanded by his brother Euclidas, was in,

he cried out, "Thou art lost, dear brother, thou art lost,

thou brave example to our Spartan youth, and theme of our

matrons' songs."  And Euclidas's wing being cut in pieces,

and the conquerors from that part falling upon him, he

perceived his soldiers to be disordered, and unable to

maintain the fight, and therefore provided for his own

safety.  There fell, we are told, in the battle, besides many

of the mercenary soldiers, all the Spartans, six thousand in

number, except two hundred.

When Cleomenes came into the city, he advised those citizens

that he met to receive Antigonus; and as for himself, he

said, which should appear most advantageous to Sparta,

whether his life or death, that he would choose.  Seeing the

women running out to those that had fled with him, taking

their arms, and bringing drink to them, he entered into his

own house, and his servant, who was a freeborn woman, taken

from Megalopolis after his wife's death, offering, as usual,

to do the service he needed on returning from war, though he

was very thirsty, he refused to drink, and though very weary,

to sit down; but in his corselet as he was, he laid his arm

sideways against a pillar, and leaning his forehead upon his

elbow, he rested his body a little while, and ran over in his

thoughts all the courses he could take; and then with his

friends set on at once for Gythium; where finding ships which

had been got ready for this very purpose, they embarked.

Antigonus, taking the city, treated the Lacedaemonians

courteously, and in no way offering any insult or offense to

the dignity of Sparta, but permitting them to enjoy their own

laws and polity, and sacrificing to the gods, dislodged the

third day.  For he heard that there was a great war in

Macedonia, and that the country was devastated by the

barbarians.  Besides, his malady had now thoroughly settled

into a consumption and continual catarrh.  Yet he still kept

up, and managed to return and deliver his country, and meet

there a more glorious death in a great defeat and vast

slaughter of the barbarians.  As Phylarchus says, and as is

probable in itself, he broke a blood vessel by shouting in

the battle itself.  In the schools we used to be told, that

after the victory was won, he cried out for joy, "O glorious

day!" and presently bringing up a quantity of blood, fell

into a fever, which never left him till his death.  And thus

much concerning Antigonus.

Cleomenes, sailing from Cythera, touched at another island

called Aegialia, whence as he was about to depart for Cyrene,

one of his friends, Therycion by name, a man of a noble

spirit in all enterprises, and bold and lofty in his talk,

came privately to him, and said thus: "Sir, death in battle,

which is the most glorious, we have let go; though all heard

us say that Antigonus should never tread over the king of

Sparta, unless dead.  And now that course which is next in

honor and virtue, is presented to us.  Whither do we madly

sail, flying the evil which is near, to seek that which is at

a distance?  For if it is not dishonorable for the race of

Hercules to serve the successors of Philip and Alexander, we

shall save a long voyage by delivering ourselves up to

Antigonus, who, probably, is as much better than Ptolemy, as

the Macedonians are better than the Egyptians; but if we

think it mean to submit to those whose arms have conquered

us, why should we choose him for our master, by whom we have

not yet been beaten?  Is it to acknowledge two superiors

instead of one, whilst we run away from Antigonus, and

flatter Ptolemy?  Or, is it for your mother's sake that you

retreat to Egypt?  It will indeed be a very fine and very

desirable sight for her, to show her son to Ptolemy's women,

now changed from a prince into an exile and a slave.  Are we

not still masters of our own swords?  And whilst we have

Laconia in view, shall we not here free ourselves from this

disgraceful misery, and clear ourselves to those who at

Sellasia died for the honor and defense of Sparta?  Or, shall

we sit lazily in Egypt, inquiring what news from Sparta, and

whom Antigonus hath been pleased to make governor of

Lacedaemon?"  Thus spoke Therycion; and this was Cleomenes's

reply: "By seeking death, you coward, the most easy and most

ready refuge, you fancy that you shall appear courageous and

brave, though this flight is baser than the former.  Better

men than we have given way to their enemies, having been

betrayed by fortune, or oppressed by multitude; but he that

gives way under labor or distresses, under the ill opinions

or reports of men, yields the victory to his own effeminacy.

For a voluntary death ought not to be chosen as a relief from

action, but as an exemplary action itself; and it is base

either to live or to die only to ourselves.  That death to

which you now invite us, is proposed only as a release from

our present miseries, but carries nothing of nobleness or

profit in it.  And I think it becomes both me and you not to

despair of our country; but when there are no hopes of that

left, those that have an inclination may quickly die."  To

this Therycion returned no answer but as soon as he had an

opportunity of leaving Cleomenes's company, went aside on the

sea-shore, and ran himself through.

But Cleomenes sailed from Aegialia, landed in Libya, and

being honorably conducted through the king's country, came to

Alexandria.  When he was first brought to Ptolemy, no more

than common civilities and usual attentions were paid him;

but when, upon trial, he found him a man of deep sense and

great reason, and that his plain Laconic way of conversation

carried with it a noble and becoming grace, that he did

nothing unbecoming his birth, nor bent under fortune, and was

evidently a more faithful counselor than those who made it

their business to please and flatter, he was ashamed, and

repented that he had neglected so great a man, and suffered

Antigonus to get so much power and reputation by ruining him.

He now offered him many marks of respect and kindness, and

gave him hopes that he would furnish him with ships and money

to return to Greece, and would reinstate him in his kingdom.

He granted him a yearly pension of four and twenty talents; a

little part of which sum supplied his and his friends'

thrifty temperance; and the rest was employed in doing good

offices to, and in relieving the necessities of the refugees

that had fled from Greece, and retired into Egypt.

But the elder Ptolemy dying before Cleomenes's affairs had

received a full dispatch, and the successor being a loose,

voluptuous, and effeminate prince, under the power of his

pleasures and his women, his business was neglected.  For the

king was so besotted with his women and his wine, that the

employments of his most busy and serious hours consisted at

the utmost in celebrating religious feasts in his palace,

carrying a timbrel, and taking part in the show; while the

greatest affairs of state were managed by Agathoclea, the

king's mistress, her mother, and the pimp Oenanthes.  At the

first, indeed, they seemed to stand in need of Cleomenes; for

Ptolemy, being afraid of his brother Magas, who by his

mother's means had a great interest amongst the soldiers,

gave Cleomenes a place in his secret councils, and acquainted

him with the design of taking off his brother.  He, though

all were for it, declared his opinion to the contrary,

saying, "The king, if it were possible, should have more

brothers for the better security and stability of his

affairs."  And Sosibius, the greatest favorite, replying,

that they were not secure of the mercenaries whilst Magas was

alive, Cleomenes returned, that he need not trouble himself

about that matter; for amongst the mercenaries there were

above three thousand Peloponnesians, who were his fast

friends, and whom he could command at any time with a nod.

This discourse made Cleomenes for the present to be looked

upon as a man of great influence and assured fidelity; but

afterwards, Ptolemy's weakness increasing his fear, and he,

as it usually happens, where there is no judgment and wisdom,

placing his security in general distrust and suspicion, it

rendered Cleomenes suspected to the courtiers, as having too

much interest with the mercenaries; and many had this saying

in their mouths, that he was a lion amidst a flock of sheep.

For, in fact, such he seemed to be in the court, quietly

watching, and keeping his eye upon all that went on.

He, therefore, gave up all thought of asking for ships and

soldiers from the king.  But receiving news that Antigonus

was dead, that the Achaeans were engaged in a war with the

Aetolians, and that the affairs of Peloponnesus, being now in

very great distraction and disorder, required and invited his

assistance, he desired leave to depart only with his friends,

but could not obtain that, the king not so much as hearing

his petition, being shut up amongst his women, and wasting

his hours in bacchanalian rites and drinking parties.  But

Sosibius, the chief minister and counselor of state, thought

that Cleomenes, being detained against his will, would grow

ungovernable and dangerous, and yet that it was not safe to

let him go, being an aspiring, daring man, and well

acquainted with the diseases and weakness of the kingdom.

For neither could presents and gifts conciliate or content

him; but even as Apis, while living in all possible plenty

and apparent delight, yet desires to live as nature would

provide for him, to range at liberty, and bound about the

fields, and can scarce endure to be under the priests'

keeping, so he could not brook their courtship and soft

entertainment, but sat like Achilles,

and languished far,

Desiring battle and the shout of war.

His affairs standing in this condition, Nicagoras, the

Messenian, came to Alexandria, a man that deeply hated

Cleomenes, yet pretended to be his friend; for he had

formerly sold Cleomenes a fair estate, but never received the

money, because Cleomenes was either unable, as it may be, or

else, by reason of his engagement in the wars and other

distractions, had no opportunity to pay him.  Cleomenes,

seeing him landing, for he was then walking upon the quay,

kindly saluted him, and asked what business brought him to

Egypt.  Nicagoras returned his compliment, and told him, that

he came to bring some excellent war-horses to the king.  And

Cleomenes, with a smile, subjoined, "I could wish you had

rather brought young boys and music-girls; for those now are

the king's chief occupation."  Nicagoras at the moment smiled

at the conceit; but a few days after, he put Cleomenes in

mind of the estate that he had bought of him, and desired his

money, protesting, that he would not have troubled him, if

his merchandise had turned out as profitable as he had

thought it would.  Cleomenes replied, that he had nothing

left of all that had been given him.  At which answer,

Nicagoras, being nettled, told Sosibius Cleomenes's scoff

upon the king.  He was delighted to receive the information;

but desiring to have some greater reason to excite the king

against Cleomenes, persuaded Nicagoras to leave a letter

written against Cleomenes, importing that he had a design, if

he could have gotten ships and soldiers, to surprise Cyrene.

Nicagoras wrote such a letter and left Egypt.  Four days

after, Sosibius brought the letter to Ptolemy, pretending it

was just then delivered him, and excited the young man's fear

and anger; upon which it was agreed, that Cleomenes should be

invited into a large house, and treated as formerly, but not

suffered to go out again.

This usage was grievous to Cleomenes, and another incident

that occurred, made him feel his hopes to be yet more

entirely overcast.  Ptolemy, the son of Chrysermas, a

favorite of the king's, had always shown civility to

Cleomenes; there was a considerable intimacy between them,

and they had been used to talk freely together about the

state.  He, upon Cleomenes's desire, came to him, and spoke

to him in fair terms, softening down his suspicions and

excusing the king's conduct.  But as he went out again, not

knowing that Cleomenes followed him to the door, he severely

reprimanded the keepers for their carelessness in looking

after "so great and so furious a wild beast."  This Cleomenes

himself heard, and retiring before Ptolemy perceived it, told

his friends what had been said.  Upon this they cast off all

their former hopes, and determined for violent proceedings,

resolving to be revenged on Ptolemy for his base and unjust

dealing, to have satisfaction for the affronts, to die as it

became Spartans, and not stay till, like fatted sacrifices,

they were butchered.  For it was both grievous and

dishonorable for Cleomenes, who had scorned to come to terms

with Antigonus, a brave warrior, and a man of action, to wait

an effeminate king's leisure, till he should lay aside his

timbrel and end his dance, and then kill him.

These courses being resolved on, and Ptolemy happening at the

same time to make a progress to Canopus, they first spread

abroad a report, that his freedom was ordered by the king,

and, it being the custom for the king to send presents and an

entertainment to those whom he would free, Cleomenes's

friends made that provision, and sent it into the prison,

thus imposing upon the keepers, who thought it had been sent

by the king.  For he sacrificed, and gave them large

portions, and with a garland upon his head, feasted and made

merry with his friends.  It is said that he began the action

sooner than he designed, having understood that a servant who

was privy to the plot, had gone out to visit a mistress that

he loved.  This made him afraid of a discovery; and

therefore, as soon as it was full noon, and all the keepers

sleeping off their wine, he put on his coat, and opening the

seam to bare his right shoulder, with his drawn sword in his

hand, he issued forth, together with his friends, provided in

the same manner, making thirteen in all.  One of them, by

name Hippitas, was lame, and followed the first onset very

well, but when he presently perceived that they were more

slow in their advances for his sake, he desired them to run

him through, and not ruin their enterprise by staying for an

useless, unprofitable man.  By chance an Alexandrian was then

riding by the door; him they threw off, and setting Hippitas

on horseback, ran through the streets, and proclaimed liberty

to the people.  But they, it seems, had courage enough to

praise and admire Cleomenes's daring, but not one had the

heart to follow and assist him.  Three of them fell on

Ptolemy, the son of Chrysermas, as he was coming out of the

palace, and killed him.  Another Ptolemy, the officer in

charge of the city, advancing against them in a chariot, they

set upon, dispersed his guards and attendants, and pulling

him out of the chariot, killed him upon the place.  Then they

made toward the castle, designing to break open the prison,

release those who were confined, and avail themselves of

their numbers; but the keepers were too quick for them, and

secured the passages.  Being baffled in this attempt,

Cleomenes with his company roamed about the city, none

joining with him, but all retreating from and flying his

approach.  Therefore, despairing of success, and saying to

his friends, that it was no wonder that women ruled over men

that were afraid of liberty, he bade them all die as bravely

as became his followers and their own past actions.  This

said, Hippitas was first, as he desired, run through by one

of the younger men, and then each of them readily and

resolutely fell upon his own sword, except Panteus, the same

who first surprised Megalopolis.  This man, being; of a very

handsome person, and a great lover of the Spartan discipline,

the king had made his dearest friend; and he now bade him,

when he had seen him and the rest fallen, die by their

example.  Panteus walked over them as they lay, and pricked

everyone with his dagger, to try whether any was alive, when

he pricked Cleomenes in the ankle, and saw him turn upon his

back, he kissed him, sat down by him, and when he was quite

dead, covered up the body, and then killed himself over it.

Thus fell Cleomenes, after the life which we have narrated,

having been king of Sparta sixteen years.  The news of their

fall being noised through the city, Cratesiclea, though a

woman of a great spirit, could not bear up against the weight

of this affliction; but embracing Cleomenes's children, broke

out into lamentations.  But the eldest boy, none suspecting

such a spirit in a child, threw himself headlong from the top

of the house.  He was bruised very much, but not killed by

the fall, and was taken up crying, and expressing his

resentment for not being permitted to destroy himself.

Ptolemy, as soon as an account of the action was brought him,

gave order that Cleomenes's body should be flayed and hung

up, and that his children, mother, and the women that were

with her, should be killed.  Amongst these was Panteus's

wife, a beautiful and noble-looking woman, who had been but

lately married, and suffered these disasters in the height of

her love.  Her parents would not have her embark with

Panteus, so shortly after they were married, though she

eagerly desired it, but shut her up, and kept her forcibly at

home.  But a few days after, she procured a horse and a

little money, and escaping by night, made speed to Taenarus,

where she embarked for Egypt, came to her husband, and with

him cheerfully endured to live in a foreign country.  She

gave her hand to Cratesiclea, as she was going with the

soldiers to execution, held up her robe, and begged her to be

courageous; who of herself was not in the least afraid of

death, and desired nothing else but only to be killed before

the children.  When they were come to the place of execution,

the children were first killed before Cratesiclea's eyes, and

afterward she herself, with only these words in her mouth, "O

children, whither are you gone?"  But Panteus's wife,

fastening her dress close about her, and being a strong

woman, in silence and perfect composure, looked after every

one that was slain, and laid them decently out as far as

circumstances would permit; and after all were killed,

rearraying her dress, and drawing her clothes close about

her, and suffering none to come near or be an eyewitness of

her fall, besides the executioner, she courageously submitted

to the stroke, and wanted nobody to look after her or wind

her up after she was dead.  Thus in her death the modesty of

her mind appeared, and set that guard upon her body which she

always kept when alive.  And she, in the declining age of the

Spartans, showed that women were no unequal rivals of the

men, and was an instance of a courage superior to the

affronts of fortune.

A few days after, those that watched the hanging body of

Cleomenes, saw a large snake winding about his head, and

covering his face, so that no bird of prey would fly at it.

This made the king superstitiously afraid, and set the women

upon several expiations, as if he had been some extraordinary

being, and one beloved by the gods, that had been slain.  And

the Alexandrians made processions to the place, and gave

Cleomenes the title of hero, and son of the gods, till the

philosophers satisfied them by saying, that as oxen breed

bees, putrefying horses breed wasps, and beetles rise from

the carcasses of dead asses, so the humors and juices of the

marrow of a man's body, coagulating, produce serpents.  And

this the ancients observing, appropriated a serpent, rather

than any other creature to heroes.

TIBERIUS GRACCHUS

Having completed the first two narratives, we now may proceed

to take a view of misfortunes, not less remarkable, in the

Roman couple, and with the lives of Agis and Cleomenes,

compare these of Tiberius and Caius.  They were the sons of

Tiberius Gracchus, who, though he had been once censor, twice

consul, and twice had triumphed, yet was more renowned and

esteemed for his virtue than his honors.  Upon this account,

after the death of Scipio who overthrew Hannibal, he was

thought worthy to match with his daughter Cornelia, though

there had been no friendship or familiarity between Scipio

and him, but rather the contrary.  There is a story told,

that he once found in his bedchamber a couple of snakes, and

that the soothsayers, being consulted concerning the prodigy,

advised, that he should neither kill them both nor let them

both escape; adding, that if the male serpent was killed,

Tiberius should die, and if the female, Cornelia.  And that,

therefore, Tiberius, who extremely loved his wife, and

thought, besides, that it was much more his part, who was an

old man, to die, than it was hers, who as yet was but a young

woman, killed the male serpent, and let the female escape;

and soon after himself died, leaving behind him twelve

children borne to him by Cornelia.

Cornelia, taking upon herself all the care of the household

and the education of her children, approved herself so

discreet a matron, so affectionate a mother, and so constant

and noble-spirited a widow, that Tiberius seemed to all men

to have done nothing unreasonable, in choosing to die for

such a woman; who, when king Ptolemy himself proffered her

his crown, and would have married her, refused it, and chose

rather to live a widow.  In this state she continued, and

lost all her children, except one daughter, who was married

to Scipio the younger, and two sons, Tiberius and Caius,

whose lives we are now writing.

These she brought up with such care, that though they were

without dispute in natural endowments and dispositions the

first among the Romans of their time, yet they seemed to owe

their virtues even more to their education than to their

birth.  And as, in the statues and pictures made of Castor

and Pollux, though the brothers resemble one another, yet

there is a difference to be perceived in their countenances,

between the one, who delighted in the cestus, and the other,

that was famous in the course, so between these two noble

youths, though there was a strong general likeness in their

common love of fortitude and temperance, in their liberality,

their eloquence, and their greatness of mind, yet in their

actions and administrations of public affairs, a considerable

variation showed itself.  It will not be amiss, before we

proceed, to mark the difference between them.

Tiberius, in the form and expression of his countenance, and

in his gesture and motion, was gentle and composed; but

Caius, earnest and vehement.  And so, in their public

speeches to the people, the one spoke in a quiet orderly

manner, standing throughout on the same spot; the other would

walk about on the hustings, and in the heat of his orations,

pull his gown off his shoulders, and was the first of all the

Romans that used such gestures; as Cleon is said to have been

the first orator among the Athenians that pulled off his

cloak and smote his thigh, when addressing the people.

Caius's oratory was impetuous and passionate, making

everything tell to the utmost, whereas Tiberius was gentle,

rather, and persuasive, awakening emotions of pity.  His

diction was pure, and carefully correct, while that of Caius

was vehement and rich.  So likewise in their way of living,

and at their tables, Tiberius was frugal and plain, Caius,

compared with other men temperate and even austere, but

contrasting with his brother in a fondness for new fashions

and rarities, as appears in Drusus's charge against him, that

he had bought some silver dolphins, to the value of twelve

hundred and fifty drachmas for every pound weight.

The same difference that appeared in their diction, was

observable also in their tempers.  The one was mild and

reasonable, the other rough and passionate, and to that

degree, that often, in the midst of speaking, he was so

hurried away by his passion, against his judgment, that his

voice lost its tone, and he began to pass into mere abusive

talking, spoiling his whole speech.  As a remedy to this

excess, he made use of an ingenious servant of his, one

Licinius, who stood constantly behind him with a sort of

pitch-pipe, or instrument to regulate the voice by, and

whenever he perceived his master's tone alter, and break with

anger, he struck a soft note with his pipe, on hearing which,

Caius immediately checked the vehemence of his passion and

his voice, grew quieter, and allowed himself to be recalled

to temper.  Such are the differences between the two

brothers; but their valor in war against their country's

enemies, their justice in the government of its subjects,

their care and industry in office, and their self-command in

all that regarded their pleasures were equally remarkable in

both.

Tiberius was the elder by nine years; owing to which their

actions as public men were divided by the difference of the

times in which those of the one and those of the other were

performed.  And one of the principal causes of the failure of

their enterprises was this interval between their careers,

and the want of combination of their efforts.  The power they

would have exercised, had they flourished both together,

could scarcely have failed to overcome all resistance.  We

must therefore give an account of each of them singly, and

first of the eldest.

Tiberius, immediately on his attaining manhood, had such a

reputation, that he was admitted into the college of the

augurs, and that in consideration more of his early virtue

than of his noble birth.  This appeared by what Appius

Claudius did, who, though he had been consul and censor, and

was now the head of the Roman senate, and had the highest

sense of his own place and merit, at a public feast of the

augurs, addressed himself openly to Tiberius, and with great

expressions of kindness, offered him his daughter in

marriage.  And when Tiberius gladly accepted, and the

agreement had thus been completed, Appius, returning home, no

sooner had reached his door, but he called to his wife and

cried out in a loud voice, "O Antistia, I have contracted our

daughter Claudia to a husband."  She, being amazed, answered,

"But why so suddenly, or what means this haste? Unless you

have provided Tiberius Gracchus for her husband."  I am not

ignorant that some apply this story to Tiberius, the father

of the Gracchi, and Scipio Africanus; but most relate it as

we have done.  And Polybius writes, that after the death of

Scipio Africanus, the nearest relations of Cornelia,

preferring Tiberius to all other competitors, gave her to him

in marriage, not having been engaged or promised to anyone

by her father.

This young Tiberius, accordingly, serving in Africa under the

younger Scipio, who had married his sister, and living there

under the same tent with him, soon learned to estimate the

noble spirit of his commander, which was so fit to inspire

strong feelings of emulation in virtue and desire to prove

merit in action, and in a short time he excelled all the

young men of the army in obedience and courage; and he was

the first that mounted the enemy's wall, as Fannius says, who

writes, that he himself climbed up with him, and was partaker

in the achievement.  He was regarded, while he continued with

the army, with great affection; and left behind him on his

departure a strong desire for his return.

After that expedition, being chosen paymaster, it was his

fortune to serve in the war against the Numantines, under the

command of Caius Mancinus, the consul, a person of no bad

character, but the most unfortunate of all the Roman

generals.  Notwithstanding, amidst the greatest misfortunes,

and in the most unsuccessful enterprises, not only the

discretion and valor of Tiberius, but also, which was still

more to be admired, the great respect and honor which he

showed for his general, were most eminently remarkable;

though the general himself, when reduced to straits, forgot

his own dignity and office.  For being beaten in various

great battles, he endeavored to dislodge by night, and leave

his camp; which the Numantines perceiving, immediately

possessed themselves of his camp, and pursuing that part of

the forces which was in flight, slew those that were in the

rear, hedged the whole army in on every side, and forced them

into difficult ground, whence there could be no possibility

of an escape.  Mancinus, despairing to make his way through

by force, sent a messenger to desire a truce, and conditions

of peace.  But they refused to give their confidence to any

one except Tiberius, and required that he should be sent to

treat with them.  This was not only in regard to the young

man's own character, for he had a great reputation amongst

the soldiers, but also in remembrance of his father Tiberius,

who, in his command against the Spaniards, had reduced great

numbers of them to subjection, but granted a peace to the

Numantines, and prevailed upon the Romans to keep it

punctually and inviolably.

Tiberius was accordingly dispatched to the enemy, whom he

persuaded to accept of several conditions, and he himself

complied with others; and by this means it is beyond a

question, that he saved twenty thousand of the Roman

citizens, besides attendants and camp followers.  However,

the Numantines retained possession of all the property they

had found and plundered in the encampment; and amongst other

things were Tiberius's books of accounts, containing the

whole transactions of his quaestorship, which he was

extremely anxious to recover.  And therefore, when the army

were already upon their march, he returned to Numantia,

accompanied with only three or four of his friends; and

making his application to the officers of the Numantines, he

entreated that they would return him his books, lest his

enemies should have it in their power to reproach him with

not being able to give an account of the monies entrusted to

him.  The Numantines joyfully embraced this opportunity of

obliging him, and invited him into the city; as he stood

hesitating, they came up and took him by the hands, and

begged that he would no longer look upon them as enemies, but

believe them to be his friends, and treat them as such.

Tiberius thought it well to consent, desirous as he was to

have his books returned, and was afraid lest he should

disoblige them by showing any distrust.  As soon as he

entered into the city, they first offered him food, and made

every kind of entreaty that he would sit down and eat

something in their company.  Afterwards they returned his

books, and gave him the liberty to take whatever he wished

for in the remaining spoils.  He, on the other hand, would

accept of nothing but some frankincense, which he used in his

public sacrifices, and, bidding them farewell with every

expression of kindness, departed.

When he returned to Rome, he found the whole transaction

censured and reproached, as a proceeding that was base, and

scandalous to the Romans.  But the relations and friends of

the soldiers, forming a large body among the people, came

flocking to Tiberius, whom they acknowledged as the preserver

of so many citizens, imputing to the general all the

miscarriages which had happened.  Those who cried out against

what had been done, urged for imitation the example of their

ancestors, who stripped and handed over to the Samnites not

only the generals who had consented to the terms of release,

but also all the quaestors, for example, and tribunes, who

had in any way implicated themselves in the agreement, laying

the guilt of perjury and breach of conditions on their heads.

But, in this affair, the populace, showing an extraordinary

kindness and affection for Tiberius, indeed voted that the

consul should be stripped and put in irons, and so delivered

to the Numantines; but for the sake of Tiberius, spared all

the other officers.  It may be probable, also, that Scipio,

who at that time was the greatest and most powerful man among

the Romans, contributed to save him, though indeed he was

also censured for not protecting Mancinus too, and that he

did not exert himself to maintain the observance of the

articles of peace which had been agreed upon by his kinsman

and friend Tiberius.  But it may be presumed that the

difference between them was for the most part due to

ambitious feelings, and to the friends and reasoners who

urged on Tiberius, and, as it was, it never amounted to any

thing that might not have been remedied, or that was really

bad.  Nor can I think that Tiberius would ever have met with

his misfortunes, if Scipio had been concerned in dealing with

his measures; but he was away fighting at Numantia, when

Tiberius, upon the following occasion, first came forward as

a legislator.

Of the land which the Romans gained by conquest from their

neighbors, part they sold publicly, and turned the remainder

into common; this common land they assigned to such of the

citizens as were poor and indigent, for which they were to

pay only a small acknowledgment into the public treasury.

But when the wealthy men began to offer larger rents, and

drive the poorer people out, it was enacted by law, that no

person whatever should enjoy more than five hundred acres of

ground.  This act for some time checked the avarice of the

richer, and was of great assistance to the poorer people, who

retained under it their respective proportions of ground, as

they had been formerly rented by them.  Afterwards the rich

men of the neighborhood contrived to get these lands again

into their possession, under other people's names, and at

last would not stick to claim most of them publicly in their

own.  The poor, who were thus deprived of their farms, were

no longer either ready, as they had formerly been, to serve

in war, or careful in the education of their children;

insomuch that in a short time there were comparatively few

freemen remaining in all Italy, which swarmed with workhouses

full of foreign-born slaves.  These the rich men employed in

cultivating their ground, of which they dispossessed the

citizens.  Caius Laelius, the intimate friend of Scipio,

undertook to reform this abuse; but meeting with opposition

from men of authority, and fearing a disturbance, he soon

desisted, and received the name of the Wise or the Prudent,

both which meanings belong to the Latin word Sapiens.

But Tiberius, being elected tribune of the people, entered

upon that design without delay, at the instigation, as is

most commonly stated, of Diophanes, the rhetorician, and

Blossius, the philosopher.  Diophanes was a refugee from

Mitylene, the other was an Italian, of the city of Cuma, and

was educated there under Antipater of Tarsus, who afterwards

did him the honor to dedicate some of his philosophical

lectures to him.  Some have also charged Cornelia, the mother

of Tiberius, with contributing towards it, because she

frequently upbraided her sons, that the Romans as yet rather

called her the daughter of Scipio, than the mother of the

Gracchi.  Others again say Spurius Postumius was the chief

occasion.  He was a man of the same age with Tiberius, and

his rival for reputation as a public speaker; and when

Tiberius, at his return from the campaign, found him to have

got far beyond him in fame and influence, and to be much

looked up to, he thought to outdo him, by attempting a

popular enterprise of this difficulty, and of such great

consequence.  But his brother Caius has left it us in

writing, that when Tiberius went through Tuscany to Numantia,

and found the country almost depopulated, there being hardly

any free husbandmen or shepherds, but for the most part only

barbarian, imported slaves, he then first conceived the

course of policy which in the sequel proved so fatal to his

family.  Though it is also most certain that the people

themselves chiefly excited his zeal and determination in the

prosecution of it, by setting up writings upon the porches,

walls, and monuments, calling upon him to reinstate the poor

citizens in their former possessions.

However, he did not draw up his law without the advice and

assistance of those citizens that were then most eminent for

their virtue and authority; amongst whom were Crassus, the

high-priest, Mucius Scaevola, the lawyer, who at that time

was consul, and Claudius Appius, his father-in-law.  Never

did any law appear more moderate and gentle, especially being

enacted against such great oppression and avarice.  For they

who ought to have been severely punished for transgressing

the former laws, and should at least have lost all their

titles to such lands which they had unjustly usurped, were

notwithstanding to receive a price for quitting their

unlawful claims, and giving up their lands to those fit

owners who stood in need of help.  But though this

reformation was managed with so much tenderness, that, all

the former transactions being passed over, the people were

only thankful to prevent abuses of the like nature for the

future, yet, on the other hand, the moneyed men, and those of

great estates were exasperated, through their covetous

feelings against the law itself, and against the law giver,

through anger and party spirit.  They therefore endeavored to

seduce the people, declaring that Tiberius was designing a

general redivision of lands, to overthrow the government, and

put all things into confusion.

But they had no success.  For Tiberius, maintaining an

honorable and just cause, and possessed of eloquence

sufficient to have made a less creditable action appear

plausible, was no safe or easy antagonist, when, with the

people crowding around the hustings, he took his place, and

spoke in behalf of the poor.  "The savage beasts," said he,

"in Italy, have their particular dens, they have their places

of repose and refuge; but the men who bear arms, and expose

their lives for the safety of their country, enjoy in the

meantime nothing more in it but the air and light; and

having no houses or settlements of their own, are constrained

to wander from place to place with their wives and children."

He told them that the commanders were guilty of a ridiculous

error, when, at the head of their armies, they exhorted the

common soldiers to fight for their sepulchres and altars;

when not any amongst so many Romans is possessed of either

altar or monument, neither have they any houses of their own,

or hearths of their ancestors to defend.  They fought indeed,

and were slain, but it was to maintain the luxury and the

wealth of other men.  They were styled the masters of the

world, but in the meantime had not one foot of ground which

they could call their own.  A harangue of this nature,

spoken to an enthusiastic and sympathizing audience, by a

person of commanding spirit and genuine feeling, no

adversaries at that time were competent to oppose.

Forbearing, therefore, all discussion and debate, they

addressed themselves to Marcus Octavius, his fellow-tribune,

who, being a young man of a steady, orderly character, and an

intimate friend of Tiberius, upon this account declined at

first the task of opposing him; but at length, over-persuaded

with the repeated importunities of numerous considerable

persons, he was prevailed upon to do so, and hindered the

passing of the law; it being the rule that any tribune has a

power to hinder an act, and that all the rest can effect

nothing, if only one of them dissents.  Tiberius, irritated

at these proceedings, presently laid aside this milder bill,

but at the same time preferred another; which, as it was more

grateful to the common people, so it was much more severe

against the wrongdoers, commanding them to make an immediate

surrender of all lands which, contrary to former laws, had

come into their possession.  Hence there arose daily

contentions between him and Octavius in their orations.

However, though they expressed themselves with the utmost

heat and determination, they yet were never known to descend

to any personal reproaches, or in their passion to let slip

any indecent expressions, so as to derogate from one another.

For not alone

In revelings and Bacchic play,

but also in contentions and political animosities, a noble

nature and a temperate education stay and compose the mind.

Observing, however, that Octavius himself was an offender

against this law, and detained a great quantity of ground

from the commonalty, Tiberius desired him to forbear opposing

him any further, and proffered, for the public good, though

he himself had but an indifferent estate, to pay a price for

Octavius's share at his own cost and charges.  But upon the

refusal of this proffer by Octavius, he then interposed an

edict, prohibiting all magistrates to exercise their

respective functions, till such time as the law was either

ratified or rejected by public votes.  He further sealed up

the gates of Saturn's temple, so that the treasurers could

neither take any money out from thence, or put any in.  He

threatened to impose a severe fine upon those of the praetors

who presumed to disobey his commands, insomuch that all the

officers, for fear of this penalty, intermitted the exercise

of their several jurisdictions.  Upon this, the rich

proprietors put themselves into mourning, went up and down

melancholy and dejected; they entered also into a conspiracy

against Tiberius, and procured men to murder him; so that he

also, with all men's knowledge, whenever he went abroad, took

with him a sword-staff, such as robbers use, called in Latin

a dolo.

When the day appointed was come, and the people summoned to

give their votes, the rich men seized upon the voting urns,

and carried them away by force; thus all things were in

confusion.  But when Tiberius's party appeared strong enough

to oppose the contrary faction, and drew together in a body,

with the resolution to do so, Manlius and Fulvius, two of the

consular quality, threw themselves before Tiberius, took him

by the hand, and with tears in their eyes, begged of him to

desist.  Tiberius, considering the mischiefs that were all

but now occurring, and having a great respect for two such

eminent persons, demanded of them what they would advise him

to do.  They acknowledged themselves unfit to advise in a

matter of so great importance, but earnestly entreated him to

leave it to the determination of the senate.  But when the

senate assembled, and could not bring the business to any

result, through the prevalence of the rich faction, he then

was driven to a course neither legal nor fair, and proposed

to deprive Octavius of his tribuneship, it being impossible

for him in any other way to get the law brought to the vote.

At first he addressed him publicly, with entreaties couched

in the kindest terms, and taking him by his hands, besought

him, that now, in the presence of all the people, he would

take this opportunity to oblige them, in granting only that

request which was in itself so just and reasonable, being but

a small recompense in regard of those many dangers and

hardships which they had undergone for the public safety.

Octavius, however, would by no means be persuaded to

compliance; upon which Tiberius declared openly, that seeing

they two were united in the same office, and of equal

authority, it would be a difficult matter to compose their

difference on so weighty a matter without a civil war; and

that the only remedy which he knew, must be the deposing one

of them from their office.  He desired, therefore, that

Octavius would summon the people to pass their verdict upon

him first, averring that he would willingly relinquish his

authority if the citizens desired it.  Octavius refused; and

Tiberius then said he would himself put to the people the

question of Octavius's deposition, if upon mature

deliberation he did not alter his mind; and after this

declaration, he adjourned the assembly till the next day.

When the people were met together again, Tiberius placed

himself in the rostra, and endeavored a second time to

persuade Octavius.  But all being to no purpose, he referred

the whole matter to the people, calling on them to vote at

once, whether Octavius should be deposed or not; and when

seventeen of the thirty-five tribes had already voted against

him, and there wanted only the votes of one tribe more for

his final deprivation, Tiberius put a short stop to the

proceedings, and once more renewed his importunities; he

embraced and kissed him before all the assembly, begging,

with all the earnestness imaginable, that he would neither

suffer himself to incur the dishonor, nor him to be reputed

the author and promoter of so odious a measure.  Octavius, we

are told, did seem a little softened and moved with these

entreaties; his eyes filled with tears, and he continued

silent for a considerable time.  But presently looking

towards the rich men and proprietors of estates, who stood

gathered in a body together, partly for shame, and partly for

fear of disgracing himself with them, he boldly bade Tiberius

use any severity he pleased.  The law for his deprivation

being thus voted, Tiberius ordered one of his servants, whom

he had made a freeman, to remove Octavius from the rostra,

employing his own domestic freed servants in the stead of the

public officers.  And it made the action seem all the sadder,

that Octavius was dragged out in such an ignominious manner.

The people immediately assaulted him, whilst the rich men ran

in to his assistance.  Octavius, with some difficulty, was

snatched away, and safely conveyed out of the crowd; though a

trusty servant of his, who had placed himself in front of his

master that he might assist his escape, in keeping off the

multitude, had his eyes struck out, much to the displeasure

of Tiberius, who ran with all haste, when he perceived the

disturbance, to appease the rioters.

This being done, the law concerning the lands was ratified

and confirmed, and three commissioners were appointed, to

make a survey of the grounds and see the same equally

divided.  These were Tiberius himself, Claudius Appius, his

father-in-law, and his brother, Caius Gracchus, who at this

time was not at Rome, but in the army under the command of

Scipio Africanus before Numantia.  These things were

transacted by Tiberius without any disturbance, none daring

to offer any resistance to him, besides which, he gave the

appointment as tribune in Octavius's place, not to any person

of distinction, but to a certain Mucius, one of his own

clients.  The great men of the city were therefore utterly

offended, and, fearing lest he should grow yet more popular,

they took all opportunities of affronting him publicly in the

senate house.  For when he requested, as was usual, to have a

tent provided at the public charge for his use, while

dividing the lands, though it was a favor commonly granted to

persons employed in business of much less importance, it was

peremptorily refused to him; and the allowance made him for

his daily expenses was fixed to nine obols only.  The chief

promoter of these affronts was Publius Nasica, who openly

abandoned himself to his feelings of hatred against Tiberius,

being a large holder of the public lands, and not a little

resenting now to be turned out of them by force.  The people,

on the other hand, were still more and more excited, insomuch

that a little after this, it happening that one of Tiberius's

friends died suddenly, and his body being marked with

malignant-looking spots, they ran, in tumultuous manner, to

his funeral, crying aloud that the man was poisoned.  They

took the bier upon their shoulders, and stood over it, while

it was placed on the pile, and really seemed to have fair

grounds for their suspicion of foul play.  For the body burst

open, and such a quantity of corrupt humors issued out, that

the funeral fire was extinguished, and when it was again

kindled, the wood still would not burn; insomuch that they

were constrained to carry the corpse to another place, where

with much difficulty it took fire.  Besides this, Tiberius,

that he might incense the people yet more, put himself into

mourning, brought his children amongst the crowd, and

entreated the people to provide for them and their mother, as

if he now despaired of his own security.

About this time, king Attalus, surnamed Philometor, died, and

Eudemus, a Pergamenian, brought his last will to Rome, by

which he had made the Roman people his heirs.  Tiberius, to

please the people, immediately proposed making a law, that

all the money which Attalus left, should be distributed

amongst such poor citizens as were to be sharers of the

public lands, for the better enabling them to proceed in

stocking and cultivating their ground; and as for the cities

that were in the territories of Attalus, he declared that the

disposal of them did not at all belong to the senate, but to

the people, and that he himself would ask their pleasure

herein.  By this he offended the senate more than ever he had

done before, and Pompeius stood up, and acquainted them that

he was the next neighbor to Tiberius, and so had the

opportunity of knowing that Eudemus, the Pergamenian, had

presented Tiberius with a royal diadem and a purple robe, as

before long he was to be king of Rome.  Quintus Metellus also

upbraided him, saying, that when his father was censor, the

Romans, whenever he happened to be going home from a supper,

used to put out all their lights, lest they should be seen to

have indulged themselves in feastings and drinking at

unseasonable hours, whereas, now, the most indigent and

audacious of the people were found with their torches at

night, following Tiberius home.  Titus Annius, a man of no

great repute for either justice or temperance, but famous for

his skill in putting and answering questions, challenged

Tiberius to the proof by wager, declaring him to have deposed

a magistrate who by law was sacred and inviolable.  Loud

clamor ensued, and Tiberius, quitting the senate hastily,

called together the people, and summoning Annius to appear,

was proceeding to accuse him.  But Annius, being no great

speaker, nor of any repute compared to him, sheltered himself

in his own particular art, and desired that he might propose

one or two questions to Tiberius, before he entered upon the

chief argument.  This liberty being granted, and silence

proclaimed, Annius proposed his question.  "If you," said he,

"had a design to disgrace and defame me, and I should apply

myself to one of your colleagues for redress, and he should

come forward to my assistance, would you for that reason fall

into a passion, and depose him?"  Tiberius, they say, was so

much disconcerted at this question, that, though at other

times his assurance as well as his readiness of speech was

always remarkable, yet now he was silent and made no reply.

For the present he dismissed the assembly.  But beginning to

understand that the course he had taken with Octavius had

created offense even among the populace as well as the

nobility, because the dignity of the tribunes seemed to be

violated, which had always continued till that day sacred and

honorable, he made a speech to the people in justification of

himself; out of which it may not be improper to collect some

particulars, to give an impression of his force and

persuasiveness in speaking.  "A tribune," he said, "of the

people, is sacred indeed, and ought to be inviolable, because

in a manner consecrated to be the guardian and protector of

them; but if he degenerate so far as to oppress the people,

abridge their powers, and take away their liberty of voting,

he stands deprived by his own act of his honors and

immunities, by the neglect of the duty, for which the honor

was bestowed upon him.  Otherwise we should be under the

obligation to let a tribune do his pleasure, though he should

proceed to destroy the capitol or set fire to the arsenal.

He who should make these attempts, would be a bad tribune.

He who assails the power of the people, is no longer a

tribune at all.  Is it not inconceivable, that a tribune

should have power to imprison a consul, and the people have

no authority to degrade him when he uses that honor which he

received from them, to their detriment? For the tribunes, as

well as the consuls, hold office by the people's votes.  The

kingly government, which comprehends all sorts of authority

in itself alone, is morever elevated by the greatest and most

religious solemnity imaginable into a condition of sanctity.

But the citizens, notwithstanding this, deposed Tarquin, when

he acted wrongfully; and for the crime of one single man, the

ancient government under which Rome was built, was abolished

forever.  What is there in all Rome so sacred and venerable

as the vestal virgins, to whose care alone the preservation

of the eternal fire is committed? yet if one of these

transgress, she is buried alive; the sanctity which for the

gods' sakes is allowed them, is forfeited when they offend

against the gods.  So likewise a tribune retains not his

inviolability, which for the people's sake was accorded to

him, when he offends against the people, and attacks the

foundations of that authority from whence he derived his own.

We esteem him to be legally chosen tribune who is elected

only by the majority of votes; and is not therefore the same

person much more lawfully degraded, when by a general consent

of them all, they agree to depose him?  Nothing is so sacred

as religious offerings; yet the people were never prohibited

to make use of them, but suffered to remove and carry them

wherever they pleased; so likewise, as it were some sacred

present, they have lawful power to transfer the tribuneship

from one man's hands to another's.  Nor can that authority be

thought inviolable and irremovable which many of those who

have held it, have of their own act surrendered, and desired

to be discharged from."

These were the principal heads of Tiberius's apology.  But

his friends, apprehending the dangers which seemed to

threaten him, and the conspiracy that was gathering head

against him, were of opinion, that the safest way would be

for him to petition that he might be continued tribune for

the year ensuing.  Upon this consideration, he again

endeavored to secure the people's good-will with fresh laws,

making the years of serving in the war fewer than formerly,

granting liberty of appeal from the judges to the people, and

joining to the senators, who were judges at that time, an

equal number of citizens of the horsemen's degree,

endeavoring as much as in him lay to lessen the power of the

senate, rather from passion and partisanship than from any

rational regard to equity and the public good.  And when it

came to the question, whether these laws should be passed,

and they perceived that the opposite party were strongest,

the people as yet being not got together in a full body, they

began first of all to gain time by speeches in accusation of

some of their fellow-magistrates, and at length adjourned the

assembly till the day following.

Tiberius then went down into the marketplace amongst the

people, and made his addresses to them humbly and with tears

in his eyes; and told them, he had just reason to suspect,

that his adversaries would attempt in the night time to break

open his house, and murder him.  This worked so strongly with

the multitude, that several of them pitched tents round about

his house, and kept guard all night for the security of his

person.  By break of day came one of the soothsayers, who

prognosticate good or bad success by the pecking of fowls,

and threw them something to eat.  The soothsayer used his

utmost endeavors to fright the fowls out of their coop; but

none of them except one would venture out, which fluttered

with its left wing, and stretched out its leg, and ran back

again into the coop, without eating anything.  This put

Tiberius in mind of another ill omen which had formerly

happened to him.  He had a very costly headpiece, which he

made use of when he engaged in any battle, and into this

piece of armor two serpents crawled, laid eggs, and brought

forth young ones.  The remembrance of which made Tiberius

more concerned now, than otherwise he would have been.

However, he went towards the capitol, as soon as he

understood that the people were assembled there; but before

he got out of the house, he stumbled upon the threshold with

such violence, that he broke the nail of his great toe,

insomuch that blood gushed out of his shoe.  He was not gone

very far before he saw two ravens fighting on the top of a

house which stood on his left hand as he passed along; and

though he was surrounded with a number of people, a stone,

struck from its place by one of the ravens, fell just at his

foot.  This even the boldest men about him felt as a check.

But Blossius of Cuma, who was present, told him, that it

would be a shame, and an ignominious thing, for Tiberius, who

was the son of Gracchus, the grandson of Scipio Africanus,

and the protector of the Roman people, to refuse, for fear of

a silly bird, to answer, when his countrymen called to him;

and that his adversaries would represent it not as a mere

matter for their ridicule, but would declaim about it to the

people as the mark of a tyrannical temper, which felt a pride

in taking liberties with the people.  At the same time

several messengers came also from his friends, to desire his

presence at the capitol, saying that all things went there

according to expectation.  And indeed Tiberius's first

entrance there was in every way successful; as soon as ever

he appeared, the people welcomed him with loud acclamations,

and as he went up to his place, they repeated their

expressions of joy, and gathered in a body around him, so

that no one who was not well known to be his friend, might

approach.  Mucius then began to put the business again to the

vote; but nothing could be performed in the usual course and

order, because of the disturbance caused by those who were on

the outside of the crowd, where there was a struggle going on

with those of the opposite party, who were pushing on and

trying to force their way in and establish themselves among

them.

Whilst things were in this confusion, Flavius Flaccus, a

senator, standing in a place where he could be seen, but at

such a distance from Tiberius that he could not make him

hear, signified to him by motions of his hand, that he wished

to impart something of consequence to him in private.

Tiberius ordered the multitude to make way for him, by which

means, though not without some difficulty, Flavius got to

him, and informed him, that the rich men, in a sitting of the

senate, seeing they could not prevail upon the consul to

espouse their quarrel, had come to a final determination

amongst themselves, that he should be assassinated, and to

that purpose had a great number of their friends and servants

ready armed to accomplish it.  Tiberius no sooner

communicated this confederacy to those about him, but they

immediately tucked up their gowns, broke the halberts which

the officers used to keep the crowd off into pieces, and

distributed them among themselves, resolving to resist the

attack with these.  Those who stood at a distance wondered,

and asked what was the occasion; Tiberius, knowing that they

could not hear him at that distance, lifted his hand to his

head, wishing to intimate the great danger which he

apprehended himself to be in.  His adversaries, taking notice

of that action, ran off at once to the senate house, and

declared, that Tiberius desired the people to bestow a crown

upon him, as if this were the meaning of his touching his

head.  This news created general confusion in the senators,

and Nasica at once called upon the consul to punish this

tyrant, and defend the government.  The consul mildly

replied, that he would not be the first to do any violence;

and as he would not suffer any freeman to be put to death,

before sentence had lawfully passed upon him, so neither

would he allow any measure to be carried into effect, if by

persuasion or compulsion on the part of Tiberius the people

had been induced to pass any unlawful vote.  But Nasica,

rising from his seat, "Since the consul," said he, "regards

not the safety of the commonwealth, let everyone who will

defend the laws, follow me."  He, then, casting the skirt of

his gown over his head, hastened to the capitol; those who

bore him company, wrapped their gowns also about their arms.

and forced their way after him.  And as they were persons of

the greatest authority in the city, the common people did not

venture to obstruct their passing, but were rather so eager

to clear the way for them, that they tumbled over one another

in haste.  The attendants they brought with them, had

furnished themselves with clubs and staves from their houses,

and they themselves picked up the feet and other fragments of

stools and chairs, which were broken by the hasty flight of

the common people.  Thus armed, they made towards Tiberius,

knocking down those whom they found in front of him, and

those were soon wholly dispersed, and many of them slain.

Tiberius tried to save himself by flight.  As he was running,

he was stopped by one who caught hold of him by the gown; but

he threw it off, and fled in his under-garments only.  And

stumbling over those who before had been knocked down, as he

was endeavoring to get up again, Publius Satureius, a

tribune, one of his colleagues, was observed to give him the

first fatal stroke, by hitting him upon the head with the

foot of a stool.  The second blow was claimed, as though it

had been a deed to be proud of, by Lucius Rufus.  And of the

rest there fell above three hundred, killed by clubs and

staves only, none by an iron weapon.

This, we are told, was the first sedition amongst the Romans,

since the abrogation of kingly government, that ended in the

effusion of blood.  All former quarrels which were neither

small nor about trivial matters, were always amicably

composed, by mutual concessions on either side, the senate

yielding for fear of the commons, and the commons out of

respect to the senate.  And it is probable indeed that

Tiberius himself might then have been easily induced, by mere

persuasion, to give way, and certainly, if attacked at all,

must have yielded without any recourse to violence and

bloodshed, as he had not at that time above three thousand

men to support him.  But it is evident, that this conspiracy

was fomented against him, more out of the hatred and malice

which the rich men had to his person, than for the reasons

which they commonly pretended against him.  In testimony of

which, we may adduce the cruelty and unnatural insults which

they used to his dead body.  For they would not suffer his

own brother, though he earnestly begged the favor, to bury

him in the night, but threw him, together with the other

corpses, into the river.  Neither did their animosity stop

here; for they banished some of his friends without legal

process, and slew as many of the others us they could lay

their hands on; amongst whom Diophanes, the orator, was

slain, and one Caius Villius cruelly murdered by being shut

up in a large tun with vipers and serpents.  Blossius of

Cuma, indeed, was carried before the consuls, and examined

touching what had happened, and freely confessed, that he

had done, without scruple, whatever Tiberius bade him.

"What," replied Nasica, "then if Tiberius had bidden you burn

the capitol, would you have burnt it?"  His first answer was,

that Tiberius never would have ordered any such thing; but

being pressed with the same question by several others, he

declared, "If Tiberius had commanded it, it would have been

right for me to do it; for he never would have commanded it,

if it had not been for the people's good."  Blossius at this

time was pardoned, and afterwards went away to Aristonicus in

Asia, and when Aristonicus was overthrown and ruined, killed

himself.

The senate, to soothe the people after these transactions,

did not oppose the division of the public lands, and

permitted them to choose another commissioner in the room of

Tiberius.  So they elected Publius Crassus, who was

Gracchus's near connection, as his daughter Licinia was

married to Caius Gracchus; although Cornelius Nepos says,

that it was not Crassus's daughter whom Caius married, but

Brutus's, who triumphed for his victories over the

Lusitanians; but most writers state it as we have done.  The

people, however, showed evident marks of their anger at

Tiberius's death; and were clearly waiting only for the

opportunity to be revenged, and Nasica was already threatened

with an impeachment.  The senate, therefore, fearing lest

some mischief should befall him, sent him ambassador into

Asia, though there was no occasion for his going thither.

For the people did not conceal their indignation, even in the

open streets, but railed at him, whenever they met him

abroad, calling him a murderer and a tyrant, one who had

polluted the most holy and religious spot in Rome with the

blood of a sacred and inviolable magistrate.  And so Nasica

left Italy, although be was bound, being the chief priest, to

officiate in all principal sacrifices.  Thus wandering

wretchedly and ignominiously from one place to another, he

died in a short time after, not far from Pergamus.  It is no

wonder that the people had such an aversion to Nasica, when

even Scipio Africanus, though so much and so deservedly

beloved by the Romans, was in danger of quite losing the good

opinion which the people had of him, only for repeating, when

the news of Tiberius's death was first brought to Numantia,

the verse out of Homer

Even so perish all who do the same.

And afterwards, being asked by Caius and Fulvius, in a great

assembly, what he thought of Tiberius's death, he gave an

answer adverse to Tiberius's public actions.  Upon which

account, the people thenceforth used to interrupt him when he

spoke, which, until that time, they had never done, and he,

on the other hand, was induced to speak ill of the people.

But of this the particulars are given in the life of Scipio.

CAIUS GRACCHUS

Caius Gracchus, at first, either for fear of his brother's enemies,

or designing to render them more odious to the people, absented

himself from the public assemblies, and lived quietly in his own

house, as if he were not only reduced for the present to live

unambitiously, but was disposed in general to pass his life in

inaction.  And some, indeed, went so far as to say that he

disliked his brother's measures, and had wholly abandoned the

defense of them.  However, he was now but very young, being not so

old as Tiberius by nine years; and he was not yet thirty when he

was slain.

In some little time, however, he quietly let his temper appear,

which was one of an utter antipathy to a lazy retirement and

effeminacy, and not the least likely to be contented with a life

of eating, drinking, and money getting.  He gave great pains to

the study of eloquence, as wings upon which he might aspire to

public business; and it was very apparent that he did not intend

to pass his days in obscurity.  When Vettius, a friend of his, was

on his trial, he defended his cause, and the people were in an

ecstasy, and transported with joy, finding him master of such

eloquence that the other orators seemed like children in

comparison, and jealousies and fears on the other hand began to be

felt by the powerful citizens; and it was generally spoken of

amongst them that they must hinder Caius from being made tribune.

But soon after, it happened that he was elected quaestor, and

obliged to attend Orestes, the consul, into Sardinia.  This, as it

pleased his enemies, so it was not ungrateful to him, being

naturally of a warlike character, and as well trained in the art

of war as in that of pleading.  And, besides, as yet he very much

dreaded meddling with state affairs, and appearing publicly in the

rostra, which, because of the importunity of the people and his

friends, he could no otherwise avoid, than by taking this journey.

He was therefore most thankful for the opportunity of absenting

himself.  Notwithstanding which, it is the prevailing opinion that

Caius was a far more thorough demagogue, and more ambitious than

ever Tiberius had been, of popular applause; yet it is certain

that he was borne rather by a sort of necessity than by any

purpose of his own into public business.  And Cicero, the orator,

relates, that when he declined all such concerns, and would have

lived privately, his brother appeared to him in a dream, and

calling him by his name, said, "why do you tarry, Caius?  There is

no escape; one life and one death is appointed for us both, to

spend the one and to meet the other, in the service of the

people."

Caius was no sooner arrived in Sardinia, but he gave exemplary

proofs of his high merit; he not only excelled all the young men

of his age in his actions against his enemies, in doing justice to

his inferiors, and in showing all obedience and respect to his

superior officer; but likewise in temperance, frugality, and

industry, he surpassed even those who were much older than

himself.  It happened to be a sharp and sickly winter in Sardinia,

insomuch that the general was forced to lay an imposition upon

several towns to supply the soldiers with necessary clothes.  The

cities sent to Rome, petitioning to be excused from that burden;

the senate found their request reasonable, and ordered the general

to find some other way of new clothing the army.  While he was at

a loss what course to take in this affair, the soldiers were

reduced to great distress; but Caius went from one city to

another, and by his mere representations, he prevailed with them,

that of their own accord they clothed the Roman army.  This again

being reported to Rome, and seeming to be only an intimation of

what was to be expected of him as a popular leader hereafter,

raised new jealousies amongst the senators.  And, besides, there

came ambassadors out of Africa from king Micipsa, to acquaint the

senate, that their master, out of respect to Caius Gracchus, had

sent a considerable quantity of corn to the general in Sardinia;

at which the senators were so much offended, that they turned the

ambassadors out of the senate house, and made an order that the

soldiers should be relieved by sending others in their room; but

that Orestes should continue at his post, with whom Caius, also,

as they presumed, being his quaestor, would remain.  But he,

finding how things were carried, immediately in anger took ship

for Rome, where his unexpected appearance obtained him the censure

not only of his enemies, but also of the people; who thought it

strange that a quaestor should leave before his commander.

Nevertheless, when some accusation upon this ground was made

against him to the censors, he desired leave to defend himself,

and did it so effectually, that, when he ended, he was regarded as

one who had been very much injured.  He made it then appear, that

he had served twelve years in the army, whereas others are obliged

to serve only ten; that he had continued quaestor to the general

three years, whereas he might by law have returned at the end of

one year; and alone of all who went on the expedition, he had

carried out a full, and had brought home an empty purse, while

others, after drinking up the wine they had carried out with them,

brought back the wine-jars filled again with gold and silver from

the war.

After this, they brought other accusations and writs against him,

for exciting insurrection amongst the allies, and being engaged

in the conspiracy that was discovered about Fregellae.  But having

cleared himself of every suspicion, and proved his entire

innocence, he now at once came forward to ask for the tribuneship;

in which, though he was universally opposed by all persons of

distinction, yet there came such infinite numbers of people from

all parts of Italy to vote for Caius, that lodgings for them could

not be supplied in the city; and the Field being not large enough

to contain the assembly, there were numbers who climbed upon the

roofs and the tilings of the houses to use their voices in his

favor.  However, the nobility so far forced the people to their

pleasure and disappointed Caius's hope, that he was not returned

the first, as was expected, but the fourth tribune.  But when he

came to the execution of his office, it was seen presently who was

really first tribune, as he was a better orator than any of his

contemporaries, and the passion with which he still lamented his

brother's death, made him the bolder in speaking.  He used on all

occasions to remind the people of what had happened in that

tumult, and laid before them the examples of their ancestors, how

they declared war against the Faliscans, only for giving

scurrilous language to one Genucius, a tribune of the people; and

sentenced Caius Veturius to death, for refusing to give way in the

forum to a tribune; "Whereas," said he, "these men did, in the

presence of you all, murder Tiberius with clubs, and dragged the

slaughtered body through the middle of the city, to be cast into

the river.  Even his friends, as many as could be taken, were put

to death immediately, without any trial, notwithstanding that just

and ancient custom, which has always been observed in our city,

that whenever anyone is accused of a capital crime, and does not

make his personal appearance in court, a trumpeter is sent in the

morning to his lodging, to summon him by sound of trumpet to

appear; and before this ceremony is performed, the judges do not

proceed to the vote; so cautious and reserved were our ancestors

about business of life and death."

Having moved the people's passion with such addresses (and his

voice was of the loudest and strongest), he proposed two laws.

The first was, that whoever was turned out of any public office by

the people, should be thereby rendered incapable of bearing any

office afterwards; the second, that if any magistrate condemn a

Roman to be banished, without a legal trial, the people be

authorized to take cognizance thereof.

One of these laws was manifestly leveled at Marcus Octavius, who,

at the instigation of Tiberius, had been deprived of his

tribuneship.  The other touched Popilius, who, in his praetorship,

had banished all Tiberius's friends; whereupon Popilius, being

unwilling to stand the hazard of a trial, fled out of Italy.  As

for the former law, it was withdrawn by Caius himself, who said he

yielded in the case of Octavius, at the request of his mother

Cornelia.  This was very acceptable and pleasing to the people,

who had a great veneration for Cornelia, not more for the sake of

her father than for that of her children; and they afterwards

erected a statue of brass in honor of her, with this inscription,

Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi.  There are several

expressions recorded, in which he used her name perhaps with too

much rhetoric, and too little self-respect, in his attacks upon

his adversaries.  "How," said he, "dare you presume to reflect

upon Cornelia, the mother of Tiberius?"  And because the person

who made the redactions had been suspected of effeminate courses,

"With what face," said he, "can you compare Cornelia with

yourself?  Have you brought forth children as she has done?  And

yet all Rome knows, that she has refrained from the conversation

of men longer than you yourself have done."  Such was the

bitterness he used in his language; and numerous similar

expressions might be adduced from his written remains.

Of the laws which he now proposed, with the object of gratifying

the people and abridging the power of the senate, the first was

concerning the public lands, which were to be divided amongst the

poor citizens; another was concerning the common soldiers, that

they should be clothed at the public charge, without any

diminution of their pay, and that none should be obliged to serve

in the army who was not full seventeen years old; another gave the

same right to all the Italians in general, of voting at elections,

as was enjoyed by the citizens of Rome; a fourth related to the

price of corn, which was to be sold at a lower rate than formerly

to the poor; and a fifth regulated the courts of justice, greatly

reducing the power of the senators.  For hitherto, in all causes

senators only sat as judges, and were therefore much dreaded by

the Roman knights and the people.  But Caius joined three hundred

ordinary citizens of equestrian rank with the senators, who were

three hundred likewise in number, and ordained that the judicial

authority should be equally invested in the six hundred.  While he

was arguing for the ratification of this law, his behavior was

observed to show in many respects unusual earnestness, and whereas

other popular leaders had always hitherto, when speaking, turned

their faces towards the senate house, and the place called the

comitium, he, on the contrary, was the first man that in his

harangue to the people turned himself the other way, towards them,

and continued after that time to do so.  An insignificant movement

and change of posture, yet it marked no small revolution in state

affairs, the conversion, in a manner, of the whole government from

an aristocracy to a democracy; his action intimating that public

speakers should address themselves to the people, not the senate.

When the commonalty ratified this law, and gave him power to

select those of the knights whom he approved of, to be judges, he

was invested with a sort of kingly power, and the senate itself

submitted to receive his advice in matters of difficulty; nor did

he advise anything that might derogate from the honor of that

body.  As, for example, his resolution about the corn which Fabius

the propraetor sent from Spain, was very just and honorable; for

he persuaded the senate to sell the corn, and return the money to

the same provinces which had furnished them with it; and also that

Fabius should be censured for rendering the Roman government

odious and insupportable.  This got him extraordinary respect and

favor among the provinces.  Besides all this, he proposed measures

for the colonization of several cities, for making roads, and for

building public granaries; of all which works he himself undertook

the management and superintendence, and was never wanting to give

necessary orders for the dispatch of all these different and great

undertakings; and that with such wonderful expedition and

diligence, as if he had been but engaged upon one of them;

insomuch that all persons, even those who hated or feared him,

stood amazed to see what a capacity he had for effecting and

completing all he undertook.  As for the people themselves, they

were transported at the very sight, when they saw him surrounded

with a crowd of contractors, artificers, public deputies, military

officers, soldiers, and scholars.  All these he treated with an

easy familiarity, yet without abandoning his dignity in his

gentleness; and so accommodated his nature to the wants and

occasions of everyone who addressed him, that those were looked

upon as no better than envious detractors, who had represented him

as a terrible, assuming, and violent character.  He was even a

greater master of the popular leader's art in his common talk and

his actions, than he was in his public addresses.

His most especial exertions were given to constructing the roads,

which he was careful to make beautiful and pleasant, as well as

convenient.  They were drawn by his directions through the fields,

exactly in a straight line, partly paved with hewn stone, and

partly laid with solid masses of gravel.  When he met with any

valleys or deep watercourses crossing the line, he either caused

them to be filled up with rubbish, or bridges to be built over

them, so well leveled, that all being of an equal height on both

sides, the work presented one uniform and beautiful prospect.

Besides this, he caused the roads to be all divided into miles

(each mile containing little less than eight furlongs, and erected

pillars of stone to signify the distance from one place to

another.  He likewise placed other stones at small distances from

one another, on both sides of the way, by the help of which

travelers might get easily on horseback without wanting a groom.

For these reasons, the people highly extolled him, and were ready

upon all occasions to express their affection towards him.  One

day, in an oration to them, he declared that he had only one favor

to request, which if they granted, he should think the greatest

obligation in the world; yet if it were denied, he would never

blame them for the refusal.  This expression made the world

believe that his ambition was to be consul; and it was generally

expected that he wished to be both consul and tribune at the same

time.  When the day for election of consuls was at hand, and all

in great expectation, he appeared in the Field with Caius Fannius,

canvassing together with his friends for his election.  This was

of great effect in Fannius's favor.  He was chosen consul, and

Caius elected tribune the second time, without his own seeking or

petitioning for it, but at the voluntary motion of the people.

But when he understood that the senators were his declared

enemies, and that Fannius himself was none of the most zealous of

friends, he began again to rouse the people with other new laws.

He proposed that a colony of Roman citizens might be sent to

re-people Tarentum and Capua, and that the Latins should enjoy the

same privileges with the citizens of Rome.  But the senate,

apprehending that he would at last grow too powerful and

dangerous, took a new and unusual course to alienate the people's

affections from him, by playing the demagogue in opposition to

him, and offering favors contrary to all good policy.  Livius

Drusus was fellow-tribune with Caius, a person of as good a family

and as well educated as any amongst the Romans, and noways

inferior to those who for their eloquence and riches were the most

honored and most powerful men of that time.  To him, therefore,

the chief senators made their application, exhorting him to attack

Caius, and join in their confederacy against him; which they

designed to carry on, not by using any force, or opposing the

common people, but by gratifying and obliging them with such

unreasonable things as otherwise they would have felt it honorable

for them to incur the greatest unpopularity in resisting.

Livius offered to serve the senate with his authority in this

business; and proceeded accordingly to bring forward such laws as

were in reality neither honorable nor advantageous for the public;

his whole design being to outdo Caius in pleasing and cajoling the

populace (as if it had been in some comedy), with obsequious

flattery and every kind of gratifications; the senate thus letting

it be seen plainly, that they were not angry with Caius's public

measures, but only desirous to ruin him utterly, or at least to

lessen his reputation.  For when Caius proposed the settlement of

only two colonies, and mentioned the better class of citizens for

that purpose, they accused him of abusing the people; and yet, on

the contrary, were pleased with Drusus, when he proposed the

sending out of twelve colonies, each to consist of three thousand

persons, and those, too, the most needy that he could find.  When

Caius divided the public land amongst the poor citizens, and

charged them with a small rent, annually, to be paid into the

exchequer, they were angry at him, as one who sought to gratify

the people only for his own interest; yet afterwards they

commended Livius, though he exempted them from paying even that

little acknowledgment.  They were displeased with Caius, for

offering the Latins an equal right with the Romans of voting at

the election of magistrates; but when Livius proposed that it

might not be lawful for a Roman captain to scourge a Latin

soldier, they promoted the passing of that law.  And Livius, in

all his speeches to the people, always told them, that he proposed

no laws but such as were agreeable to the senate, who had a

particular regard to the people's advantage.  And this truly was

the only point in all his proceedings which was of any real

service, as it created more kindly feelings towards the senate in

the people; and whereas they formerly suspected and hated the

principal senators, Livius appeased and mitigated this

perverseness and animosity, by his profession that he had done

nothing in favor and for the benefit of the commons, without their

advice and approbation.

But the greatest credit which Drusus got for kindness and justice

towards the people was, that he never seemed to propose any law

for his own sake, or his own advantage; he committed the charge of

seeing the colonies rightly settled to other commissioners;

neither did he ever concern himself with the distribution of the

moneys; whereas Caius always took the principal part in any

important transactions of this kind.  Rubrius, another tribune of

the people, had proposed to have Carthage again inhabited, which

had been demolished by Scipio, and it fell to Caius's lot to see

this performed, and for that purpose he sailed to Africa.  Drusus

took this opportunity of his absence to insinuate himself still

more into the peoples' affections, which he did chiefly by

accusing Fulvius, who was a particular friend to Caius, and was

appointed a commissioner with him for the division of the lands.

Fulvius was a man of a turbulent spirit, and notoriously hated by

the senate; and besides, he was suspected by others to have

fomented the differences between the citizens and their

confederates, and underhand to be inciting the Italians to rebel;

though there was little other evidence of the truth of these

accusations, than his being an unsettled character, and of a

well-known seditious temper.  This was one principal cause of

Caius's ruin; for part of the envy which fell upon Fulvius, was

extended to him.  And when Scipio Africanus died suddenly, and no

cause of such an unexpected death could be assigned, only some

marks of blows upon his body seemed to intimate that he had

suffered violence, as is related in the history of his life, the

greatest part of the odium attached to Fulvius, because he was his

enemy, and that very day had reflected upon Scipio in a public

address to the people.  Nor was Caius himself clear from

suspicion.  However, this great outrage, committed too upon the

person of the greatest and most considerable man in Rome, was

never either punished or inquired into thoroughly, for the

populace opposed and hindered any judicial investigation, for fear

that Caius should be implicated in the charge if proceedings were

carried on.  This, however, had happened some time before.

But in Africa, where at present Caius was engaged in the

repeopling of Carthage, which he named Junonia, many ominous

appearances, which presaged mischief, are reported to have been

sent from the gods.  For a sudden gust of wind falling upon the

first standard, and the standard-bearer holding it fast, the staff

broke; another sudden storm blew away the sacrifices, which were

laid upon the altars, and carried them beyond the bounds laid out

for the city; and the wolves came and carried away the very marks

that were set up to show the boundary.  Caius, notwithstanding all

this, ordered and dispatched the whole business in the space of

seventy days, and then returned to Rome, understanding how Fulvius

was prosecuted by Drusus, and that the present juncture of affairs

would not suffer him to be absent.  For Lucius Opimius, one who

sided with the nobility, and was of no small authority in the

senate, who had formerly sued to be consul, but was repulsed by

Caius's interest, at the time when Fannius was elected, was in a

fair way now of being chosen consul, having a numerous company of

supporters.  And it was generally believed, if he did obtain it,

that he would wholly ruin Caius, whose power was already in a

declining condition; and the people were not so apt to admire his

actions as formerly, because there were so many others who every

day contrived new ways to please them, with which the senate

readily complied.

After his return to Rome, he quitted his house on the Palatine

Mount, and went to live near the market-place, endeavoring to make

himself more popular in those parts, where most of the humbler and

poorer citizens lived.  He then brought forward the remainder of

his proposed laws, as intending to have them ratified by the

popular vote; to support which a vast number of people collected

from all quarters.  But the senate persuaded Fannius, the consul,

to command all persons who were not born Romans, to depart the

city.  A new and unusual proclamation was thereupon made,

prohibiting any of the Allies or Confederates to appear at Rome

during that time.  Caius, on the contrary, published an edict,

accusing the consul for what he had done, and setting forth to the

Confederates, that if they would continue upon the place, they

might be assured of his assistance and protection.  However, he

was not so good as his word; for though he saw one of his own

familiar friends and companions dragged to prison by Fannius's

officers, he notwithstanding passed by, without assisting him;

either because he was afraid to stand the test of his power, which

was already decreased, or because, as he himself reported, he was

unwilling to give his enemies an opportunity, which they very much

desired, of coming to actual violence and fighting.  About that

time there happened likewise a difference between him and his

fellow-officers upon this occasion.  A show of gladiators was to

be exhibited before the people in the marketplace, and most of the

magistrates erected scaffolds round about, with an intention of

letting them for advantage.  Caius commanded them to take down

their scaffolds, that the poor people might see the sport without

paying anything.  But nobody obeying these orders of his, he

gathered together a body of laborers, who worked for him, and

overthrew all the scaffolds, the very night before the contest was

to take place.  So that by the next morning the market-place was

cleared, and the common people had an opportunity of seeing the

pastime.  In this, the populace thought he had acted the part of a

man; but he much disobliged the tribunes, his colleagues, who

regarded it as a piece of violent and presumptuous interference.

This was thought to be the chief reason that he failed of being a

third time elected tribune; not but that he had the most votes,

but because his colleagues out of revenge caused false returns to

be made.  But as to this matter there was a controversy.  Certain

it is, he very much resented this repulse, and behaved with

unusual arrogance towards some of his adversaries who were joyful

at his defeat, telling them, that all this was but a false,

sardonic mirth, as they little knew how much his actions threw

them into obscurity.

As soon as Opimius also was chosen consul, they presently canceled

several of Caius's laws, and especially called in question his

proceedings at Carthage, omitting nothing that was likely to

irritate him, that from some effect of his passion they might find

out a colorable pretense to put him to death.  Caius at first bore

these things very patiently; but afterwards, at the instigation of

his friends, especially Fulvius, he resolved to put himself at the

head of a body of supporters, to oppose the consul by force.  They

say also that on this occasion his mother, Cornelia, joined in the

sedition, and assisted him by sending privately several strangers

into Rome, under pretense as if they came to be hired there for

harvestmen; for that intimations of this are given in her letters

to him.  However, it is confidently affirmed by others, that

Cornelia did not in the least approve of these actions.

When the day came in which Opimius designed to abrogate the laws

of Caius, both parties met very early at the capitol; and the

consul having performed all the rites usual in their sacrifices,

one Quintus Antyllius, an attendant on the consul, carrying out

the entrails of the victim, spoke to Fulvius, and his friends who

stood about him, "Ye factious citizens, make way for honest men."

Some report, that besides this provoking language, he extended his

naked arm towards them, as a piece of scorn and contempt.  Upon

this he was presently killed with the strong stiles which are

commonly used in writing, though some say that on this occasion

they had been manufactured for this purpose only.  This murder

caused a sudden consternation in the whole assembly, and the heads

of each faction had their different sentiments about it.  As for

Caius he was much grieved, and severely reprimanded his own party,

because they had given their adversaries a reasonable pretense to

proceed against them, which they had so long hoped for.  Opimius,

immediately seizing the occasion thus offered, was in great

delight, and urged the people to revenge; but there happening a

great shower of rain on a sudden, it put an end to the business of

that day.

Early the next morning, the consul summoned the senate, and whilst

he advised with the senators in the senate-house, the corpse of

Antyllius was laid upon a bier, and brought through the

market-place, being there exposed to open view, just before the

senate-house, with a great deal of crying and lamentation.

Opimius was not at all ignorant that this was designed to be done;

however, he seemed to be surprised, and wondered what the meaning

of it should be; the senators, therefore, presently went out to

know the occasion of it and, standing about the corpse, uttered

exclamations against the inhuman and barbarous act.  The people

meantime could not but feel resentment and hatred for the

senators, remembering how they themselves had not only

assassinated Tiberius Gracchus, as he was executing his office in

the very capitol, but had also thrown his mangled body into the

river; yet now they could honor with their presence and their

public lamentations in the forum the corpse of an ordinary hired

attendant, (who, though he might perhaps die wrongfully, was,

however, in a great measure the occasion of it himself,) by these

means hoping to undermine him who was the only remaining defender

and safeguard of the people.

The senators, after some time, withdrew, and presently ordered

that Opimius, the consul, should be invested with extraordinary

power to protect the commonwealth and suppress all tyrants.  This

being decreed, he presently commanded the senators to arm

themselves, and the Roman knights to be in readiness very early

the next morning, and every one of them to be attended with two

servants well armed.  Fulvius, on the other side, made his

preparations and collected the populace.  Caius at that time

returning from the market-place, made a stop just before his

father's statue, and fixing his eyes for some time upon it,

remained in a deep contemplation; at length he sighed, shed tears,

and departed.  This made no small impression upon those who saw

it, and they began to upbraid themselves, that they should desert

and betray so worthy a man as Caius.  They therefore went

directly to his house, remaining there as a guard about it all

night, though in a different manner from those who were a guard to

Fulvius; for they passed away the night with shouting and

drinking, and Fulvius himself, being the first to get drunk,

spoke and acted many things very unbecoming a man of his age and

character.  On the other side, the party which guarded Caius, were

quiet and diligent, relieving one another by turns, and

forecasting, as in a public calamity, what the issue of things

might be.  As soon as daylight appeared, they roused Fulvius, who

had not yet slept off the effects of his drinking; and having

armed themselves with the weapons hung up in his house, that were

formerly taken from the Gauls, whom he conquered in the time of

his consulship, they presently, with threats and loud

acclamations, made their way towards the Aventine Mount.

Caius could not be persuaded to arm himself, but put on his gown,

as if he had been going to the assembly of the people, only with

this difference, that under it he had then a short dagger by his

side.  As he was going out, his wife came running to him at the

gate, holding him with one hand, and with her other a young child

of his.  She thus bespoke him: "Alas, Caius, I do not now part

with you to let you address the people, either as a tribune or a

lawgiver, nor as if you were going to some honorable war, when

though you might perhaps have encountered that fate which all must

sometime or other submit to, yet you had left me this mitigation

of my sorrow, that my mourning was respected and honored.  You go

now to expose your person to the murderers of Tiberius, unarmed,

indeed, and rightly so, choosing rather to suffer the worst of

injuries, than do the least yourself.  But even your very death at

this time will not be serviceable to the public good.  Faction

prevails; power and arms are now the only measures of justice.

Had your brother fallen before Numantia, the enemy would have

given back what then had remained of Tiberius; but such is my hard

fate, that I probably must be an humble suppliant to the floods or

the waves, that they would somewhere restore to me your relics;

for since Tiberius was not spared, what trust can we place either

on the laws, or in the gods?"  Licinia, thus bewailing, Caius, by

degrees getting loose from her embraces, silently withdrew

himself, being accompanied by his friends; she, endeavoring to

catch him by the gown, fell prostrate upon the earth, lying there

for some time speechless.  Her servants took her up for dead, and

conveyed her to her brother Crassus.

Fulvius, when the people were gathered together in a full body, by

the advice of Caius, sent his youngest son into the market-place,

with a herald's rod in his hand.  He, being a very handsome youth,

and modestly addressing himself, with tears in his eyes and a

becoming bashfulness, offered proposals of agreement to the consul

and the whole senate.  The greatest part of the assembly were

inclinable to accept of the proposals; but Opimius said, that it

did not become them to send messengers and capitulate with the

senate, but to surrender at discretion to the laws, like loyal

citizens, and endeavor to merit their pardon by submission.  He

commanded the youth not to return, unless they would comply with

these conditions.  Caius, as it is reported, was very forward to

go and clear himself before the senate; but none of his friends

consenting to it, Fulvius sent his son a second time to intercede

for them, as before.  But Opimius, who was resolved that a

battle should ensue, caused the youth to be apprehended, and

committed into custody; and then, with a company of his

foot-soldiers and some Cretan archers, set upon the party under

Fulvius.  These archers did such execution, and inflicted so many

wounds, that a rout and flight quickly ensued.  Fulvius fled into

an obscure bathing-house; but shortly after being discovered, he

and his eldest son were slain together.  Caius was not observed to

use any violence against anyone; but, extremely disliking all

these outrages, retired to Diana's temple.  There he attempted to

kill himself, but was hindered by his faithful friends, Pomponius

and Licinius, they took his sword away from him, and were very

urgent that he would endeavor to make his escape.  It is reported,

that falling upon his knee and lifting up his hands, he prayed the

goddess that the Roman people, as a punishment for their

ingratitude and treachery, might always remain in slavery.  For as

soon as a proclamation was made of a pardon, the greater part

openly deserted him.

Caius, therefore, endeavored now to make his escape, but was

pursued so close by his enemies, as far as the wooden bridge, that

from thence he narrowly escaped.  There his two trusty friends

begged of him to preserve his own person by flight, whilst they in

the meantime would keep their post, and maintain the passage;

neither could their enemies, until they were both slain, pass the

bridge.  Caius had no other companion in his flight but one

Philocrates, a servant of his.  As he ran along, everybody

encouraged him, and wished him success, as standers-by may do to

those who are engaged in a race, but nobody either lent him any

assistance, or would furnish him with a horse, though he asked for

one; for his enemies had gained ground, and got very near him.

However, he had still time enough to hide himself in a little

grove, consecrated to the Furies.  In that place, his servant

Philocrates having first slain him, presently afterwards killed

himself also, and fell dead upon his master.  Though some affirm

it for a truth, that they were both taken alive by their enemies,

and that Philocrates embraced his master so close, that they could

not wound Caius until his servant was slain.

They say that when Caius's head was cut off, and carried away by

one of his murderers, Septimuleius, Opimius's friend met him, and

forced it from him; because, before the battle began, they had

made proclamation, that whoever should bring the head either of

Caius or Fulvius, should, as a reward, receive its weight in gold.

Septimuleius, therefore, having fixed Caius's head upon the top of

his spear, came and presented it to Opimius.  They presently

brought the scales, and it was found to weigh above seventeen

pounds.  But in this affair, Septimuleius gave as great signs of

his knavery, as he had done before of his cruelty; for having

taken out the brains, he had filled the skull with lead.  There

were others who brought the head of Fulvius too, but, being mean,

inconsiderable persons, were turned away without the promised

reward.  The bodies of these two persons, as well as of the rest

who were slain, to the number of three thousand men, were all

thrown into the river; their goods were confiscated, and their

widows forbidden to put themselves into mourning.  They dealt even

more severely with Licinia, Caius's wife, and deprived her even of

her jointure; and as an addition still to all their inhumanity,

they barbarously murdered Fulvius's youngest son; his only crime

being, not that he took up arms against them, or that he was

present in the battle, but merely that he had come with articles

of agreement; for this he was first imprisoned, then slain.

But that which angered the common people beyond all these things

was, because at this time, in memory of his success, Opimius built

the temple of Concord, as if he gloried and triumphed in the

slaughter of so many citizens.  Somebody in the night time, under

the inscription of the temple, added this verse:—

Folly and Discord Concord's temple built.

Yet this Opimius, the first who, being consul, presumed to usurp

the power of a dictator, condemning, without any trial, with three

thousand other citizens, Caius Gracchus and Fulvius Flaccus, one

of whom had triumphed, and been consul, the other far excelled all

his contemporaries in virtue and honor, afterwards was found

incapable of keeping his hands from thieving; and when he was sent

ambassador to Jugurtha, king of Numidia, he was there corrupted by

presents, and at his return being shamefully convicted of it, lost

all his honors, and grew old amidst the hatred and the insults of

the people, who, though humbled, and affrighted at the time, did

not fail before long to let everybody see what respect and

veneration they had for the memory of the Gracchi.  They ordered

their statues to be made and set up in public view; they

consecrated the places where they were slain, and thither brought

the first-fruits of everything, according to the season of the

year, to make their offerings.  Many came likewise thither to

their devotions, and daily worshipped there, as at the temples of

the gods.

It is reported, that as Cornelia, their mother, bore the loss of

her two sons with a noble and undaunted spirit, so, in reference

to the holy places in which they were slain, she said, their dead

bodies were well worthy of such sepulchres.  She removed

afterwards, and dwelt near the place called Misenum, not at all

altering her former way of living.  She had many friends, and

hospitably received many strangers at her house; many Greeks and

learned men were continually about her; nor was there any foreign

prince but received gifts from her and presented her again.  Those

who were conversant with her, were much interested, when she

pleased to entertain them with her recollections of her father

Scipio Africanus, and of his habits and way of living.  But it was

most admirable to hear her make mention of her sons, without any

tears or sign of grief, and give the full account of all their

deeds and misfortunes, as if she had been relating the history of

some ancient heroes.  This made some imagine, that age, or the

greatness of her afflictions, had made her senseless and devoid of

natural feelings.  But they who so thought, were themselves more

truly insensible, not to see how much a noble nature and education

avail to conquer any affliction; and though fortune may often be

more successful, and may defeat the efforts of virtue to avert

misfortunes, it cannot, when we incur them, prevent our bearing

them reasonably.

COMPARISON OF TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS WITH AGIS AND CLEOMENES

Having given an account severally of these persons, it remains

only that we should take a view of them in comparison with one

another.

As for the Gracchi, the greatest detractors and their worst

enemies could not but allow, that they had a genius to virtue

beyond all other Romans, which was improved also by a generous

education.  Agis and Cleomenes may be supposed to have had

stronger natural gifts, since, though they wanted all the

advantages of good education, and were bred up in those very

customs, manners, and habits of living, which had for a long time

corrupted others, yet they were public examples of temperance and

frugality.  Besides, the Gracchi, happening to live when Rome had

her greatest repute for honor and virtuous actions, might justly

have been ashamed, if they had not also left to the next

generation the noble inheritance of the virtues of their

ancestors.  Whereas the other two had parents of different morals;

and though they found their country in a sinking condition, and

debauched, yet that did not quench their forward zeal to what was

just and honorable.

The integrity of the two Romans, and their superiority to money,

was chiefly remarkable in this; that in office and the

administration of public affairs, they kept themselves from the

imputation of unjust gain; whereas Agis might justly be offended,

if he had only that mean commendation given him, that he took

nothing wrongfully from any man, seeing he distributed his own

fortunes, which, in ready money only, amounted to the value of

six hundred talents, amongst his fellow-citizens.  Extortion

would have appeared a crime of a strange nature to him, who

esteemed it a piece of covetousness to possess, though never so

justly gotten, greater riches than his neighbors.

Their political actions, also, and the state revolutions they

attempted, were very different in magnitude.  The chief things in

general that the two Romans commonly aimed at, were the settlement

of cities and mending of highways; and, in particular, the boldest

design which Tiberius is famed for, was the recovery of the public

lands; and Caius gained his greatest reputation by the addition,

for the exercise of judicial powers, of three hundred of the order

of knights to the same number of senators.  Whereas the alteration

which Agis and Cleomenes made, was in a quite different kind.

They did not set about removing partial evils and curing petty

incidents of disease, which would have been (as Plato says), like

cutting off one of the Hydra's heads, the very means to increase

the number; but they instituted a thorough reformation, such as

would free the country at once from all its grievances, or rather,

to speak more truly, they reversed that former change which had

been the cause of all their calamities, and so restored their city

to its ancient state.

However, this must be confessed in the behalf of the Gracchi, that

their undertakings were always opposed by men of the greatest

influence.  On the other side, those things which were first

attempted by Agis, and afterwards consummated by Cleomenes, were

supported by the great and glorious precedent of those ancient

laws concerning frugality and leveling which they had themselves

received upon the authority of Lycurgus, and he had instituted on

that of Apollo.  It is also further observable, that from the

actions of the Gracchi, Rome received no additions to her former

greatness; whereas, under the conduct of Cleomenes, Greece

presently saw Sparta exert her sovereign power over all

Peloponnesus, and contest the supreme command with the most

powerful princes of the time; success in which would have freed

Greece from Illyrian and Gaulish violence, and placed her once

again under the orderly rule of the sons of Hercules.

From the circumstances of their deaths, also, we may infer some

difference in the quality of their courage.  The Gracchi, fighting

with their fellow-citizens, were both slain, as they endeavored to

make their escape; Agis willingly submitted to his fate, rather

than any citizen should be in danger of his life.  Cleomenes,

being shamefully and unjustly treated, made an effort toward

revenge, but failing of that, generously fell by his own hand.

On the other side it must be said, that Agis never did a great

action worthy a commander, being prevented by an untimely death.

And as for those heroic actions of Cleomenes, we may justly

compare with them that of Tiberius, when he was the first who

attempted to scale the walls of Carthage, which was no mean

exploit.  We may add the peace which he concluded with the

Numantines, by which he saved the lives of twenty thousand Romans,

who otherwise had certainly been cut off.  And Caius, not only at

home, but in war in Sardinia, displayed distinguished courage.  So

that their early actions were no small argument, that afterwards

they might have rivaled the best of the Roman commanders, if they

had not died so young.

In civil life, Agis showed a lack of determination; he let himself

be baffled by the craft of Agesilaus; disappointed the

expectations of the citizens as to the division of the lands, and

generally left all the designs which he had deliberately formed

and publicly announced, unperformed and unfulfilled, through a

young man's want of resolution.  Cleomenes, on the other hand,

proceeded to effect the revolution with only too much boldness and

violence, and unjustly slew the Ephors, whom he might, by

superiority in arms, have gained over to his party, or else might

easily have banished, as he did several others of the city.  For

to use the knife, unless in the extremest necessity, is neither

good surgery nor wise policy, but in both cases mere

unskillfulness; and in the latter, unjust as well as unfeeling.

Of the Gracchi, neither the one nor the other was the first to

shed the blood of his fellow-citizens; and Caius is reported to

have avoided all manner of resistance, even when his life was

aimed at, showing himself always valiant against a foreign enemy,

but wholly inactive in a sedition.  This was the reason that he

went from his own house unarmed, and withdrew when the battle

began, and in all respects showed himself anxious rather not to do

any harm to others, than not to suffer any himself.  Even the very

flight of the Gracchi must not be looked upon as an argument of

their mean spirit, but an honorable retreat from endangering of

others.  For if they had stayed, they must either have yielded to

those who assailed them, or else have fought them in their own

defense.

The greatest crime that can be laid to Tiberius's charge, was the

deposing of his fellow tribune, and seeking afterwards a second

tribuneship for himself.  As for the death of Antyllius, it is

falsely and unjustly attributed to Caius, for he was slain unknown

to him, and much to his grief.  On the contrary, Cleomenes (not to

mention the murder of the Ephors) set all the slaves at liberty,

and governed by himself alone in reality, having a partner only

for show; having made choice of his brother Euclidas, who was one

of the same family.  He prevailed upon Archidamus, who was the

right heir to the kingdom of the other line, to venture to return

home from Messene; but after his being slain, by not doing

anything to revenge his death, confirmed the suspicion that he was

privy to it himself.  Lycurgus, whose example he professed to

imitate, after he had voluntarily settled his kingdom upon

Charillus, his brother's son, fearing lest, if the youth should

chance to die by accident, he might be suspected for it, traveled

a long time, and would not return again to Sparta until Charillus

had a son, and an heir to his kingdom.  But we have indeed no

other Grecian who is worthy to be compared with Lycurgus, and it

is clear enough that in the public measures of Cleomenes various

acts of considerable audacity and lawlessness may be found.

Those, therefore, who incline to blame their characters, may

observe, that the two Grecians were disturbers even from their

youth, lovers of contest, and aspirants to despotic power; that

Tiberius and Caius by nature had an excessive desire after glory

and honors.  Beyond this, their enemies could find nothing to

bring against them; but as soon as the contention began with their

adversaries, their heat and passions would so far prevail beyond

their natural temper, that by them, as by ill winds, they were

driven afterwards to all their rash undertakings.  What could be

more just and honorable than their first design, had not the power

and the faction of the rich, by endeavoring to abrogate that law,

engaged them both in those fatal quarrels, the one, for his own

preservation, the other, to revenge his brother's death, who was

murdered without any law or justice?

From the account, therefore, which has been given, you yourself

may perceive the difference; which if it were to be pronounced of

every one singly, I should affirm Tiberius to have excelled them

all in virtue; that young Agis had been guilty of the fewest

misdeeds; and that in action and boldness Caius came far short of

Cleomenes.

DEMOSTHENES

Whoever it was, Sosius, that wrote the poem in honor of

Alcibiades, upon his winning the chariot race at the Olympian

Games, whether it were Euripides, as is most commonly thought,

or some other person, he tells us, that to a man's being happy

it is in the first place requisite he should be born in "some

famous city." But for him that would attain to true happiness,

which for the most part is placed in the qualities and

disposition of the mind, it is, in my opinion, of no other

disadvantage to be of a mean, obscure country, than to be born

of a small or plain-looking woman.  For it were ridiculous to

think that Iulis, a little part of Ceos, which itself is no

great island, and Aegina, which an Athenian once said ought to

be removed, like a small eye-sore, from the port of Piraeus,

should breed good actors and poets, and yet should never be

able to produce a just, temperate, wise, and high-minded man.

Other arts, whose end it is to acquire riches or honor, are

likely enough to wither and decay in poor and undistinguished

towns; but virtue, like a strong and durable plant, may take

root and thrive in any place where it can lay hold of an

ingenuous nature, and a mind that is industrious.  I, for my

part, shall desire that for any deficiency of mine in right

judgment or action, I myself may be, as in fairness, held

accountable, and shall not attribute it to the obscurity of my

birthplace.

But if any man undertake to write a history, that has to be

collected from materials gathered by observation and the reading

of works not easy to be got in all places, nor written always in

his own language, but many of them foreign and dispersed in

other hands, for him, undoubtedly, it is in the first place and

above all things most necessary, to reside in some city of good

note, addicted to liberal arts, and populous; where he may have

plenty of all sorts of books, and upon inquiry may hear and

inform himself of such particulars as, having escaped the pens

of writers, are more faithfully preserved in the memories of

men, lest his work be deficient in many things, even those which

it can least dispense with.

But for me, I live in a little town, where I am willing to

continue, lest it should grow less; and having had no leisure,

while I was in Rome and other parts of Italy, to exercise myself

in the Roman language, on account of public business and of

those who came to be instructed by me in philosophy, it was very

late, and in the decline of my age, before I applied myself to

the reading of Latin authors.  Upon which that which happened to

me, may seem strange, though it be true; for it was not so much

by the knowledge of words, that I came to the understanding of

things, as by my experience of things I was enabled to follow

the meaning of words.  But to appreciate the graceful and ready

pronunciation of the Roman tongue, to understand the various

figures and connection of words, and such other ornaments, in

which the beauty of speaking consists, is, I doubt not, an

admirable and delightful accomplishment; but it requires a

degree of practice and study, which is not easy, and will better

suit those who have more leisure, and time enough yet before

them for the occupation.

And so in this fifth book of my Parallel Lives, in giving an

account of Demosthenes and Cicero, my comparison of their

natural dispositions and their characters will be formed upon

their actions and their lives as statesmen, and I shall not

pretend to criticize their orations one against the other, to

show which of the two was the more charming or the more powerful

speaker.  For there, as Ion says,

We are but like a fish upon dry land;

a proverb which Caecilius perhaps forgot, when he employed his

always adventurous talents in so ambitious an attempt as a

comparison of Demosthenes and Cicero: and, possibly, if it were

a thing obvious and easy for every man to know himself, the

precept had not passed for an oracle.

The divine power seems originally to have designed Demosthenes

and Cicero upon the same plan, giving them many similarities in

their natural characters, as their passion for distinction and

their love of liberty in civil life, and their want of courage

in dangers and war, and at the same time also to have added many

accidental resemblances.  I think there can hardly be found two

other orators, who, from small and obscure beginnings, became so

great and mighty; who both contested with kings and tyrants;

both lost their daughters, were driven out of their country, and

returned with honor; who, flying from thence again, were both

seized upon by their enemies, and at last ended their lives with

the liberty of their countrymen.  So that if we were to suppose

there had been a trial of skill between nature and fortune, as

there is sometimes between artists, it would be hard to judge,

whether that succeeded best in making them alike in their

dispositions and manners, or this, in the coincidences of their

lives.  We will speak of the eldest first.

Demosthenes, the father of Demosthenes, was a citizen of good

rank and quality, as Theopompus informs us, surnamed the

Sword-maker, because he had a large workhouse, and kept servants

skillful in that art at work.  But of that which Aeschines, the

orator, said of his mother, that she was descended of one Gylon,

who fled his country upon an accusation of treason, and of a

barbarian woman, I can affirm nothing, whether he spoke true, or

slandered and maligned her.  This is certain, that Demosthenes,

being as yet but seven years old, was left by his father in

affluent circumstances, the whole value of his estate being

little short of fifteen talents, and that he was wronged by his

guardians, part of his fortune being embezzled by them, and the

rest neglected; insomuch that even his teachers were defrauded

of their salaries.  This was the reason that he did not obtain

the liberal education that he should have had; besides that on

account of weakness and delicate health, his mother would not

let him exert himself, and his teachers forbore to urge him.  He

was meager and sickly from the first, and hence had his nickname

of Batalus, given him, it is said, by the boys, in derision of

his appearance; Batalus being, as some tell us, a certain

enervated flute-player, in ridicule of whom Antiphanes wrote a

play.  Others speak of Batalus as a writer of wanton verses and

drinking songs.  And it would seem that some part of the body,

not decent to be named, was at that time called batalus by the

Athenians.  But the name of Argas, which also they say was a

nickname of Demosthenes, was given him for his behavior, as

being savage and spiteful, argas being one of the poetical words

for a snake; or for his disagreeable way of speaking, Argas

being the name of a poet, who composed very harshly and

disagreeably.  So much, as Plato says, for such matters.

The first occasion of his eager inclination to oratory they say,

was this.  Callistratus, the orator, being to plead in open

court for Oropus, the expectation of the issue of that cause was

very great, as well for the ability of the orator, who was then

at the height of his reputation, as also for the fame of the

action itself.  Therefore, Demosthenes, having heard the tutors

and schoolmasters agreeing among themselves to be present at

this trial, with much importunity persuades his tutor to take

him along with him to the hearing; who, having some acquaintance

with the doorkeepers, procured a place where the boy might sit

unseen, and hear what was said.  Callistratus having got the

day, and being much admired, the boy began to look upon his

glory with a kind of emulation, observing how he was courted on

all hands, and attended on his way by the multitude; but his

wonder was more than all excited by the power of his eloquence,

which seemed able to subdue and win over anything.  From this

time, therefore, bidding farewell to other sorts of learning and

study, he now began to exercise himself, and to take pains in

declaiming, as one that meant to be himself also an orator.  He

made use of Isaeus as his guide to the art of speaking, though

Isocrates at that time was giving lessons; whether, as some say,

because he was an orphan, and was not able to pay Isocrates his

appointed fee of ten minae, or because he preferred Isaeus's

speaking, as being more business-like and effective in actual

use.  Hermippus says, that he met with certain memoirs without

any author's name, in which it was written that Demosthenes was

a scholar to Plato, and learnt much of his eloquence from him;

and he also mentions Ctesibius, as reporting from Callias of

Syracuse and some others, that Demosthenes secretly obtained a

knowledge of the systems of Isocrates and Alcidamas, and

mastered them thoroughly.

As soon, therefore, as he was grown up to man's estate, he began

to go to law with his guardians, and to write orations against

them; who, in the meantime, had recourse to various subterfuges

and pleas for new trials, and Demosthenes, though he was thus,

as Thucydides says, taught his business in dangers, and by his

own exertions was successful in his suit, was yet unable for all

this to recover so much as a small fraction of his patrimony.

He only attained some degree of confidence in speaking, and some

competent experience in it.  And having got a taste of the honor

and power which are acquired by pleadings, he now ventured to

come forth, and to undertake public business.  And, as it is

said of Laomedon, the Orchomenian, that by advice of his

physician, he used to run long distances to keep off some

disease of his spleen, and by that means having, through labor

and exercise, framed the habit of his body, he betook himself to

the great garland games, and became one of the best runners at

the long race; so it happened to Demosthenes, who, first

venturing upon oratory for the recovery of his own private

property, by this acquired ability in speaking, and at length,

in public business, as it were in the great games, came to have

the preeminence of all competitors in the assembly.  But when he

first addressed himself to the people, he met with great

discouragements, and was derided for his strange and uncouth

style, which was cumbered with long sentences and tortured with

formal arguments to a most harsh and disagreeable excess.

Besides, he had, it seems, a weakness in his voice, a perplexed

and indistinct utterance and a shortness of breath, which, by

breaking and disjointing his sentences much obscured the sense

and meaning of what he spoke.  So that in the end, being quite

disheartened, he forsook the assembly; and as he was walking

carelessly and sauntering about the Piraeus, Eunomus, the

Thriasian, then a very old man, seeing him, upbraided him,

saying that his diction was very much like that of Pericles, and

that he was wanting to himself through cowardice and meanness of

spirit, neither bearing up with courage against popular outcry,

nor fitting his body for action, but suffering it to languish

through mere sloth and negligence.

Another time, when the assembly had refused to hear him, and he

was going home with his head muffled up, taking it very heavily,

they relate that Satyrus, the actor, followed him, and being his

familiar acquaintance, entered into conversation with him.  To

whom, when Demosthenes bemoaned himself, that having been the

most industrious of all the pleaders, and having almost spent

the whole strength and vigor of his body in that employment, he

could not yet find any acceptance with the people, that drunken

sots, mariners, and illiterate fellows were heard, and had the

hustings for their own, while he himself was despised, "You say

true, Demosthenes," replied Satyrus, "but I will quickly remedy

the cause of all this, if you will repeat to me some passage out

of Euripides or Sophocles."  Which when Demosthenes had

pronounced, Satyrus presently taking it up after him gave the

same passage, in his rendering of it, such a new form, by

accompanying it with the proper mien and gesture, that to

Demosthenes it seemed quite another thing.  By this being

convinced how much grace and ornament language acquires from

action, he began to esteem it a small matter, and as good as

nothing for a man to exercise himself in declaiming, if he

neglected enunciation and delivery.  Hereupon he built himself a

place to study in underground, (which was still remaining in our

time,) and hither he would come constantly every day to form his

action, and to exercise his voice; and here he would continue,

oftentimes without intermission, two or three months together,

shaving one half of his head, that so for shame he might not go

abroad, though he desired it ever so much.

Nor was this all, but he also made his conversation with people

abroad, his common speech, and his business, subservient to his

studies, taking from hence occasions and arguments as matter to

work upon.  For as soon as he was parted from his company, down

he would go at once into his study, and run over everything in

order that had passed, and the reasons that might be alleged for

and against it.  Any speeches, also, that he was present at, he

would go over again with himself, and reduce into periods; and

whatever others spoke to him, or he to them, he would correct,

transform, and vary several ways.  Hence it was, that he was

looked upon as a person of no great natural genius, but one who

owed all the power and ability he had in speaking to labor and

industry.  Of the truth of which it was thought to be no small

sign, that he was very rarely heard to speak upon the occasion,

but though he were by name frequently called upon by the people,

as he sat in the assembly, yet he would not rise unless he had

previously considered the subject, and came prepared for it.  So

that many of the popular pleaders used to make it a jest against

him; and Pytheas once, scoffing at him, said that his arguments

smelt of the lamp.  To which Demosthenes gave the sharp answer,

"It is true, indeed, Pytheas, that your lamp and mine are not

conscious of the same things."  To others, however, he would not

much deny it, but would admit frankly enough, that he neither

entirely wrote his speeches beforehand, nor yet spoke wholly

extempore.  And he would affirm, that it was the more truly

popular act to use premeditation, such preparation being a kind

of respect to the people; whereas, to slight and take no care

how what is said is likely to be received by the audience, shows

something of an oligarchical temper, and is the course of one

that intends force rather than persuasion.  Of his want of

courage and assurance to speak off-hand, they make it also

another argument, that when he was at a loss, and discomposed,

Demades would often rise up on the sudden to support him, but he

was never observed to do the same for Demades.

Whence then, may some say, was it, that Aeschines speaks of him

as a person so much to be wondered at for his boldness in

speaking?  Or, how could it be, when Python, the Byzantine,

"with so much confidence and such a torrent of words inveighed

against" the Athenians, that Demosthenes alone stood up to

oppose him?  Or, when Lamachus, the Myrinaean, had written a

panegyric upon king Philip and Alexander, in which he uttered

many things in reproach of the Thebans and Olynthians, and at

the Olympic Games recited it publicly, how was it, that he,

rising up, and recounting historically and demonstratively what

benefits and advantages all Greece had received from the Thebans

and Chalcidians, and on the contrary, what mischiefs the

flatterers of the Macedonians had brought upon it, so turned the

minds of all that were present that the sophist, in alarm at the

outcry against him, secretly made his way out of the assembly?

But Demosthenes, it should seem, regarded other points in the

character of Pericles to be unsuited to him; but his reserve and

his sustained manner, and his forbearing to speak on the sudden,

or upon every occasion, as being the things to which principally

he owed his greatness, these he followed, and endeavored to

imitate, neither wholly neglecting the glory which present

occasion offered, nor yet willing too often to expose his

faculty to the mercy of chance.  For, in fact, the orations

which were spoken by him had much more of boldness and

confidence in them than those that he wrote, if we may believe

Eratosthenes, Demetrius the Phalerian, and the Comedians.

Eratosthenes says that often in his speaking he would be

transported into a kind of ecstasy, and Demetrius, that he

uttered the famous metrical adjuration to the people,

By the earth, the springs, the rivers, and the streams,

as a man inspired, and beside himself.  One of the comedians

calls him a rhopoperperethras, and another scoffs at him for

his use of antithesis: —

And what he took, took back; a phrase to please

The very fancy of Demosthenes.

Unless, indeed, this also is meant by Antiphanes for a jest upon

the speech on Halonesus, which Demosthenes advised the Athenians

not to take at Philip's hands, but to take back.

All, however, used to consider Demades, in the mere use of his

natural gifts, an orator impossible to surpass, and that in what

he spoke on the sudden, he excelled all the study and

preparation of Demosthenes.  And Ariston the Chian, has recorded

a judgment which Theophrastus passed upon the orators; for being

asked what kind of orator he accounted Demosthenes, he answered,

"Worthy of the city of Athens;" and then, what he thought of

Demades, he answered, "Above it." And the same philosopher

reports, that Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, one of the Athenian

politicians about that time, was wont to say that Demosthenes

was the greatest orator, but Phocion the ablest, as he expressed

the most sense in the fewest words.  And, indeed, it is related,

that Demosthenes himself, as often as Phocion stood up to plead

against him, would say to his acquaintance, "Here comes the

knife to my speech."  Yet it does not appear whether he had this

feeling for his powers of speaking, or for his life and

character, and meant to say that one word or nod from a man who

was really trusted, would go further than a thousand lengthy

periods from others.

Demetrius, the Phalerian, tells us, that he was informed by

Demosthenes himself, now grown old, that the ways he made use of

to remedy his natural bodily infirmities and defects were such

as these; his inarticulate and stammering pronunciation he

overcame and rendered more distinct by speaking with pebbles in

his mouth; his voice he disciplined by declaiming and reciting

speeches or verses when he was out of breath, while running or

going up steep places; and that in his house he had a large

looking-glass, before which he would stand and go through his

exercises.  It is told that someone once came to request his

assistance as a pleader, and related how he had been assaulted

and beaten.  "Certainly," said Demosthenes, "nothing of the kind

can have happened to you."  Upon which the other, raising his

voice, exclaimed loudly, "What, Demosthenes, nothing has been

done to me?"  "Ah," replied Demosthenes, "now I hear the voice

of one that has been injured and beaten."  Of so great

consequence towards the gaining of belief did he esteem the tone

and action of the speaker.  The action which he used himself was

wonderfully pleasing to the common people; but by well-educated

people, as, for example, by Demetrius, the Phalerian, it was

looked upon as mean, humiliating, and unmanly.  And Hermippus

says of Aesion, that, being asked his opinion concerning the

ancient orators and those of his own time, he answered that it

was admirable to see with what composure and in what high style

they addressed themselves to the people; but that the orations

of Demosthenes, when they are read, certainly appear to be

superior in point of construction, and more effective. His

written speeches, beyond all question, are characterized by

austere tone and by their severity.  In his extempore retorts

and rejoinders, he allowed himself the use of jest and mockery.

When Demades said, "Demosthenes teach me!  So might the sow

teach Minerva!" he replied, "Was it this Minerva, that was

lately found playing the harlot in Collytus?"  When a thief,

who had the nickname of the Brazen, was attempting to upbraid

him for sitting up late, and writing by candlelight, "I know

very well," said he, "that you had rather have all lights out;

and wonder not, O ye men of Athens, at the many robberies which

are committed, since we have thieves of brass and walls of

clay."  But on these points, though we have much more to

mention, we will add nothing at present.  We will proceed to

take an estimate of his character from his actions and his life

as a statesman.

His first entering into public business was much about the time

of the Phocian war, as himself affirms, and may be collected

from his Philippic orations.  For of these, some were made after

that action was over, and the earliest of them refer to its

concluding events.  It is certain that he engaged in the

accusation of Midias when he was but two and thirty years old,

having as yet no interest or reputation as a politician.  And

this it was, I consider, that induced him to withdraw the

action, and accept a sum of money as a compromise.  For of

himself

He was no easy or good-natured man,

but of a determined disposition, and resolute to see himself

righted; however, finding it a hard matter and above his

strength to deal with Midias, a man so well secured on all sides

with money, eloquence, and friends, he yielded to the entreaties

of those who interceded for him.  But had he seen any hopes or

possibility of prevailing, I cannot believe that three thousand

drachmas could have taken off the edge of his revenge.  The

object which he chose for himself in the commonwealth was noble

and just, the defense of the Grecians against Philip; and in

this he behaved himself so worthily that he soon grew famous,

and excited attention everywhere for his eloquence and courage

in speaking.  He was admired through all Greece, the king of

Persia courted him, and by Philip himself he was more esteemed

than all the other orators.  His very enemies were forced to

confess that they had to do with a man of mark; for such a

character even Aeschines and Hyperides give him, where they

accuse and speak against him.

So that I cannot imagine what ground Theopompus had to say, that

Demosthenes was of a fickle, unsettled disposition, and could

not long continue firm either to the same men or the same

affairs; whereas the contrary is most apparent, for the same

party and post in politics which he held from the beginning, to

these he kept constant to the end; and was so far from leaving

them while he lived, that he chose rather to forsake his life

than his purpose.  He was never heard to apologize for shifting

sides like Demades, who would say, he often spoke against

himself, but never against the city; nor as Melanopus, who,

being generally against Callistratus, but being often bribed off

with money, was wont to tell the people, "The man indeed is my

enemy, but we must submit for the good of our country;" nor

again as Nicodemus, the Messenian, who having first appeared on

Cassander's side, and afterwards taken part with Demetrius, said

the two things were not in themselves contrary, it being always

most advisable to obey the conqueror.  We have nothing of this

kind to say against Demosthenes, as one who would turn aside or

prevaricate, either in word or deed.  There could not have been

less variation in his public acts if they had all been played,

so to say, from first to last, from the same score.  Panaetius,

the philosopher, said, that most of his orations are so written,

as if they were to prove this one conclusion, that what is

honest and virtuous is for itself only to be chosen; as that of

the Crown, that against Aristocrates, that for the Immunities,

and the Philippics; in all which he persuades his

fellow-citizens to pursue not that which seems most pleasant,

easy, or profitable; but declares over and over again, that they

ought in the first place to prefer that which is just and

honorable, before their own safety and preservation.  So that if

he had kept his hands clean, if his courage for the wars had

been answerable to the generosity of his principles, and the

dignity of his orations, he might deservedly have his name

placed, not in the number of such orators as Moerocles,

Polyeuctus, and Hyperides, but in the highest rank with Cimon,

Thucydides, and Pericles.

Certainly amongst those who were contemporary with him, Phocion,

though he appeared on the less commendable side in the

commonwealth, and was counted as one of the Macedonian party,

nevertheless, by his courage and his honesty, procured himself a

name not inferior to those of Ephialtes, Aristides, and Cimon.

But Demosthenes, being neither fit to be relied on for courage

in arms, as Demetrius says, nor on all sides inaccessible to

bribery (for how invincible soever he was against the gifts of

Philip and the Macedonians, yet elsewhere he lay open to

assault, and was overpowered by the gold which came down from

Susa and Ecbatana), was therefore esteemed better able to

recommend than to imitate the virtues of past times.  And yet

(excepting only Phocion), even in his life and manners, he far

surpassed the other orators of his time.  None of them addressed

the people so boldly; he attacked the faults, and opposed

himself to the unreasonable desires of the multitude, as may be

seen in his orations.  Theopompus writes, that the Athenians

having by name selected Demosthenes, and called upon him to

accuse a certain person, he refused to do it; upon which the

assembly being all in an uproar, he rose up and said, "Your

counselor, whether you will or no, O ye men of Athens, you shall

always have me; but a sycophant or false accuser, though you

would have me, I shall never be."  And his conduct in the case

of Antiphon was perfectly aristocratical; whom, after he had

been acquitted in the assembly, he took and brought before the

court of Areopagus, and, setting at naught the displeasure of

the people, convicted him there of having promised Philip to

burn the arsenal; whereupon the man was condemned by that

court, and suffered for it.  He accused, also, Theoris, the

priestess, amongst other misdemeanors, of having instructed and

taught the slaves to deceive and cheat their masters, for which

the sentence of death passed upon her, and she was executed.

The oration which Apollodorus made use of, and by it carried the

cause against Timotheus, the general, in an action of debt, it

is said was written for him by Demosthenes; as also those

against Phormion and Stephanus, in which latter case he was

thought to have acted dishonorably, for the speech which

Phormion used against Apollodorus was also of his making; he, as

it were, having simply furnished two adversaries out of the same

shop with weapons to wound one another.  Of his orations

addressed to the public assemblies, that against Androtion, and

those against Timocrates and Aristocrates, were written for

others, before he had come forward himself as a politician.

They were composed, it seems, when he was but seven or eight and

twenty years old.  That against Aristogiton, and that for the

Immunities, he spoke himself, at the request, as he says, of

Ctesippus, the son of Chabrias, but, as some say, out of

courtship to the young man's mother.  Though, in fact, he did

not marry her, for his wife was a woman of Samos, as Demetrius,

the Magnesian, writes, in his book on Persons of the same Name.

It is not certain whether his oration against Aeschines, for

Misconduct as Ambassador, was ever spoken; although Idomeneus

says that Aeschines wanted only thirty voices to condemn him.

But this seems not to be correct, at least so far as may be

conjectured from both their orations concerning the Crown; for

in these, neither of them speaks clearly or directly of it, as a

cause that ever came to trial.  But let others decide this

controversy.

It was evident, even in time of peace, what course Demosthenes

would steer in the commonwealth; for whatever was done by the

Macedonian, he criticized and found fault with, and upon all

occasions was stirring up the people of Athens, and inflaming

them against him.  Therefore, in the court of Philip, no man was

so much talked of, or of so great account as he; and when he

came thither, one of the ten ambassadors who were sent into

Macedonia, though all had audience given them, yet his speech

was answered with most care and exactness.  But in other

respects, Philip entertained him not so honorably as the rest,

neither did he show him the same kindness and civility with

which he applied himself to the party of Aeschines and

Philocrates.  So that, when the others commended Philip for his

able speaking, his beautiful person, nay, and also for his good

companionship in drinking, Demosthenes could not refrain from

caviling at these praises; the first, he said, was a quality

which might well enough become a rhetorician, the second a

woman, and the last was only the property of a sponge; no one of

them was the proper commendation of a prince.

But when things came at last to war, Philip on the one side

being not able to live in peace, and the Athenians, on the other

side, being stirred up by Demosthenes, the first action he put

them upon was the reducing of Euboea, which, by the treachery of

the tyrants, was brought under subjection to Philip.  And on his

proposition, the decree was voted, and they crossed over thither

and chased the Macedonians out of the island.  The next, was the

relief of the Byzantines and Perinthians, whom the Macedonians

at that time were attacking.  He persuaded the people to lay

aside their enmity against these cities, to forget the offenses

committed by them in the Confederate War, and to send them such

succors as eventually saved and secured them.  Not long after,

he undertook an embassy through the States of Greece, which he

solicited and so far incensed against Philip, that, a few only

excepted, he brought them all into a general league.  So that,

besides the forces composed of the citizens themselves, there

was an army consisting of fifteen thousand foot and two thousand

horse, and the money to pay these strangers was levied and

brought in with great cheerfulness.  On which occasion it was,

says Theophrastus, on the allies requesting that their

contributions for the war might be ascertained and stated,

Crobylus, the orator, made use of the saying, "War can't be fed

at so much a day."  Now was all Greece up in arms, and in great

expectation what would be the event.  The Euboeans, the

Achaeans, the Corinthians, the Megarians, the Leucadians, and

Corcyraeans, their people and their cities, were all joined

together in a league.  But the hardest task was yet behind, left

for Demosthenes, to draw the Thebans into this confederacy with

the rest.  Their country bordered next upon Attica, they had

great forces for the war, and at that time they were accounted

the best soldiers of all Greece, but it was no easy matter to

make them break with Philip, who, by many good offices, had so

lately obliged them in the Phocian war; especially considering

how the subjects of dispute and variance between the two cities

were continually renewed and exasperated by petty quarrels,

arising out of the proximity of their frontiers.

But after Philip, being now grown high and puffed up with his

good success at Amphissa, on a sudden surprised Elatea and

possessed himself of Phocis, and the Athenians were in a great

consternation, none durst venture to rise up to speak, no one

knew what to say, all were at a loss, and the whole assembly in

silence and perplexity, in this extremity of affairs,

Demosthenes was the only man who appeared, his counsel to them

being alliance with the Thebans.  And having in other ways

encouraged the people, and, as his manner was, raised their

spirits up with hopes, he, with some others, was sent ambassador

to Thebes.  To oppose him, as Marsyas says, Philip also sent

thither his envoys, Amyntas and Clearellus, two Macedonians,

besides Daochus, a Thessalian, and Thrasydaeus.  Now the

Thebans, in their consultations, were well enough aware what

suited best with their own interest, but everyone had before

his eyes the terrors of war, and their losses in the Phocian

troubles were still recent: but such was the force and power of

the orator, fanning up, as Theopompus says, their courage, and

firing their emulation, that casting away every thought of

prudence, fear, or obligation, in a sort of divine possession,

they chose the path of honor, to which his words invited them.

And this success, thus accomplished by an orator, was thought to

be so glorious and of such consequence, that Philip immediately

sent heralds to treat and petition for a peace: all Greece was

aroused, and up in arms to help.  And the commanders-in-chief,

not only of Attica, but of Boeotia, applied themselves to

Demosthenes, and observed his directions.  He managed all the

assemblies of the Thebans, no less than those of the Athenians;

he was beloved both by the one and by the other, and exercised

the same supreme authority with both; and that not by unfair

means, or without just cause, as Theopompus professes, but

indeed it was no more than was due to his merit.

But there was, it should seem, some divinely-ordered fortune,

commissioned, in the revolution of things, to put a period at

this time to the liberty of Greece, which opposed and thwarted

all their actions, and by many signs foretold what should

happen.  Such were the sad predictions uttered by the Pythian

priestess, and this old oracle cited out of the Sibyl's verses,

—

The battle on Thermodon that shall be

Safe at a distance I desire to see,

Far, like an eagle, watching in the air.

Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there.

This Thermodon, they say, is a little rivulet here in our

country in Chaeronea, running into the Cephisus.  But we know of

none that is so called at the present time; and can only

conjecture that the streamlet which is now called Haemon, and

runs by the Temple of Hercules, where the Grecians were

encamped, might perhaps in those days be called Thermodon, and

after the fight, being filled with blood and dead bodies, upon

this occasion, as we guess, might change its old name for that

which it now bears.  Yet Duris says that this Thermodon was no

river, but that some of the soldiers, as they were pitching

their tents and digging trenches about them, found a small stone

statue, which, by the inscription, appeared to be the figure of

Thermodon, carrying a wounded Amazon in his arms; and that there

was another oracle current about it, as follows: —

The battle on Thermodon that shall be,

Fail not, black raven, to attend and see;

The flesh of men shall there abound for thee.

In fine, it is not easy to determine what is the truth.  But of

Demosthenes it is said, that he had such great confidence in the

Grecian forces, and was so excited by the sight of the courage

and resolution of so many brave men ready to engage the enemy,

that he would by no means endure they should give any heed to

oracles, or hearken to prophecies, but gave out that he

suspected even the prophetess herself, as if she had been

tampered with to speak in favor of Philip.  The Thebans he put

in mind of Epaminondas, the Athenians, of Pericles, who always

took their own measures and governed their actions by reason,

looking upon things of this kind as mere pretexts for cowardice.

Thus far, therefore, Demosthenes acquitted himself like a brave

man.  But in the fight he did nothing honorable, nor was his

performance answerable to his speeches.  For he fled, deserting

his place disgracefully, and throwing away his arms, not

ashamed, as Pytheas observed, to belie the inscription written

on his shield, in letters of gold, "With good fortune."

In the meantime Philip, in the first moment of victory, was so

transported with joy, that he grew extravagant, and going out,

after he had drunk largely, to visit the dead bodies, he chanted

the first words of the decree that had been passed on the motion

of Demosthenes,

The motion of Demosthenes, Demosthenes's son,

dividing it metrically into feet, and marking the beats.

But when he came to himself, and had well considered the danger

he was lately under, he could not forbear from shuddering at the

wonderful ability and power of an orator who had made him hazard

his life and empire on the issue of a few brief hours.  The fame

of it also reached even to the court of Persia, and the king

sent letters to his lieutenants, commanding them to supply

Demosthenes with money, and to pay every attention to him, as

the only man of all the Grecians who was able to give Philip

occupation and find employment for his forces near home, in the

troubles of Greece.  This afterwards came to the knowledge of

Alexander, by certain letters of Demosthenes which he found at

Sardis, and by other papers of the Persian officers, stating the

large sums which had been given him.

At this time, however, upon the ill success which now happened

to the Grecians, those of the contrary faction in the

commonwealth fell foul upon Demosthenes, and took the

opportunity to frame several informations and indictments

against him.  But the people not only acquitted him of these

accusations, but continued towards him their former respect, and

still invited him, as a man that meant well, to take a part in

public affairs.  Insomuch that when the bones of those who had

been slain at Chaeronea were brought home to be solemnly

interred, Demosthenes was the man they chose to make the funeral

oration.  They did not show, under the misfortunes which befell

them, a base or ignoble mind, as Theopompus writes in his

exaggerated style, but, on the contrary, by the honor and

respect paid to their counselor, they made it appear that they

were noway dissatisfied with the counsels he had given them.

The speech, therefore, was spoken by Demosthenes.  But the

subsequent decrees he would not allow to be passed in his own

name, but made use of those of his friends, one after another,

looking upon his own as unfortunate and inauspicious; till at

length he took courage again after the death of Philip, who did

not long outlive his victory at Chaeronea.  And this, it seems,

was that which was foretold in the last verse of the oracle,

Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there.

Demosthenes had secret intelligence of the death of Philip, and

laying hold of this opportunity to prepossess the people with

courage and better hopes for the future, he came into the

assembly with a cheerful countenance, pretending to have had a

dream that presaged some great good fortune for Athens; and, not

long after, arrived the messengers who brought the news of

Philip's death.  No sooner had the people received it but

immediately they offered sacrifice to the gods, and decreed that

Pausanias should be presented with a crown.  Demosthenes

appeared publicly in a rich dress, with a chaplet on his head,

though it were but the seventh day since the death of his

daughter, as is said by Aeschines, who upbraids him upon this

account, and rails at him as one void of natural affection

towards his children.  Whereas, indeed, he rather betrays

himself to be of a poor, low spirit, and effeminate mind, if he

really means to make wailings and lamentation the only signs of

a gentle and affectionate nature, and to condemn those who bear

such accidents with more temper and less passion.  For my own

part, I cannot say that the behavior of the Athenians on this

occasion was wise or honorable, to crown themselves with

garlands and to sacrifice to the Gods for the death of a Prince

who, in the midst of his success and victories, when they were a

conquered people, had used them with so much clemency and

humanity.  For besides provoking fortune, it was a base thing,

and unworthy in itself, to make him a citizen of Athens, and pay

him honors while he lived, and yet as soon as he fell by

another's hand, to set no bounds to their jollity, to insult

over him dead, and to sing triumphant songs of victory, as if by

their own valor they had vanquished him.  I must at the same

time commend the behavior of Demosthenes, who, leaving tears and

lamentations and domestic sorrows to the women, made it his

business to attend to the interests of the commonwealth.  And I

think it the duty of him who would be accounted to have a soul

truly valiant, and fit for government, that, standing always

firm to the common good, and letting private griefs and troubles

find their compensation in public blessings, he should maintain

the dignity of his character and station, much more than actors

who represent the persons of kings and tyrants, who, we see,

when they either laugh or weep on the stage, follow, not their

own private inclinations, but the course consistent with the

subject and with their position.  And if, moreover, when our

neighbor is in misfortune, it is not our duty to forbear

offering any consolation, but rather to say whatever may tend to

cheer him, and to invite his attention to any agreeable objects,

just as we tell people who are troubled with sore eyes, to

withdraw their sight from bright and offensive colors to green,

and those of a softer mixture, from whence can a man seek, in

his own case, better arguments of consolation for afflictions in

his family, than from the prosperity of his country, by making

public and domestic chances count, so to say, together, and the

better fortune of the state obscure and conceal the less happy

circumstances of the individual.  I have been induced to say so

much, because I have known many readers melted by Aeschines's

language into a soft and unmanly tenderness.

But now to return to my narrative.  The cities of Greece were

inspirited once more by the efforts of Demosthenes to form a

league together.  The Thebans, whom he had provided with arms,

set upon their garrison, and slew many of them; the Athenians

made preparations to join their forces with them; Demosthenes

ruled supreme in the popular assembly, and wrote letters to the

Persian officers who commanded under the king in Asia, inciting

them to make war upon the Macedonian, calling him child and

simpleton. But as soon as Alexander had settled matters in his

own country, and came in person with his army into Boeotia, down

fell the courage of the Athenians, and Demosthenes was hushed;

the Thebans, deserted by them, fought by themselves, and lost

their city.  After which, the people of Athens, all in distress

and great perplexity, resolved to send ambassadors to Alexander,

and amongst others, made choice of Demosthenes for one; but his

heart failing him for fear of the king's anger, he returned back

from Cithaeron, and left the embassy.  In the meantime,

Alexander sent to Athens, requiring ten of their orators to be

delivered up to him, as Idomeneus and Duris have reported, but

as the most and best historians say, he demanded these eight

only: Demosthenes, Polyeuctus, Ephialtes, Lycurgus, Moerocles,

Demon, Callisthenes, and Charidemus.  It was upon this occasion

that Demosthenes related to them the fable in which the sheep

are said to deliver up their dogs to the wolves; himself and

those who with him contended for the people's safety, being, in

his comparison, the dogs that defended the flock, and Alexander

"the Macedonian arch wolf."  He further told them, "As we see

corn-masters sell their whole stock by a few grains of wheat

which they carry about with them in a dish, as a sample of the

rest, so you, by delivering up us, who are but a few, do at the

same time unawares surrender up yourselves all together with

us;" so we find it related in the history of Aristobulus, the

Cassandrian.  The Athenians were deliberating, and at a loss

what to do, when Demades, having agreed with the persons whom

Alexander had demanded, for five talents, undertook to go

ambassador, and to intercede with the king for them; and,

whether it was that he relied on his friendship and kindness, or

that he hoped to find him satiated, as a lion glutted with

slaughter, he certainly went, and prevailed with him both to

pardon the men, and to be reconciled to the city.

So he and his friends, when Alexander went away, were great men,

and Demosthenes was quite put aside.  Yet when Agis, the

Spartan, made his insurrection, he also for a short time

attempted a movement in his favor; but he soon shrunk back

again, as the Athenians would not take any part in it, and, Agis

being slain, the Lacedaemonians were vanquished.  During this

time it was that the indictment against Ctesiphon, concerning

the Crown, was brought to trial.  The action was commenced a

little before the battle in Chaeronea, when Chaerondas was

archon, but it was not proceeded with till about ten years

after, Aristophon being then archon.  Never was any public cause

more celebrated than this, alike for the fame of the orators,

and for the generous courage of the judges, who, though at that

time the accusers of Demosthenes were in the height of power,

and supported by all the favor of the Macedonians, yet would not

give judgment against him, but acquitted him so honorably, that

Aeschines did not obtain the fifth part of their suffrages on

his side, so that, immediately after, he left the city, and

spent the rest of his life in teaching rhetoric about the island

of Rhodes, and upon the continent in Ionia.

It was not long after that Harpalus fled from Alexander, and

came to Athens out of Asia; knowing himself guilty of many

misdeeds into which his love of luxury had led him, and fearing

the king, who was now grown terrible even to his best friends.

Yet this man had no sooner addressed himself to the people, and

delivered up his goods, his ships, and himself to their

disposal, but the other orators of the town had their eyes

quickly fixed upon his money, and came in to his assistance,

persuading the Athenians to receive and protect their suppliant.

Demosthenes at first gave advice to chase him out of the

country, and to beware lest they involved their city in a war

upon an unnecessary and unjust occasion.  But some few days

after, as they were taking an account of the treasure, Harpalus,

perceiving how much he was pleased with a cup of Persian

manufacture, and how curiously he surveyed the sculpture and

fashion of it, desired him to poise it in his hand, and consider

the weight of the gold.  Demosthenes, being amazed to feel how

heavy it was, asked him what weight it came to.  "To you," said

Harpalus, smiling, "it shall come with twenty talents."  And

presently after, when night drew on, he sent him the cup with so

many talents.  Harpalus, it seems, was a person of singular

skill to discern a man's covetousness by the air of his

countenance, and the look and movements of his eyes.  For

Demosthenes could not resist the temptation, but admitting the

present, like an armed garrison, into the citadel of his house,

he surrendered himself up to the interest of Harpalus.  The next

day, he came into the assembly with his neck swathed about with

wool and rollers, and when they called on him to rise up and

speak, he made signs as if he had lost his voice.  But the wits,

turning the matter to ridicule, said that certainly the orator

had been seized that night with no other than a silver quinsy.

And soon after, the people, becoming aware of the bribery, grew

angry, and would not suffer him to speak, or make any apology

for himself, but ran him down with noise; and one man stood up,

and cried out, "What, ye men of Athens, will you not hear the

cup-bearer?"  So at length they banished Harpalus out of the

city; and fearing lest they should be called to account for the

treasure which the orators had purloined, they made a strict

inquiry, going from house to house; only Callicles, the son of

Arrhenidas, who was newly married, they would not suffer to be

searched, out of respect, as Theopompus writes, to the bride,

who was within.

Demosthenes resisted the inquisition, and proposed a decree to

refer the business to the court of Areopagus, and to punish

those whom that court should find guilty.  But being himself one

of the first whom the court condemned, when he came to the bar,

he was fined fifty talents, and committed to prison; where, out

of shame of the crime for which he was condemned, and through

the weakness of his body, growing incapable of supporting the

confinement, he made his escape, by the carelessness of some and

by the connivance of others of the citizens.  We are told, at

least, that he had not fled far from the city, when, finding

that he was pursued by some of those who had been his

adversaries, he endeavored to hide himself.  But when they

called him by his name, and coming up nearer to him, desired he

would accept from them some money which they had brought from

home as a provision for his journey, and to that purpose only

had followed him, when they entreated him to take courage, and

to bear up against his misfortune, he burst out into much

greater lamentation, saying, "But how is it possible to support

myself under so heavy an affliction, since I leave a city in

which I have such enemies, as in any other it is not easy to

find friends."  He did not show much fortitude in his

banishment, spending his time for the most part in Aegina and

Troezen, and, with tears in his eyes, looking towards the

country of Attica.  And there remain upon record some sayings of

his, little resembling those sentiments of generosity and

bravery which he used to express when he had the management of

the commonwealth.  For, as he was departing out of the city, it

is reported, he lifted up his hands towards the Acropolis, and

said, "O Lady Minerva, how is it that thou takest delight in

three such fierce untractable beast, the owl, the snake, and the

people?"  The young men that came to visit and converse with

him, he deterred from meddling with state affairs, telling them,

that if at first two ways had been proposed to him, the one

leading to the speaker's stand and the assembly, the other going

direct to destruction, and he could have foreseen the many evils

which attend those who deal in public business, such as fears,

envies, calumnies, and contentions, he would certainly have

taken that which led straight on to his death.

But now happened the death of Alexander, while Demosthenes was

in this banishment which we have been speaking of.  And the

Grecians were once again up in arms, encouraged by the brave

attempts of Leosthenes, who was then drawing a circumvallation

about Antipater, whom he held close besieged in Lamia.  Pytheas,

therefore, the orator, and Callimedon, called the Crab, fled

from Athens, and taking sides with Antipater, went about with

his friends and ambassadors to keep the Grecians from revolting

and taking part with the Athenians.  But, on the other side,

Demosthenes, associating himself with the ambassadors that came

from Athens, used his utmost endeavors and gave them his best

assistance in persuading the cities to fall unanimously upon the

Macedonians, and to drive them out of Greece.  Phylarchus says

that in Arcadia there happened a rencounter between Pytheas and

Demosthenes, which came at last to downright railing, while the

one pleaded for the Macedonians, and the other for the Grecians.

Pytheas said, that as we always suppose there is some disease in

the family to which they bring asses' milk, so wherever there

comes an embassy from Athens, that city must needs be

indisposed.  And Demosthenes answered him, retorting the

comparison: "Asses' milk is brought to restore health, and the

Athenians come for the safety and recovery of the sick."  With

this conduct the people of Athens were so well pleased, that

they decreed the recall of Demosthenes from banishment.  The

decree was brought in by Demon the Paeanian, cousin to

Demosthenes.  So they sent him a ship to Aegina, and he landed at

the port of Piraeus, where he was met and joyfully received by

all the citizens, not so much as an Archon or a priest staying

behind.  And Demetrius, the Magnesian, says, that he lifted up

his hands towards heaven, and blessed this day of his happy

return, as far more honorable than that of Alcibiades; since he

was recalled by his countrymen, not through any force or

constraint put upon them, but by their own good-will and free

inclinations.  There remained only his pecuniary fine, which,

according to law, could not be remitted by the people.  But they

found out a way to elude the law.  It was a custom with them to

allow a certain quantity of silver to those who were to furnish

and adorn the altar for the sacrifice of Jupiter Soter.  This

office, for that turn, they bestowed on Demosthenes, and for the

performance of it ordered him fifty talents, the very sum in

which he was condemned.

Yet it was no long time that he enjoyed his country after his

return, the attempts of the Greeks being soon all utterly

defeated.  For the battle at Cranon happened in Metagitnion, in

Boedromion the garrison entered into Munychia, and in the

Pyanepsion following died Demosthenes after this manner.

Upon the report that Antipater and Craterus were coming to

Athens, Demosthenes with his party took their opportunity to

escape privily out of the city; but sentence of death was, upon

the motion of Demades, passed upon them by the people.  They

dispersed themselves, flying some to one place, some to another;

and Antipater sent about his soldiers into all quarters to

apprehend them.  Archias was their captain, and was thence

called the exile-hunter.  He was a Thurian born, and is reported

to have been an actor of tragedies, and they say that Polus, of

Aegina, the best actor of his time, was his scholar; but

Hermippus reckons Archias among the disciples of Lacritus, the

orator, and Demetrius says, he spent some time with Anaximenes.

This Archias finding Hyperides the orator, Aristonicus of

Marathon, and Himeraeus, the brother of Demetrius the Phalerian,

in Aegina, took them by force out of the temple of Aeacus,

whither they were fled for safety, and sent them to Antipater,

then at Cleonae, where they were all put to death; and

Hyperides, they say, had his tongue cut out.

Demosthenes, he heard, had taken sanctuary at the temple of

Neptune in Calauria, and, crossing over thither in some light

vessels, as soon as he had landed himself, and the Thracian

spear-men that came with him, he endeavored to persuade

Demosthenes to accompany him to Antipater, as if he should meet

with no hard usage from him.  But Demosthenes, in his sleep the

night before, had a strange dream.  It seemed to him that he was

acting a tragedy, and contended with Archias for the victory;

and though he acquitted himself well, and gave good satisfaction

to the spectators, yet for want of better furniture and

provision for the stage, he lost the day.  And so, while Archias

was discoursing to him with many expressions of kindness, he

sat still in the same posture, and looking up steadfastly upon

him, "O Archias," said he, "I am as little affected by your

promises now as I used formerly to be by your acting."  Archias

at this beginning to grow angry and to threaten him, "Now," said

Demosthenes, "you speak like the genuine Macedonian oracle;

before you were but acting a part.  Therefore forbear only a

little, while I write a word or two home to my family."  Having

thus spoken, he withdrew into the temple, and taking a scroll,

as if he meant to write, he put the reed into his mouth, and

biting it, as he was wont to do when he was thoughtful or

writing, he held it there for some time.  Then he bowed down his

head and covered it.  The soldiers that stood at the door,

supposing all this to proceed from want of courage and fear of

death, in derision called him effeminate, and faint-hearted, and

coward.  And Archias, drawing near, desired him to rise up, and

repeating the same kind things he had spoken before, he once

more promised him to make his peace with Antipater.  But

Demosthenes, perceiving that now the poison had pierced and

seized his vitals, uncovered his head, and fixing his eyes upon

Archias, "Now," said he, "as soon as you please you may commence

the part of Creon in the tragedy, and cast out this body of mine

unburied.  But, O gracious Neptune, I, for my part, while I am

yet alive, arise up and depart out of this sacred place; though

Antipater and the Macedonians have not left so much as thy

temple unpolluted."  After he had thus spoken and desired to be

held up, because already he began to tremble and stagger, as he

was going forward, and passing by the altar, he fell down, and

with a groan gave up the ghost.

Ariston says that he took the poison out of a reed, as we have

shown before.  But Pappus, a certain historian whose history was

recovered by Hermippus, says, that as he fell near the altar,

there was found in his scroll this beginning only of a letter,

and nothing more, "Demosthenes to Antipater."  And that when his

sudden death was much wondered at, the Thracians who guarded the

doors reported that he took the poison into his hand out of a

rag, and put it in his mouth, and that they imagined it had been

gold which he swallowed; but the maid that served him, being

examined by the followers of Archias, affirmed that he had worn

it in a bracelet for a long time, as an amulet.  And

Eratosthenes also says that he kept the poison in a hollow ring,

and that that ring was the bracelet which he wore about his arm.

There are various other statements made by the many authors who

have related the story, but there is no need to enter into their

discrepancies; yet I must not omit what is said by Demochares,

the relation of Demosthenes, who is of opinion, it was not by

the help of poison that he met with so sudden and so easy a

death, but that by the singular favor and providence of the gods

he was thus rescued from the cruelty of the Macedonians.  He died

on the sixteenth of Pyanepsion, the most sad and solemn day of

the Thesmophoria, which the women observe by fasting in the

temple of the goddess.

Soon after his death, the people of Athens bestowed on him such

honors as he had deserved.  They erected his statue of brass;

they decreed that the eldest of his family should be maintained

in the Prytaneum; and on the base of his statue was engraven the

famous inscription, —

Had you for Greece been strong, as wise you were,

The Macedonian had not conquered her.

For it is simply ridiculous to say, as some have related, that

Demosthenes made these verses himself in Calauria, as he was

about to take the poison.

A little before we went to Athens, the following incident was

said to have happened.  A soldier, being summoned to appear

before his superior officer, and answer to an accusation brought

against him, put that little gold which he had into the hands of

Demosthenes's statue.  The fingers of this statue were folded

one within another, and near it grew a small plane-tree, from

which many leaves, either accidentally blown thither by the

wind, or placed so on purpose by the man himself falling

together, and lying round about the gold, concealed it for a

long time.  In the end, the soldier returned, and found his

treasure entire, and the fame of this incident was spread

abroad.  And many ingenious persons of the city competed with

each other, on this occasion, to vindicate the integrity of

Demosthenes, in several epigrams which they made on the subject.

As for Demades, he did not long enjoy the new honors he now came

in for, divine vengeance for the death of Demosthenes pursuing

him into Macedonia, where he was justly put to death by those

whom he had basely flattered.  They were weary of him before,

but at this time the guilt he lay under was manifest and

undeniable.  For some of his letters were intercepted, in which

he had encouraged Perdiccas to fall upon Macedonia, and to save

the Grecians, who, he said, hung only by an old rotten thread,

meaning Antipater.  Of this he was accused by Dinarchus, the

Corinthian, and Cassander was so enraged, that he first slew his

son in his bosom, and then gave orders to execute him; who

might-now at last, by his own extreme misfortunes, learn the

lesson, that traitors, who make sale of their country, sell

themselves first; a truth which Demosthenes had often foretold

him, and he would never believe.  Thus, Sosius, you have the

life of Demosthenes, from such accounts as we have either read

or heard concerning him.

CICERO

It is generally said, that Helvia, the mother of Cicero, was

both well born and lived a fair life; but of his father nothing

is reported but in extremes.  For whilst some would have him the

son of a fuller, and educated in that trade, others carry back

the origin of his family to Tullus Attius, an illustrious king

of the Volscians, who waged war not without honor against the

Romans.  However, he who first of that house was surnamed Cicero

seems to have been a person worthy to be remembered; since those

who succeeded him not only did not reject, but were fond of that

name, though vulgarly made a matter of reproach.  For the Latins

call a vetch Cicer, and a nick or dent at the tip of his nose,

which resembled the opening in a vetch, gave him the surname of

Cicero.

Cicero, whose story I am writing, is said to have replied with

spirit to some of his friends, who recommended him to lay aside

or change the name when he first stood for office and engaged in

politics, that he would make it his endeavor to render the name

of Cicero more glorious than that of the Scauri and Catuli.  And

when he was quaestor in Sicily, and was making an offering of

silver plate to the gods, and had inscribed his two names,

Marcus and Tullius, instead of the third he jestingly told the

artificer to engrave the figure of a vetch by them.  Thus much

is told us about his name.

Of his birth it is reported, that his mother was delivered

without pain or labor, on the third of the new Calends, the

same day on which now the magistrates of Rome pray and sacrifice

for the emperor.  It is said, also, that a vision appeared to

his nurse, and foretold the child she then suckled should

afterwards become a great benefit to the Roman States.  To such

presages, which might in general be thought mere fancies and

idle talk, he himself erelong gave the credit of true

prophecies.  For as soon as he was of an age to begin to have

lessons, he became so distinguished for his talent, and got such

a name and reputation amongst the boys, that their fathers would

often visit the school, that they might see young Cicero, and

might be able to say that they themselves had witnessed the

quickness and readiness in learning for which he was renowned.

And the more rude among them used to be angry with their

children, to see them, as they walked together, receiving Cicero

with respect into the middle place.  And being, as Plato would

have, the scholar-like and philosophical temper, eager for every

kind of learning, and indisposed to no description of knowledge

or instruction, he showed, however, a more peculiar propensity

to poetry; and there is a poem now extant, made by him when a

boy, in tetrameter verse, called Pontius Glaucus.  And

afterwards, when he applied himself more curiously to these

accomplishments, he had the name of being not only the best

orator, but also the best poet of Rome.  And the glory of his

rhetoric still remains, notwithstanding the many new modes in

speaking since his time; but his verses are forgotten and out of

all repute, so many ingenious poets having followed him.

Leaving his juvenile studies, he became an auditor of Philo the

Academic, whom the Romans, above all the other scholars of

Clitomachus, admired for his eloquence and loved for his

character.  He also sought the company of the Mucii, who were

eminent statesmen and leaders in the senate, and acquired from

them a knowledge of the laws.  For some short time he served in

arms under Sylla, in the Marsian war.  But perceiving the

commonwealth running into factions, and from faction all things

tending to an absolute monarchy, he betook himself to a retired

and contemplative life, and conversing with the learned Greeks,

devoted himself to study, till Sylla had obtained the

government, and the commonwealth was in some kind of settlement.

At this time, Chrysogonus, Sylla's emancipated slave, having

laid an information about an estate belonging to one who was

said to have been put to death by proscription, had bought it

himself for two thousand drachmas.  And when Roscius, the son

and heir of the dead, complained, and demonstrated the estate to

be worth two hundred and fifty talents, Sylla took it angrily to

have his actions questioned, and preferred a process against

Roscius for the murder of his father, Chrysogonus managing the

evidence.  None of the advocates durst assist him, but fearing

the cruelty of Sylla, avoided the cause.  The young man, being

thus deserted, came for refuge to Cicero.  Cicero's friends

encouraged him, saying he was not likely ever to have a fairer

and more honorable introduction to public life; he therefore

undertook the defense, carried the cause, and got much renown

for it.

But fearing Sylla, he traveled into Greece, and gave it out that

he did so for the benefit of his health.  And indeed he was lean

and meager, and had such a weakness in his stomach, that he

could take nothing but a spare and thin diet, and that not till

late in the evening.  His voice was loud and good, but so harsh

and unmanaged that in vehemence and heat of speaking he always

raised it to so high a tone, that there seemed to be reason to

fear about his health.

When he came to Athens, he was a hearer of Antiochus of Ascalon,

with whose fluency and elegance of diction he was much taken,

although he did not approve of his innovations in doctrine.  For

Antiochus had now fallen off from the New Academy, as they call

it, and forsaken the sect of Carneades, whether that he was

moved by the argument of manifestness and the senses, or, as

some say, had been led by feelings of rivalry and opposition to

the followers of Clitomachus and Philo to change his opinions,

and in most things to embrace the doctrine of the Stoics.  But

Cicero rather affected and adhered to the doctrines of the New

Academy; and purposed with himself, if he should be disappointed

of any employment in the commonwealth, to retire hither from

pleading and political affairs, and to pass his life with quiet

in the study of philosophy.

But after he had received the news of Sylla's death, and his

body, strengthened again by exercise, was come to a vigorous

habit, his voice managed and rendered sweet and full to the ear

and pretty well brought into keeping with his general

constitution, his friends at Rome earnestly soliciting him by

letters, and Antiochus also urging him to return to public

affairs, he again prepared for use his orator's instrument of

rhetoric, and summoned into action his political faculties,

diligently exercising himself in declamations, and attending the

most celebrated rhetoricians of the time.  He sailed from Athens

for Asia and Rhodes.  Amongst the Asian masters, he conversed

with Xenocles of Adramyttium, Dionysius of Magnesia, and

Menippus of Caria; at Rhodes, he studied oratory with

Apollonius, the son of Molon, and philosophy with Posidonius.

Apollonius, we are told, not understanding Latin, requested

Cicero to declaim in Greek.  He complied willingly, thinking

that his faults would thus be better pointed out to him.  And

after he finished, all his other hearers were astonished, and

contended who should praise him most, but Apollonius, who had

shown no signs of excitement whilst he was hearing him, so also

now, when it was over, sat musing for some considerable time,

without any remark.  And when Cicero was discomposed at this, he

said, "You have my praise and admiration, Cicero, and Greece my

pity and commiseration, since those arts and that eloquence

which are the only glories that remain to her, will now be

transferred by you to Rome."

And now when Cicero, full of expectation, was again bent upon

political affairs, a certain oracle blunted the edge of his

inclination; for consulting the god of Delphi how he should

attain most glory, the Pythoness answered, by making his own

genius and not the opinion of the people the guide of his life;

and therefore at first he passed his time in Rome cautiously,

and was very backward in pretending to public offices, so that

he was at that time in little esteem, and had got the names, so

readily given by low and ignorant people in Rome, of Greek and

Scholar.  But when his own desire of fame and the eagerness of

his father and relations had made him take in earnest to

pleading, he made no slow or gentle advance to the first place,

but shone out in full luster at once, and far surpassed all the

advocates of the bar.  At first, it is said, he, as well as

Demosthenes, was defective in his delivery, and on that account

paid much attention to the instructions, sometimes of Roscius

the comedian, and sometimes of Aesop the tragedian.  They tell

of this Aesop, that whilst he was representing on the theater

Atreus deliberating the revenge of Thyestes, he was so

transported beyond himself in the heat of action, that he struck

with his scepter one of the servants, who was running across the

stage, so violently, that he laid him dead upon the place.  And

such afterwards was Cicero's delivery, that it did not a little

contribute to render his eloquence persuasive.  He used to

ridicule loud speakers, saying that they shouted because they

could not speak, like lame men who get on horseback because they

cannot walk.  And his readiness and address in sarcasm, and

generally in witty sayings, was thought to suit a pleader very

well, and to be highly attractive, but his using it to excess

offended many, and gave him the repute of ill nature.

He was appointed quaestor in a great scarcity of corn, and had

Sicily for his province, where, though at first he displeased

many, by compelling them to send in their provisions to Rome,

yet after they had had experience of his care, justice, and

clemency, they honored him more than ever they did any of their

governors before.  It happened, also, that some young Romans of

good and noble families, charged with neglect of discipline and

misconduct in military service, were brought before the praetor

in Sicily.  Cicero undertook their defense, which he conducted

admirably, and got them acquitted.  So returning to Rome with a

great opinion of himself for these things, a ludicrous incident

befell him, as he tells us himself.  Meeting an eminent citizen

in Campania, whom he accounted his friend, he asked him what the

Romans said and thought of his actions, as if the whole city had

been filled with the glory of what he had done.  His friend

asked him in reply, "Where is it you have been, Cicero?"  This

for the time utterly mortified and cast him down, to perceive

that the report of his actions had sunk into the city of Rome as

into an immense ocean, without any visible effect or result in

reputation.  And afterwards considering with himself that the

glory he contended for was an infinite thing, and that there was

no fixed end nor measure in its pursuit, he abated much of his

ambitious thoughts.  Nevertheless, he was always excessively

pleased with his own praise, and continued to the very last to

be passionately fond of glory; which often interfered with the

prosecution of his wisest resolutions.

On beginning to apply himself more resolutely to public

business, he remarked it as an unreasonable and absurd thing

that artificers, using vessels and instruments inanimate, should

know the name, place, and use of every one of them, and yet the

statesman, whose instruments for carrying out public measures

are men, should be negligent and careless in the knowledge of

persons.  And so he not only acquainted himself with the names,

but also knew the particular place where every one of the more

eminent citizens dwelt, what lands he possessed, the friends he

made use of, and those that were of his neighborhood, and when

he traveled on any road in Italy, he could readily name and show

the estates and seats of his friends and acquaintance.  Having

so small an estate, though a sufficient competency for his own

expenses, it was much wondered at that he took neither fees nor

gifts from his clients, and more especially, that he did not do

so when he undertook the prosecution of Verres.  This Verres,

who had been praetor of Sicily, and stood charged by the

Sicilians of many evil practices during his government there,

Cicero succeeded in getting condemned, not by speaking, but in a

manner by holding his tongue.  For the praetors, favoring

Verres, had deferred the trial by several adjournments to the

last day, in which it was evident there could not be sufficient

time for the advocates to be heard, and the cause brought to an

issue.  Cicero, therefore, came forward, and said there was no

need of speeches; and after producing and examining witnesses,

he required the judges to proceed to sentence.  However, many

witty sayings are on record, as having been used by Cicero on

the occasion.  When a man named Caecilius, one of the freed

slaves, who was said to be given to Jewish practices, would have

put by the Sicilians, and undertaken the prosecution of Verres

himself, Cicero asked, "What has a Jew to do with swine?"

verres being the Roman word for a boar.  And when Verres began

to reproach Cicero with effeminate living, "You ought," replied

he, "to use this language at home, to your sons;" Verres having

a son who had fallen into disgraceful courses.  Hortensius the

orator, not daring directly to undertake the defense of Verres,

was yet persuaded to appear for him at the laying on of the

fine, and received an ivory sphinx for his reward; and when

Cicero, in some passage of his speech, obliquely reflected on

him, and Hortensius told him he was not skillful in solving

riddles, "No," said Cicero, "and yet you have the Sphinx in your

house!"

Verres was thus convicted; though Cicero, who set the fine at

seventy-five myriads, lay under the suspicion of being

corrupted by bribery to lessen the sum.  But the Sicilians, in

testimony of their gratitude, came and brought him all sorts of

presents from the island, when he was aedile; of which he made

no private profit himself, but used their generosity only to

reduce the public price of provisions.

He had a very pleasant seat at Arpi, he had also a farm near

Naples, and another about Pompeii, but neither of any great

value.  The portion of his wife, Terentia, amounted to ten

myriads, and he had a bequest valued at nine myriads of denarii;

upon these he lived in a liberal but temperate style, with the

learned Greeks and Romans that were his familiars.  He rarely,

if at any time, sat down to meat till sunset, and that not so

much on account of business, as for his health and the weakness

of his stomach.  He was otherwise in the care of his body nice

and delicate, appointing himself, for example, a set number of

walks and rubbings.  And after this manner managing the habit

of his body, he brought it in time to be healthful, and capable

of supporting many great fatigues and trials.  His father's

house he made over to his brother, living himself near the

Palatine hill, that he might not give the trouble of long

journeys to those that made suit to him.  And, indeed, there

were not fewer daily appearing at his door, to do their court to

him, than there were that came to Crassus for his riches, or to

Pompey for his power amongst the soldiers, these being at that

time the two men of the greatest repute and influence in Rome.

Nay, even Pompey himself used to pay court to Cicero, and

Cicero's public actions did much to establish Pompey's authority

and reputation in the state.

Numerous distinguished competitors stood with him for the

praetor's office; but he was chosen before them all, and managed

the decision of causes with justice and integrity.  It is

related that Licinius Macer, a man himself of great power in the

city, and supported also by the assistance of Crassus, was

accused before him of extortion, and that, in confidence on his

own interest and the diligence of his friends, whilst the judges

were debating about the sentence, he went to his house, where

hastily trimming his hair and putting on a clean gown, as

already acquitted, he was setting off again to go to the Forum;

but at his hall door meeting Crassus, who told him that he was

condemned by all the votes, he went in again, threw himself upon

his bed, and died immediately.  This verdict was considered very

creditable to Cicero, as showing his careful management of the

courts of justice.  On another occasion, Vatinius, a man of rude

manners and often insolent in court to the magistrates, who had

large swellings on his neck, came before his tribunal and made

some request, and on Cicero's desiring further time to consider

it, told him that he himself would have made no question about

it, had he been praetor.  Cicero, turning quickly upon him,

answered, "But I, you see, have not the neck that you have."

When there were but two or three days remaining in his office,

Manilius was brought before him, and charged with peculation.

Manilius had the good opinion and favor of the common people,

and was thought to be prosecuted only for Pompey's sake, whose

particular friend he was.  And therefore, when he asked a space

of time before his trial, and Cicero allowed him but one day,

and that the next only, the common people grew highly offended,

because it had been the custom of the praetors to allow ten days

at least to the accused: and the tribunes of the people having

called him before the people, and accused him, he, desiring to

be heard, said, that as he had always treated the accused with

equity and humanity, as far as the law allowed, so he thought it

hard to deny the same to Manilius, and that he had studiously

appointed that day of which alone, as praetor, he was master,

and that it was not the part of those that were desirous to help

him, to cast the judgment of his cause upon another praetor.

These things being said made a wonderful change in the people,

and, commending him much for it, they desired that he himself

would undertake the defense of Manilius; which he willingly

consented to, and that principally for the sake of Pompey, who

was absent.  And, accordingly, taking his place before the

people again, he delivered a bold invective upon the

oligarchical party and on those who were jealous of Pompey.

Yet he was preferred to the consulship no less by the nobles

than the common people, for the good of the city; and both

parties jointly assisted his promotion, upon the following

reasons.  The change of government made by Sylla, which at first

seemed a senseless one, by time and usage had now come to be

considered by the people no unsatisfactory settlement.  But

there were some that endeavored to alter and subvert the whole

present state of affairs not from any good motives, but for

their own private gain; and Pompey being at this time employed

in the wars with the kings of Pontus and Armenia, there was no

sufficient force at Rome to suppress any attempts at a

revolution.  These people had for their head a man of bold,

daring, and restless character, Lucius Catiline, who was

accused, besides other great offenses, of deflowering his virgin

daughter, and killing his own brother; for which latter crime,

fearing to be prosecuted at law, he persuaded Sylla to set him

down, as though he were yet alive, amongst those that were to be

put to death by proscription.  This man the profligate citizens

choosing for their captain, gave faith to one another, amongst

other pledges, by sacrificing a man and eating of his flesh; and

a great part of the young men of the city were corrupted by him,

he providing for everyone pleasures, drink, and women, and

profusely supplying the expense of these debauches.  Etruria,

moreover, had all been excited to revolt, as well as a great

part of Gaul within the Alps.  But Rome itself was in the most

dangerous inclination to change, on account of the unequal

distribution of wealth and property, those of highest rank and

greatest spirit having impoverished themselves by shows,

entertainments, ambition of offices, and sumptuous buildings,

and the riches of the city having thus fallen into the hands of

mean and low-born persons.  So that there wanted but a slight

impetus to set all in motion, it being in the power of every

daring man to overturn a sickly commonwealth.

Catiline, however, being desirous of procuring a strong position

to carry out his designs, stood for the consulship, and had

great hopes of success, thinking he should be appointed, with

Caius Antonius as his colleague, who was a man fit to lead

neither in a good cause nor in a bad one, but might be a

valuable accession to another's power.  These things the

greatest part of the good and honest citizens apprehending, put

Cicero upon standing for the consulship; whom the people readily

receiving, Catiline was put by, so that he and Caius Antonius

were chosen, although amongst the competitors he was the only

man descended from a father of the equestrian, and not of the

senatorial order.

Though the designs of Catiline were not yet publicly known, yet

considerable preliminary troubles immediately followed upon

Cicero's entrance upon the consulship.  For, on the one side,

those who were disqualified by the laws of Sylla from holding

any public offices, being neither inconsiderable in power nor in

number, came forward as candidates and caressed the people for

them; speaking many things truly and justly against the tyranny

of Sylla, only that they disturbed the government at an improper

and unseasonable time; on the other hand, the tribunes of the

people proposed laws to the same purpose, constituting a

commission of ten persons, with unlimited powers, in whom as

supreme governors should be vested the right of selling the

public lands of all Italy and Syria and Pompey's new conquests,

of judging and banishing whom they pleased, of planting

colonies, of taking moneys out of the treasury, and of levying

and paying what soldiers should be thought needful.  And several

of the nobility favored this law, but especially Caius Antonius,

Cicero's colleague, in hopes of being one of the ten.  But what

gave the greatest fear to the nobles was, that he was thought

privy to the conspiracy of Catiline, and not to dislike it,

because of his great debts.

Cicero, endeavoring in the first place to provide a remedy

against this danger, procured a decree assigning to him the

province of Macedonia, he himself declining that of Gaul, which

was offered to him.  And this piece of favor so completely won

over Antonius, that he was ready to second and respond to, like

a hired player, whatever Cicero said for the good of the

country.  And now, having made his colleague thus tame and

tractable, he could with greater courage attack the

conspirators.  And, therefore, in the senate, making an oration

against the law of the ten commissioners, he so confounded those

who proposed it, that they had nothing to reply.  And when they

again endeavored, and, having prepared things beforehand, had

called the consuls before the assembly of the people, Cicero,

fearing nothing, went first out, and commanded the senate to

follow him, and not only succeeded in throwing out the law, but

so entirely overpowered the tribunes by his oratory, that they

abandoned all thought of their other projects.

For Cicero, it may be said, was the one man, above all others,

who made the Romans feel how great a charm eloquence lends to

what is good, and how invincible justice is, if it be well

spoken; and that it is necessary for him who would dexterously

govern a commonwealth, in action, always to prefer that which

is honest before that which is popular, and in speaking, to free

the right and useful measure from everything that may occasion

offense.  An incident occurred in the theater, during his

consulship, which showed what his speaking could do.  For

whereas formerly the knights of Rome were mingled in the theater

with the common people, and took their places amongst them as it

happened, Marcus Otho, when he was praetor, was the first who

distinguished them from the other citizens, and appointed them a

proper seat, which they still enjoy as their special place in

the theater.  This the common people took as an indignity done

to them, and, therefore, when Otho appeared in the theater, they

hissed him; the knights, on the contrary, received him with loud

clapping.  The people repeated and increased their hissing; the

knights continued their clapping.  Upon this, turning upon one

another, they broke out into insulting words, so that the

theater was in great disorder.  Cicero, being informed of it,

came himself to the theater, and summoning the people into the

temple of Bellona, he so effectually chid and chastised them for

it, that, again returning into the theater, they received Otho

with loud applause, contending with the knights who should give

him the greatest demonstrations of honor and respect.

The conspirators with Catiline, at first cowed and disheartened,

began presently to take courage again.  And assembling

themselves together, they exhorted one another boldly to

undertake the design before Pompey's return, who, as it was

said, was now on his march with his forces for Rome.  But the

old soldiers of Sylla were Catiline's chief stimulus to action.

They had been disbanded all about Italy, but the greatest number

and the fiercest of them lay scattered among the cities of

Etruria, entertaining themselves with dreams of new plunder and

rapine amongst the hoarded riches of Italy.  These, having for

their leader Manlius, who had served with distinction in the

wars under Sylla, joined themselves to Catiline, and came to

Rome to assist him with their suffrages at the election.  For he

again pretended to the consulship, having resolved to kill

Cicero in a tumult at the elections.  Also, the divine powers

seemed to give intimation of the coming troubles, by

earthquakes, thunderbolts, and strange appearances.  Nor was

human evidence wanting, certain enough in itself, though not

sufficient for the conviction of the noble and powerful

Catiline.  Therefore Cicero, deferring the day of election,

summoned Catiline into the senate, and questioned him as to the

charges made against him.  Catiline, believing there were many

in the senate desirous of change, and to give a specimen of

himself to the conspirators present, returned an audacious

answer, "What harm," said he, "when I see two bodies, the one

lean and consumptive with a head, the other great and strong

without one, if I put a head to that body which wants one?"

This covert representation of the senate and the people excited

yet greater apprehensions in Cicero.  He put on armor, and was

attended from his house by the noble citizens in a body; and a

number of the young men went with him into the Plain.  Here,

designedly letting his tunic slip partly off from his shoulders,

he showed his armor underneath, and discovered his danger to the

spectators; who, being much moved at it, gathered round about

him for his defense.  At length, Catiline was by a general

suffrage again put by, and Silanus and Murena chosen consuls.

Not long after this, Catiline's soldiers got together in a body

in Etruria, and began to form themselves into companies, the day

appointed for the design being near at hand.  About midnight,

some of the principal and most powerful citizens of Rome, Marcus

Crassus, Marcus Marcellus, and Scipio Metellus went to Cicero's

house, where, knocking at the gate, and calling up the porter,

they commended him to awake Cicero, and tell him they were

there.  The business was this: Crassus's porter after supper

had delivered to him letters brought by an unknown person.  Some

of them were directed to others, but one to Crassus, without a

name; this only Crassus read, which informed him that there was

a great slaughter intended by Catiline, and advised him to leave

the city.  The others he did not open, but went with them

immediately to Cicero, being affrighted at the danger, and to

free himself of the suspicion he lay under for his familiarity

with Catiline.  Cicero, considering the matter, summoned the

senate at break of day.  The letters he brought with him, and

delivered them to those to whom they were directed, commanding

them to read them publicly; they all alike contained an account

of the conspiracy.  And when Quintus Arrius, a man of praetorian

dignity, recounted to them, how soldiers were collecting in

companies in Etruria, and Manlius stated to be in motion with a

large force, hovering about those cities, in expectation of

intelligence from Rome, the senate made a decree, to place all

in the hands of the consuls, who should undertake the conduct of

everything, and do their best to save the state.  This was not

a common thing, but only done by the senate in case of imminent

danger.

After Cicero had received this power, he committed all affairs

outside to Quintus Metellus, but the management of the city he

kept in his own hands.  Such a numerous attendance guarded him

every day when he went abroad, that the greatest part of the

market-place was filled with his train when he entered it.

Catiline, impatient of further delay, resolved himself to break

forth and go to Manlius, but he commanded Marcius and Cethegus

to take their swords, and go early in the morning to Cicero's

gates, as if only intending to salute him, and then to fall upon

him and slay him.  This a noble lady, Fulvia, coming by night,

discovered to Cicero, bidding him beware of Cethegus and

Marcius.  They came by break of day, and being denied entrance,

made an outcry and disturbance at the gates, which excited all

the more suspicion.  But Cicero, going forth, summoned the

senate into the temple of Jupiter Stator, which stands at the

end of the Sacred Street, going up to the Palatine.  And when

Catiline with others of his party also came, as intending to

make his defense, none of the senators would sit by him, but all

of them left the bench where he had placed himself.  And when he

began to speak, they interrupted him with outcries.  At length

Cicero, standing up, commanded him to leave the city, for since

one governed the commonwealth with words, the other with arms,

it was necessary there should be a wall betwixt them.  Catiline,

therefore, immediately left the town, with three hundred armed

men; and assuming, as if he had been a magistrate, the rods,

axes, and military ensigns, he went to Manlius, and having got

together a body of near twenty thousand men, with these he

marched to the several cities, endeavoring to persuade or force

them to revolt.  So it being now come to open war, Antonius was

sent forth to fight him.

The remainder of those in the city whom he had corrupted,

Cornelius Lentulus kept together and encouraged.  He had the

surname Sura, and was a man of a noble family, but a dissolute

liver, who for his debauchery was formerly turned out of the

senate, and was now holding the office of praetor for the second

time, as the custom is with those who desire to regain the

dignity of senator.  It is said that he got the surname Sura

upon this occasion; being quaestor in the time of Sylla, he had

lavished away and consumed a great quantity of the public

moneys, at which Sylla being provoked, called him to give an

account in the senate; he appeared with great coolness and

contempt, and said he had no account to give, but they might

take this, holding up the calf of his leg, as boys do at ball,

when they have missed.  Upon which he was surnamed Sura, sura

being the Roman word for the calf of the leg.  Being at another

time prosecuted at law, and having bribed some of the judges, he

escaped only by two votes, and complained of the needless

expense he had gone to in paying for a second, as one would have

sufficed to acquit him.  This man, such in his own nature, and

now inflamed by Catiline, false prophets and fortune-tellers had

also corrupted with vain hopes, quoting to him fictitious verses

and oracles, and proving from the Sibylline prophecies that

there were three of the name Cornelius designed by fate to be

monarchs of Rome; two of whom, Cinna and Sylla, had already

fulfilled the decree, and that divine fortune was now advancing

with the gift of monarchy for the remaining third Cornelius; and

that therefore he ought by all means to accept it, and not lose

opportunity by delay, as Catiline had done.

Lentulus, therefore, designed no mean or trivial matter, for he

had resolved to kill the whole senate, and as many other

citizens as he could, to fire the city, and spare nobody, except

only Pompey's children, intending to seize and keep them as

pledges of his reconciliation with Pompey.  For there was then a

common and strong report that Pompey was on his way homeward

from his great expedition.  The night appointed for the design

was one of the Saturnalia; swords, flax, and sulfur they carried

and hid in the house of Cethegus; and providing one hundred men,

and dividing the city into as many parts, they had allotted to

every one singly his proper place, so that in a moment many

kindling the fire, the city might be in a flame all together.

Others were appointed to stop up the aqueducts, and to kill

those who should endeavor to carry water to put it out.  Whilst

these plans were preparing, it happened there were two

ambassadors from the Allobroges staying in Rome; a nation at

that time in a distressed condition, and very uneasy under the

Roman government.  These Lentulus and his party judging useful

instruments to move and seduce Gaul to revolt, admitted into the

conspiracy, and they gave them letters to their own magistrates,

and letters to Catiline; in those they promised liberty, in

these they exhorted Catiline to set all slaves free, and to

bring them along with him to Rome.  They sent also to accompany

them to Catiline, one Titus, a native of Croton, who was to

carry those letters to him.

These counsels of inconsidering men, who conversed together over

wine and with women, Cicero watched with sober industry and

forethought, and with most admirable sagacity, having several

emissaries abroad, who observed and traced with him all that was

done, and keeping also a secret correspondence with many who

pretended to join in the conspiracy.  He thus knew all the

discourse which passed betwixt them and the strangers; and lying

in wait for them by night, he took the Crotonian with his

letters, the ambassadors of the Allobroges acting secretly in

concert with him.

By break of day, he summoned the senate into the temple of

Concord, where he read the letters and examined the informers.

Junius Silanus further stated, that several persons had heard

Cethegus say, that three consuls and four praetors were to be

slain; Piso, also, a person of consular dignity, testified other

matters of the like nature; and Caius Sulpicius, one of the

praetors, being sent to Cethegus's house, found there a quantity

of darts and of armor, and a still greater number of swords and

daggers, all recently whetted.  At length, the senate decreeing

indemnity to the Crotonian upon his confession of the whole

matter, Lentulus was convicted, abjured his office (for he was

then praetor), and put off his robe edged with purple in the

senate, changing it for another garment more agreeable to his

present circumstances.  He, thereupon, with the rest of his

confederates present, was committed to the charge of the

praetors in free custody.

It being evening, and the common people in crowds expecting

without, Cicero went forth to them, and told them what was done,

and then, attended by them, went to the house of a friend and

near neighbor; for his own was taken up by the women, who were

celebrating with secret rites the feast of the goddess whom the

Romans call the Good, and the Greeks, the Women's goddess.  For

a sacrifice is annually performed to her in the consul's house,

either by his wife or mother, in the presence of the vestal

virgins.  And having got into his friend's house privately, a

few only being present, he began to deliberate how he should

treat these men.  The severest, and the only punishment fit for

such heinous crimes, he was somewhat shy and fearful of

inflicting, as well from the clemency of his nature, as also

lest he should be thought to exercise his authority too

insolently, and to treat too harshly men of the noblest birth

and most powerful friendships in the city; and yet, if he should

use them more mildly, he had a dreadful prospect of danger from

them.  For there was no likelihood, if they suffered less than

death, they would be reconciled, but rather, adding new rage to

their former wickedness, they would rush into every kind of

audacity, while he himself, whose character for courage already

did not stand very high with the multitude, would be thought

guilty of the greatest cowardice and want of manliness.

Whilst Cicero was doubting what course to take, a portent

happened to the women in their sacrificing.  For on the altar,

where the fire seemed wholly extinguished, a great and bright

flame issued forth from the ashes of the burnt wood; at which

others were affrighted, but the holy virgins called to Terentia,

Cicero's wife, and bade her haste to her husband, and command

him to execute what he had resolved for the good of his country,

for the goddess had sent a great light to the increase of his

safety and glory.  Terentia, therefore, as she was otherwise in

her own nature neither tender-hearted nor timorous, but a woman

eager for distinction (who, as Cicero himself says, would rather

thrust herself into his public affairs, than communicate her

domestic matters to him), told him these things, and excited him

against the conspirators.  So also did Quintus his brother, and

Publius Nigidius, one of his philosophical friends, whom he

often made use of in his greatest and most weighty affairs of

state.

The next day, a debate arising in the senate about the

punishment of the men, Silanus, being the first who was asked

his opinion, said, it was fit they should be all sent to the

prison, and there suffer the utmost penalty.  To him all

consented in order till it came to Caius Caesar, who was

afterwards dictator.  He was then but a young man, and only at

the outset of his career, but had already directed his hopes and

policy to that course by which he afterwards changed the Roman

state into a monarchy.  Of this others foresaw nothing; but

Cicero had seen reason for strong suspicion, though without

obtaining any sufficient means of proof.  And there were some

indeed that said that he was very near being discovered, and

only just escaped him; others are of opinion that Cicero

voluntarily overlooked and neglected the evidence against him,

for fear of his friends and power; for it was very evident to

everybody, that if Caesar was to be accused with the

conspirators, they were more likely to be saved with him, than

he to be punished with them.

When, therefore, it came to Caesar's turn to give his opinion,

he stood up and proposed that the conspirators should not be put

to death, but their estates confiscated, and their persons

confined in such cities in Italy as Cicero should approve, there

to be kept in custody till Catiline was conquered.  To this

sentence, as it was the most moderate, and he that delivered it

a most powerful speaker, Cicero himself gave no small weight,

for he stood up and, turning the scale on either side, spoke in

favor partly of the former, partly of Caesar's sentence.  And

all Cicero's friends, judging Caesar's sentence most expedient

for Cicero, because he would incur the less blame if the

conspirators were not put to death, chose rather the latter; so

that Silanus, also, changing his mind, retracted his opinion,

and said he had not declared for capital, but only the utmost

punishment, which to a Roman senator is imprisonment.  The first

man who spoke against Caesar's motion was Catulus Lutatius.

Cato followed, and so vehemently urged in his speech the strong

suspicion about Caesar himself, and so filled the senate with

anger and resolution, that a decree was passed for the execution

of the conspirators.  But Caesar opposed the confiscation of

their goods, not thinking it fair that those who had rejected

the mildest part of his sentence should avail themselves of the

severest.  And when many insisted upon it, he appealed to the

tribunes, but they would do nothing; till Cicero himself

yielding, remitted that part of the sentence.

After this, Cicero went out with the senate to the conspirators;

they were not all together in one place, but the several

praetors had them, some one, some another, in custody.  And

first he took Lentulus from the Palatine, and brought him by the

Sacred Street, through the middle of the marketplace, a circle

of the most eminent citizens encompassing and protecting him.

The people, affrighted at what was doing, passed along in

silence, especially the young men; as if, with fear and

trembling; they were undergoing a rite of initiation into some

ancient, sacred mysteries of aristocratic power.  Thus passing

from the market-place, and coming to the gaol, he delivered

Lentulus to the officer, and commanded him to execute him; and

after him Cethegus, and so all the rest in order, he brought and

delivered up to execution.  And when he saw many of the

conspirators in the market-place, still standing together in

companies, ignorant of what was done, and waiting for the night,

supposing the men were still alive and in a possibility of being

rescued, he called out in a loud voice, and said, "They did

live;" for so the Romans, to avoid inauspicious language, name

those that are dead.

It was now evening, when he returned from the market-place to

his own house, the citizens no longer attending him with

silence, nor in order, but receiving him, as he passed, with

acclamations and applauses, and saluting him as the savior and

founder of his country.  A bright light shone through the

streets from the lamps and torches set up at the doors, and the

women showed lights from the tops of the houses, to honor

Cicero, and to behold him returning home with a splendid train

of the most principal citizens; amongst whom were many who had

conducted great wars, celebrated triumphs, and added to the

possessions of the Roman empire, both by sea and land.  These,

as they passed along with him, acknowledged to one another, that

though the Roman people were indebted to several officers and

commanders of that age for riches, spoils, and power, yet to

Cicero alone they owed the safety and security of all these, for

delivering them from so great and imminent a danger.  For though

it might seem no wonderful thing to prevent the design, and

punish the conspirators, yet to defeat the greatest of all

conspiracies with so little disturbance, trouble, and commotion,

was very extraordinary.  For the greater part of those who had

flocked in to Catiline, as soon as they heard the fate of

Lentulus and Cethegus, left and forsook him, and he himself,

with his remaining forces, joining battle with Antonius, was

destroyed with his army.

And yet there were some who were very ready both to speak ill of

Cicero, and to do him hurt for these actions; and they had for

their leaders some of the magistrates of the ensuing year, as

Caesar, who was one of the praetors, and Metellus and Bestia,

the tribunes.  These, entering upon their office some few days

before Cicero's consulate expired, would not permit him to make

any address to the people, but, throwing the benches before the

Rostra, hindered his speaking, telling him he might, if he

pleased, make the oath of withdrawal from office, and then come

down again.  Cicero, accordingly, accepting the conditions, came

forward to make his withdrawal; and silence being made, he

recited his oath, not in the usual, but in a new and peculiar

form, namely, that he had saved his country, and preserved the

empire; the truth of which oath all the people confirmed with

theirs.  Caesar and the tribunes, all the more exasperated by

this, endeavored to create him further trouble, and for this

purpose proposed a law for calling Pompey home with his army, to

put an end to Cicero's usurpation.  But it was a very great

advantage for Cicero and the whole commonwealth that Cato was at

that time one of the tribunes.  For he, being of equal power

with the rest, and of greater reputation, could oppose their

designs.  He easily defeated their other projects, and, in an

oration to the people, so highly extolled Cicero's consulate,

that the greatest honors were decreed him, and he was publicly

declared the Father of his Country, which title he seems to have

obtained, the first man who did so, when Cato gave it him in

this address to the people.

At this time, therefore, his authority was very great in the

city; but he created himself much envy, and offended very many,

not by any evil action, but because he was always lauding and

magnifying himself.  For neither senate, nor assembly of the

people, nor court of judicature could meet, in which he was not

heard to talk of Catiline and Lentulus.  Indeed, he also filled

his books and writings with his own praises, to such an excess

as to render a style, in itself most pleasant and delightful,

nauseous and irksome to his hearers; this ungrateful humor, like

a disease, always cleaving to him.  Nevertheless, though he was

intemperately fond of his own glory, he was very free from

envying others, and was, on the contrary, most liberally profuse

in commending both the ancients and his contemporaries, as

anyone may see in his writings.  And many such sayings of his are

also remembered; as that he called Aristotle a river of flowing

gold, and said of Plato's Dialogues, that if Jupiter were to

speak, it would be in language like theirs.  He used to call

Theophrastus his special luxury.  And being asked which of

Demosthenes's orations he liked best, he answered, the longest.

And yet some affected imitators of Demosthenes have complained

of some words that occur in one of his letters, to the effect

that Demosthenes sometimes falls asleep in his speeches;

forgetting the many high encomiums he continually passes upon

him, and the compliment he paid him when he named the most

elaborate of all his orations, those he wrote against Antony,

Philippics.  And as for the eminent men of his own time, either

in eloquence or philosophy, there was not one of them whom he

did not, by writing or speaking favorably of him, render more

illustrious.  He obtained of Caesar, when in power, the Roman

citizenship for Cratippus, the Peripatetic, and got the court of

Areopagus, by public decree, to request his stay at Athens, for

the instruction of their youth, and the honor of their city.

There are letters extant from Cicero to Herodes, and others to

his son, in which he recommends the study of philosophy under

Cratippus.  There is one in which he blames Gorgias, the

rhetorician, for enticing his son into luxury and drinking, and,

therefore, forbids him his company.  And this, and one other to

Pelops, the Byzantine, are the only two of his Greek epistles

which seem to be written in anger.  In the first, he justly

reflects on Gorgias, if he were what he was thought to be, a

dissolute and profligate character; but in the other, he rather

meanly expostulates and complains with Pelops, for neglecting to

procure him a decree of certain honors from the Byzantines.

Another illustration of his love of praise is the way in which

sometimes, to make his orations more striking, he neglected

decorum and dignity.  When Munatius, who had escaped conviction

by his advocacy, immediately prosecuted his friend Sabinus, he

said in the warmth of his resentment, "Do you suppose you were

acquitted for your own meets, Munatius, and was it not that I so

darkened the case, that the court could not see your guilt?"

When from the Rostra he had made an eulogy on Marcus Crassus,

with much applause, and within a few days after again as

publicly reproached him, Crassus called to him, and said, "Did

not you yourself two days ago, in this same place, commend me?"

"Yes," said Cicero, "I exercised my eloquence in declaiming upon

a bad subject."  At another time, Crassus had said that no one

of his family had ever lived beyond sixty years of age, and

afterwards denied it, and asked, "What should put it into my

head to say so?"  "It was to gain the people's favor," answered

Cicero; "you knew how glad they would be to hear it."  When

Crassus expressed admiration of the Stoic doctrine, that the

good man is always rich, "Do you not mean," said Cicero, "their

doctrine that all things belong to the wise?"  Crassus being

generally accused of covetousness.  One of Crassus's sons, who

was thought so exceedingly like a man of the name of Axius as to

throw some suspicion on his mother's honor, made a successful

speech in the senate.  Cicero on being asked how he liked it,

replied with the Greek words, Axios Crassou.

When Crassus was about to go into Syria, he desired to leave

Cicero rather his friend than his enemy, and, therefore, one day

saluting him, told him he would come and sup with him, which the

other as courteously received.  Within a few days after, on some

of Cicero's acquaintances interceding for Vatinius, as desirous

of reconciliation and friendship, for he was then his enemy,

"What," he replied, "does Vatinius also wish to come and sup

with me?"  Such was his way with Crassus.  When Vatinius, who

had swellings in his neck, was pleading a cause, he called him

the tumid orator; and having been told by someone that Vatinius

was dead, on hearing presently after that he was alive, "May the

rascal perish," said he, "for his news not being true."

Upon Caesar's bringing forward a law for the division of the

lands in Campania amongst the soldiers, many in the senate

opposed it; amongst the rest, Lucius Gellius, one of the oldest

men in the house, said it should never pass whilst he lived.

"Let us postpone it," said Cicero, "Gellius does not ask us to

wait long."  There was a man of the name of Octavius, suspected

to be of African descent.  He once said, when Cicero was

pleading, that he could not hear him; "Yet there are holes,"

said Cicero, "in your ears."  When Metellus Nepos told him,

that he had ruined more as a witness, than he had saved as an

advocate, "I admit," said Cicero, "that I have more truth than

eloquence."  To a young man who was suspected of having given a

poisoned cake to his father, and who talked largely of the

invectives he meant to deliver against Cicero, "Better these,"

replied he, "than your cakes."  Publius Sextius, having amongst

others retained Cicero as his advocate in a certain cause, was

yet desirous to say all for himself, and would not allow anybody

to speak for him; when he was about to receive his acquittal

from the judges, and the ballots were passing, Cicero called to

him, "Make haste, Sextius, and use your time; tomorrow you will

be nobody."  He cited Publius Cotta to bear testimony in a

certain cause, one who affected to be thought a lawyer, though

ignorant and unlearned; to whom, when he had said, "I know

nothing of the matter," he answered, "You think, perhaps, we ask

you about a point of law."  To Metellus Nepos, who, in a dispute

between them, repeated several times, "Who was your father,

Cicero?"  he replied, "Your mother has made the answer to such a

question in your case more difficult;" Nepos's mother having

been of ill repute.  The son, also, was of a giddy, uncertain

temper.  At one time, he suddenly threw up his office of

tribune, and sailed off into Syria to Pompey; and immediately

after, with as little reason, came back again.  He gave his

tutor, Philagrus, a funeral with more than necessary attention,

and then set up the stone figure of a crow over his tomb.

"This," said Cicero, "is really appropriate; as he did not teach

you to speak, but to fly about."  When Marcus Appius, in the

opening of some speech in a court of justice, said that his

friend had desired him to employ industry, eloquence, and

fidelity in that cause, Cicero answered, "And how have you had

the heart not to accede to any one of his requests?"

To use this sharp raillery against opponents and antagonists in

judicial pleading seems allowable rhetoric.  But he excited much

ill feeling by his readiness to attack anyone for the sake of a

jest.  A few anecdotes of this kind may be added.  Marcus

Aquinius, who had two sons-in-law in exile, received from him

the name of king Adrastus. Lucius Cotta, an intemperate lover

of wine, was censor when Cicero stood for the consulship.

Cicero, being thirsty at the election, his friends stood round

about him while he was drinking.  "You have reason to be

afraid," he said, "lest the censor should be angry with me for

drinking water."  Meeting one day Voconius with his three very

ugly daughters, he quoted the verse,

He reared a race without Apollo's leave.

When Marcus Gellius, who was reputed the son of a slave, had

read several letters in the senate with a very shrill, and loud

voice, "Wonder not," said Cicero, "he comes of the criers."

When Faustus Sylla, the son of Sylla the dictator, who had,

during his dictatorship, by public bills proscribed and

condemned so many citizens, had so far wasted his estate, and

got into debt, that he was forced to publish his bills of sale,

Cicero told him that he liked these bills much better than those

of his father.  By this habit he made himself odious with many

people.

But Clodius's faction conspired against him upon the following

occasion.  Clodius was a member of a noble family, in the flower

of his youth, and of a bold and resolute temper.  He, being in

love with Pompeia, Caesar's wife, got privately into his house

in the dress and attire of a music-girl; the women being at that

time offering there the sacrifice which must not be seen by men,

and there was no man present.  Clodius, being a youth and

beardless, hoped to get to Pompeia among the women without being

taken notice of.  But coming into a great house by night, he

missed his way in the passages, and a servant belonging to

Aurelia, Caesar's mother, spying him wandering up and down,

inquired his name.  Thus being necessitated to speak, he told

her he was seeking for one of Pompeia's maids, Abra by name; and

she, perceiving it not to be a woman's voice, shrieked out, and

called in the women; who, shutting the gates, and searching

every place, at length found Clodius hidden in the chamber of

the maid with whom he had come in.  This matter being much

talked about, Caesar put away his wife, Pompeia, and Clodius was

prosecuted for profaning the holy rites.

Cicero was at this time his friend, for he had been useful

to him in the conspiracy of Catiline, as one of his forwardest

assistants and protectors.  But when Clodius rested his defense

upon this point, that he was not then at Rome, but at a distance

in the country, Cicero testified that he had come to his house

that day, and conversed with him on several matters; which thing

was indeed true, although Cicero was thought to testify it not

so much for the truth's sake as to preserve his quiet with

Terentia his wife.  For she bore a grudge against Clodius on

account of his sister Clodia's wishing, as it was alleged, to

marry Cicero, and having employed for this purpose the

intervention of Tullus, a very intimate friend of Cicero's; and

his frequent visits to Clodia, who lived in their neighborhood,

and the attentions he paid to her had excited Terentia's

suspicions, and, being a woman of a violent temper, and having

the ascendant over Cicero, she urged him on to taking a part

against Clodius, and delivering his testimony.  Many other good

and honest citizens also gave evidence against him, for

perjuries, disorders, bribing the people, and debauching women.

Lucullus proved, by his women-servants, that he had debauched

his youngest sister when she was Lucullus's wife; and there was

a general belief that he had done the same with his two other

sisters, Tertia, whom Marcius Rex, and Clodia, whom Metellus

Celer had married; the latter of whom was called Quadrantia,

because one of her lovers had deceived her with a purse of small

copper money instead of silver, the smallest copper coin being

called a quadrant.  Upon this sister's account, in particular,

Clodius's character was attacked.  Notwithstanding all this,

when the common people united against the accusers and witnesses

and the whole party, the judges were affrighted, and a guard was

placed about them for their defense; and most of them wrote

their sentences on the tablets in such a way, that they could

not well be read.  It was decided, however, that there was a

majority for his acquittal, and bribery was reported to have

been employed; in reference to which Catulus remarked, when he

next met the judges, "You were very right to ask for a guard, to

prevent your money being taken from you."  And when Clodius

upbraided Cicero that the judges had not believed his testimony,

"Yes," said he, "five and twenty of them trusted me, and

condemned you, and the other thirty did not trust you, for they

did not acquit you till they had got your money."

Caesar, though cited, did not give his testimony against

Clodius, and declared himself not convinced of his wife's

adultery, but that he had put her away because it was fit that

Caesar's house should not be only free of the evil fact, but of

the fame too.

Clodius, having escaped this danger, and having got himself

chosen one of the tribunes, immediately attacked Cicero, heaping

up all matters and inciting all persons against him.  The common

people he gained over with popular laws; to each of the consuls

he decreed large provinces, to Piso, Macedonia, and to Gabinius,

Syria; he made a strong party among the indigent citizens, to

support him in his proceedings, and had always a body of armed

slaves about him.  Of the three men then in greatest power,

Crassus was Cicero's open enemy, Pompey indifferently made

advances to both, and Caesar was going with an army into Gaul.

To him, though not his friend (what had occurred in the time of

the conspiracy having created suspicions between them), Cicero

applied, requesting an appointment as one of his lieutenants in

the province.  Caesar accepted him, and Clodius, perceiving that

Cicero would thus escape his tribunician authority, professed to

be inclinable to a reconciliation, laid the greatest fault upon

Terentia, made always a favorable mention of him, and addressed

him with kind expressions, as one who felt no hatred or

ill-will, but who merely wished to urge his complaints in a

moderate and friendly way.  By these artifices, he so freed

Cicero of all his fears, that he resigned his appointment to

Caesar, and betook himself again to political affairs.  At which

Caesar being exasperated, joined the party of Clodius against

him, and wholly alienated Pompey from him; he also himself

declared in a public assembly of the people, that he did not

think Lentulus and Cethegus, with their accomplices, were fairly

and legally put to death without being brought to trial.  And

this, indeed, was the crime charged upon Cicero, and this

impeachment he was summoned to answer.  And so, as an accused

man, and in danger for the result, he changes his dress, and

went round with his hair untrimmed, in the attire of a

suppliant, to beg the people's grace.  But Clodius met him in

every corner, having a band of abusive and daring fellows about

him, who derided Cicero for his change of dress and his

humiliation, and often, by throwing dirt and stones at him,

interrupted his supplication to the people.

However, first of all, almost the whole equestrian order changed

their dress with him, and no less than twenty thousand young

gentlemen followed him with their hair untrimmed, and

supplicating with him to the people.  And then the senate met,

to pass a decree that the people should change their dress as in

time of public sorrow.  But the consuls opposing it, and Clodius

with armed men besetting the senate-house, many of the senators

ran out, crying out and tearing their clothes.  But this sight

moved neither shame nor pity; Cicero must either fly or

determine it by the sword with Clodius.  He entreated Pompey to

aid him, who was on purpose gone out of the way, and was staying

at his country-house in the Alban hills; and first he sent his

son-in-law Piso to intercede with him, and afterwards set out to

go himself.  Of which Pompey being informed, would not stay to

see him, being ashamed at the remembrance of the many conflicts

in the commonwealth which Cicero had undergone in his behalf,

and how much of his policy he had directed for his advantage.

But being now Caesar's son-in-law, at his instance he had set

aside all former kindness, and, slipping out at another door,

avoided the interview.  Thus being forsaken by Pompey, and left

alone to himself, he fled to the consuls.  Gabinius was rough

with him, as usual, but Piso spoke more courteously, desiring

him to yield and give place for a while to the fury of Clodius,

and to await a change of times, and to be now, as before, his

country's savior from the peril of these troubles and commotions

which Clodius was exciting.

Cicero, receiving this answer, consulted with his friends.

Lucullus advised him to stay, as being sure to prevail at last;

others to fly, because the people would soon desire him again,

when they should have enough of the rage and madness of Clodius.

This last Cicero approved.  But first he took a statue of

Minerva, which had been long set up and greatly honored in his

house, and carrying it to the capitol, there dedicated it, with

the inscription, "To Minerva, Patroness of Rome."  And receiving

an escort from his friends, about the middle of the night he

left the city, and went by land through Lucania, intending to

reach Sicily.

But as soon as it was publicly known that he was fled, Clodius

proposed to the people a decree of exile, and by his own order

interdicted him fire and water, prohibiting any within five

hundred miles in Italy to receive him into their houses.  Most

people, out of respect for Cicero, paid no regard to this edict,

offering him every attention and escorting him on his way.  But

at Hipponium, a city of Lucania, now called Vibo, one Vibius, a

Sicilian by birth, who, amongst many other instances of Cicero's

friendship, had been made head of the state engineers when he

was consul, would not receive him into his house, sending him

word he would appoint a place in the country for his reception.

Caius Vergilius, the praetor of Sicily, who had been on the most

intimate terms with him, wrote to him to forbear coming into

Sicily.  At these things Cicero being disheartened, went to

Brundusium, whence putting forth with a prosperous wind, a

contrary gale blowing from the sea carried him back to Italy-

the next day.  He put again to sea, and having reached

Dyrrachium, on his coming to shore there, it is reported that an

earthquake and a convulsion in the sea happened at the same

time, signs which the diviners said intimated that his exile

would not be long, for these were prognostics of change.

Although many visited him with respect, and the cities of Greece

contended which should honor him most, he yet continued

disheartened and disconsolate, like an unfortunate lover, often

casting his looks back upon Italy; and, indeed, he was become so

poor-spirited, so humiliated and dejected by his misfortunes,

as none could have expected in a man who had devoted so much of

his life to study and learning.  And yet he often desired his

friends not to call him orator, but philosopher, because he had

made philosophy his business, and had only used rhetoric as an

instrument for attaining his objects in public life.  But the

desire of glory has great power in washing the tinctures of

philosophy out of the souls of men, and in imprinting the

passions of the common people, by custom and conversation, in

the minds of those that take a part in governing them, unless

the politician be very careful so to engage in public affairs as

to interest himself only in the affairs themselves, but not

participate in the passions that are consequent to them.

Clodius, having thus driven away Cicero, fell to burning his

farms and villas, and afterwards his city house, and built on

the site of it a temple to Liberty.  The rest of his property he

exposed to sale by daily proclamation, but nobody came to buy.

By these courses he became formidable to the noble citizens,

and, being followed by the commonalty, whom he had filled with

insolence and licentiousness, he began at last to try his

strength against Pompey, some of whose arrangements in the

countries he conquered, he attacked.  The disgrace of this made

Pompey begin to reproach himself for his cowardice in deserting

Cicero, and, changing his mind, he now wholly set himself with

his friends to contrive his return.  And when Clodius opposed

it, the senate made a vote that no public measure should be

ratified or passed by them till Cicero was recalled.  But when

Lentulus was consul, the commotions grew so high upon this

matter, that the tribunes were wounded in the Forum, and

Quintus, Cicero's brother, was left as dead, lying unobserved

amongst the slain.  The people began to change in their

feelings; and Annius Milo, one of their tribunes, was the first

who took confidence to summon Clodius to trial for acts of

violence.  Many of the common people and out of the neighboring

cities formed a party with Pompey, and he went with them, and

drove Clodius out of the Forum, and summoned the people to pass

their vote.  And, it is said, the people never passed any

suffrage more unanimously than this.  The senate, also, striving

to outdo the people, sent letters of thanks to those cities

which had received Cicero with respect in his exile, and decreed

that his house and his country-places, which Clodius had

destroyed, should be rebuilt at the public charge.

Thus Cicero returned sixteen months after his exile, and the

cities were so glad, and people so zealous to meet him, that

what he boasted of afterwards, that Italy had brought him on her

shoulders home to Rome, was rather less than the truth.  And

Crassus himself, who had been his enemy before his exile, went

then voluntarily to meet him, and was reconciled, to please his

son Publius, as he said, who was Cicero's affectionate admirer.

Cicero had not been long at Rome, when, taking the opportunity

of Clodius's absence, he went, with a great company, to the

capitol, and there tore and defaced the tribunician tables, in

which were recorded the acts done in the time of Clodius.  And

on Clodius calling him in question for this, he answered, that

he, being of the patrician order, had obtained the office of

tribune against law, and, therefore, nothing done by him was

valid.  Cato was displeased at this, and opposed Cicero, not

that he commended Clodius, but rather disapproved of his whole

administration; yet, he contended, it was an irregular and

violent course for the senate to vote the illegality of so many

decrees and acts, including those of Cato's own government in

Cyprus and at Byzantium.  This occasioned a breach between Cato

and Cicero, which, though it came not to open enmity, yet made a

more reserved friendship between them.

After this, Milo killed Clodius, and, being arraigned for the

murder, he procured Cicero as his advocate.  The senate, fearing

lest the questioning of so eminent and high-spirited a citizen

as Milo might disturb the peace of the city, committed the

superintendence of this and of the other trials to Pompey, who

should undertake to maintain the security alike of the city and

of the courts of justice.  Pompey, therefore, went in the night,

and occupying the high grounds about it, surrounded the Forum

with soldiers.  Milo, fearing lest Cicero, being disturbed by

such an unusual sight, should conduct his cause the less

successfully, persuaded him to come in a litter into the Forum,

and there repose himself till the judges were set, and the court

filled.  For Cicero, it seems, not only wanted courage in arms,

but, in his speaking also, began with timidity, and in many

cases scarcely left off trembling and shaking when he had got

thoroughly into the current and the substance of his speech.

Being to defend Licinius Murena against the prosecution of Cato,

and being eager to outdo Hortensius, who had made his plea with

great applause, he took so little rest that night, and was so

disordered with thought and over-watching, that he spoke much

worse than usual.  And so now, on quitting his litter to

commence the cause of Milo, at the sight of Pompey, posted, as

it were, and encamped with his troops above, and seeing arms

shining round about the Forum, he was so confounded, that he

could hardly begin his speech, for the trembling of his body,

and hesitance of his tongue; whereas Milo, meantime, was bold

and intrepid in his demeanor, disdaining either to let his hair

grow, or to put on the mourning habit.  And this, indeed, seems

to have been one principal cause of his condemnation.  Cicero,

however, was thought not so much to have shown timidity for

himself, as anxiety about his friend.

He was made one of the priests, whom the Romans call Augurs, in

the room of Crassus the younger, dead in Parthia.  Then he was

appointed, by lot, to the province of Cilicia, and set sail

thither with twelve thousand foot and two thousand six hundred

horse.  He had orders to bring back Cappadocia to its allegiance

to Ariobarzanes, its king; which settlement he effected very

completely without recourse to arms.  And perceiving the

Cilicians, by the great loss the Romans had suffered in Parthia,

and the commotions in Syria, to have become disposed to attempt

a revolt, by a gentle course of government he soothed them back

into fidelity.  He would accept none of the presents that were

offered him by the kings; he remitted the charge of public

entertainments, but daily, at his own house, received the

ingenious and accomplished persons of the province, not

sumptuously, but liberally.  His house had no porter, nor was he

ever found in bed by any man, but early in the morning, standing

or walking before his door, he received those who came to offer

their salutations.  He is said never once to have ordered any of

those under his command to be beaten with rods, or to have their

garments rent.  He never gave contumelious language in his

anger, nor inflicted punishment with reproach.  He detected an

embezzlement, to a large amount, in the public money, and thus

relieved the cities from their burdens, at the same time that he

allowed those who made restitution, to retain without further

punishment their rights as citizens.  He engaged too, in war, so

far as to give a defeat to the banditti who infested Mount

Amanus, for which he was saluted by his army Imperator.  To

Caecilius, the orator, who asked him to send him some panthers

from Cilicia, to be exhibited on the theater at Rome, he wrote,

in commendation of his own actions, that there were no panthers

in Cilicia, for they were all fled to Caria, in anger that in so

general a peace they had become the sole objects of attack.  On

leaving his province, he touched at Rhodes, and tarried for some

length of time at Athens, longing much to renew his old studies.

He visited the eminent men of learning, and saw his former

friends and companions; and after receiving in Greece the honors

that were due to him, returned to the city, where everything

was now just as it were in a flame, breaking out into a civil

war.

When the senate would have decreed him a triumph, he told them

he had rather, so differences were accommodated, follow the

triumphal chariot of Caesar.  In private, he gave advice to

both, writing many letters to Caesar, and personally entreating

Pompey; doing his best to soothe and bring to reason both the

one and the other.  But when matters became incurable, and

Caesar was approaching Rome, and Pompey durst not abide it, but,

with many honest citizens, left the city, Cicero, as yet, did

not join in the flight, and was reputed to adhere to Caesar.

And it is very evident he was in his thoughts much divided, and

wavered painfully between both, for he writes in his epistles,

"To which side should I turn?  Pompey has the fair and honorable

plea for war; and Caesar, on the other hand, has managed his

affairs better, and is more able to secure himself and his

friends.  So that I know whom I should fly, not whom I should

fly to."  But when Trebatius, one of Caesar's friends, by letter

signified to him that Caesar thought it was his most desirable

course to join his party, and partake his hopes, but if he

considered himself too old a man for this, then he should retire

into Greece, and stay quietly there, out of the way of either

party, Cicero, wondering that Caesar had not written himself,

gave an angry reply, that he should not do anything unbecoming

his past life.  Such is the account to be collected from his

letters.

But as soon as Caesar was marched into Spain, he immediately

sailed away to join Pompey.  And he was welcomed by all but

Cato; who, taking him privately, chid him for coming to Pompey.

As for himself, he said, it had been indecent to forsake that

part in the commonwealth which he had chosen from the beginning;

but Cicero might have been more useful to his country and

friends, if, remaining neuter, he had attended and used his

influence to moderate the result, instead of coming hither to

make himself, without reason or necessity, an enemy to Caesar,

and a partner in such great dangers.  By this language, partly,

Cicero's feelings were altered, and partly, also, because Pompey

made no great use of him.  Although, indeed, he was himself the

cause of it, by his not denying that he was sorry he had come,

by his depreciating Pompey's resources, finding fault underhand

with his counsels, and continually indulging in jests and

sarcastic remarks on his fellow-soldiers.  Though he went about

in the camp with a gloomy and melancholy face himself, he was

always trying to raise a laugh in others, whether they wished it

or not.  It may not be amiss to mention a few instances.  To

Domitius, on his preferring to a command one who was no soldier,

and saying, in his defense, that he was a modest and prudent

person, he replied, "Why did not you keep him for a tutor for

your children?"  On hearing Theophanes, the Lesbian, who was

master of the engineers in the army, praised for the admirable

way in which he had consoled the Rhodians for the loss of their

fleet, "What a thing it is," he said, "to have a Greek in

command!"  When Caesar had been acting successfully, and in a

manner blockading Pompey, Lentulus was saying it was reported

that Caesar's friends were out of heart; "Because," said Cicero,

"they do not wish Caesar well."  To one Marcius, who had just

come from Italy, and told them that there was a strong report at

Rome that Pompey was blocked up, he said, "And you sailed hither

to see it with your own eyes."  To Nonius, encouraging them

after a defeat to be of good hope, because there were seven

eagles still left in Pompey's camp, "Good reason for

encouragement," said Cicero, "if we were going to fight with

jack-daws."  Labienus insisted on some prophecies to the effect

that Pompey would gain the victory; "Yes," said Cicero, "and the

first step in the campaign has been losing our camp."

After the battle of Pharsalia was over, at which he was not

present for want of health, and Pompey was fled, Cato, having

considerable forces and a great fleet at Dyrrachium, would have

had Cicero commander-in-chief, according to law, and the

precedence of his consular dignity.  And on his refusing the

command, and wholly declining to take part in their plans for

continuing the war, he was in the greatest danger of being

killed, young Pompey and his friends calling him traitor, and

drawing their swords upon him; only that Cato interposed, and

hardly rescued and brought him out of the camp.

Afterwards, arriving at Brundusium, he tarried there sometime in

expectation of Caesar, who was delayed by his affairs in Asia

and Egypt.  And when it was told him that he was arrived at

Tarentum, and was coming thence by land to Brundusium, he

hastened towards him, not altogether without hope, and yet in

some fear of making experiment of the temper of an enemy and

conqueror in the presence of many witnesses.  But there was no

necessity for him either to speak or do anything unworthy of

himself; for Caesar, as soon as he saw him coming a good way

before the rest of the company, came down to meet him, saluted

him, and, leading the way, conversed with him alone for some

furlongs.  And from that time forward he continued to treat him

with honor and respect; so that, when Cicero wrote an oration in

praise of Cato, Caesar, in writing an answer to it, took

occasion to commend Cicero's own life and eloquence, comparing

him to Pericles and Theramenes.  Cicero's oration was called

Cato; Caesar's, anti-Cato.

So also, it is related that when Quintus Ligarius was prosecuted

for having been in arms against Caesar, and Cicero had

undertaken his defense, Caesar said to his friends, "Why might

we not as well once more hear a speech from Cicero?  Ligarius,

there is no question, is a wicked man and an enemy."  But when

Cicero began to speak, he wonderfully moved him, and proceeded

in his speech with such varied pathos, and such a charm of

language, that the color of Caesar's countenance often changed,

and it was evident that all the passions of his soul were in

commotion.  At length, the orator touching upon the Pharsalian

battle, he was so affected that his body trembled, and some of

the papers he held dropped out of his hands.  And thus he was

overpowered, and acquitted Ligarius.

Henceforth, the commonwealth being changed into a monarchy,

Cicero withdrew himself from public affairs, and employed his

leisure in instructing those young men that would, in

philosophy; and by the near intercourse he thus had with some of

the noblest and highest in rank, he again began to possess great

influence in the city.  The work and object which he set himself

was to compose and translate philosophical dialogues and to

render logical and physical terms into the Roman idiom.  For he

it was, as it is said, who first or principally gave Latin names

to phantasia, syncatathesis, epokhe, catalepsis, atomon,

ameres, kenon, and other such technical terms, which, either by

metaphors or other means of accommodation, he succeeded in

making intelligible and expressible to the Romans.  For his

recreation, he exercised his dexterity in poetry, and when he

was set to it, would make five hundred verses in a night.  He

spent the greatest part of his time at his country-house near

Tusculum.  He wrote to his friends that he led the life of

Laertes, either jestingly, as his custom was, or rather from a

feeling of ambition for public employment, which made him

impatient under the present state of affairs.  He rarely went to

the city, unless to pay his court to Caesar.  He was commonly

the first amongst those who voted him honors, and sought out new

terms of praise for himself and for his actions.  As, for

example, what he said of the statues of Pompey, which had been

thrown down, and were afterwards by Caesar's orders set up

again: that Caesar, by this act of humanity, had indeed set up

Pompey's statues, but he had fixed and established his own.

He had a design, it is said, of writing the history of his

country, combining with it much of that of Greece, and

incorporating in it all the stories and legends of the past that

he had collected.  But his purposes were interfered with by

various public and various private unhappy occurrences and

misfortunes; for most of which he was himself in fault.  For

first of all, he put away his wife Terentia, by whom he had been

neglected in the time of the war, and sent away destitute of

necessaries for his journey; neither did he find her kind when

he returned into Italy, for she did not join him at Brundusium,

where he stayed a long time, nor would allow her young daughter,

who undertook so long a journey, decent attendance, or the

requisite expenses; besides, she left him a naked and empty

house, and yet had involved him in many and great debts.  These

were alleged as the fairest reasons for the divorce.  But

Terentia, who denied them all, had the most unmistakable defense

furnished her by her husband himself, who not long after married

a young maiden for the love of her beauty, as Terentia upbraided

him; or as Tiro, his emancipated slave, has written, for her

riches, to discharge his debts.  For the young woman was very

rich, and Cicero had the custody of her estate, being left

guardian in trust; and being indebted many myriads of money, he

was persuaded by his friends and relations to marry her,

notwithstanding his disparity of age, and to use her money to

satisfy his creditors.  Antony, who mentions this marriage in

his answer to the Philippics, reproaches him for putting away a

wife with whom he had lived to old age; adding some happy

strokes of sarcasm on Cicero's domestic, inactive,

unsoldier-like habits.  Not long after this marriage, his

daughter died in child-bed at Lentulus's house, to whom she had

been married after the death of Piso, her former husband.  The

philosophers from all parts came to comfort Cicero; for his

grief was so excessive, that he put away his new-married wife,

because she seemed to be pleased at the death of Tullia.  And

thus stood Cicero's domestic affairs at this time.

He had no concern in the design that was now forming against

Caesar, although, in general, he was Brutus's most principal

confidant, and one who was as aggrieved at the present, and as

desirous of the former state of public affairs, as any other

whatsoever.  But they feared his temper, as wanting courage, and

his old age, in which the most daring dispositions are apt to

be timorous.

As soon, therefore, as the act was committed by Brutus and

Cassius, and the friends of Caesar were got together, so that

there was fear the city would again be involved in a civil war,

Antony, being consul, convened the senate, and made a short

address recommending concord.  And Cicero, following with

various remarks such as the occasion called for, persuaded the

senate to imitate the Athenians, and decree an amnesty for what

had been done in Caesar's case, and to bestow provinces on

Brutus and Cassius.  But neither of these things took effect.  For

as soon as the common people, of themselves inclined to pity,

saw the dead body of Caesar borne through the marketplace, and

Antony showing his clothes filled with blood, and pierced

through in every part with swords, enraged to a degree of

frenzy, they made a search for the murderers, and with

firebrands in their hands ran to their houses to burn them.

They, however, being forewarned, avoided this danger; and

expecting many more and greater to come, they left the city.

Antony on this was at once in exultation, and everyone was in

alarm with the prospect that he would make himself sole ruler,

and Cicero in more alarm than anyone.  For Antony, seeing his

influence reviving in the commonwealth, and knowing how closely

he was connected with Brutus, was ill-pleased to have him in the

city.  Besides, there had been some former jealousy between

them, occasioned by the difference of their manners.  Cicero,

fearing the event, was inclined to go as lieutenant with

Dolabella into Syria.  But Hirtius and Pansa, consuls elect as

successors of Antony, good men and lovers of Cicero, entreated

him not to leave them, undertaking to put down Antony if he

would stay in Rome.  And he, neither distrusting wholly, nor

trusting them, let Dolabella go without him, promising Hirtius

that he would go and spend his summer at Athens, and return

again when he entered upon his office.  So he set out on his

journey; but some delay occurring in his passage, new

intelligence, as often happens, came suddenly from Rome, that

Antony had made an astonishing change, and was doing all things

and managing all public affairs at the will of the senate, and

that there wanted nothing but his presence to bring things to a

happy settlement.  And therefore, blaming himself for his

cowardice, he returned again to Rome, and was not deceived in

his hopes at the beginning.  For such multitudes flocked out to

meet him, that the compliments and civilities which were paid

him at the gates, and at his entrance into the city, took up

almost one whole day's time.

On the morrow, Antony convened the senate, and summoned Cicero

thither.  He came not, but kept is bed, pretending to be ill

with his journey; but the true reason seemed the fear of some

design against him, upon a suspicion and intimation given him on

his way to Rome.  Antony, however, showed great offense at the

affront, and sent soldiers, commanding them to bring him or burn

his house; but many interceding and supplicating for him, he was

contented to accept sureties.  Ever after, when they met, they

passed one another with silence, and continued on their guard,

till Caesar, the younger, coming from Apollonia, entered on the

first Caesar's inheritance, and was engaged in a dispute with

Antony about two thousand five hundred myriads of money, which

Antony detained from the estate.

Upon this, Philippus, who married the mother, and Marcellus, who

married the sister of young Caesar, came with the young man to

Cicero, and agreed with him that Cicero should give them the aid

of his eloquence and political influence with the senate and

people, and Caesar give Cicero the defense of his riches and

arms.  For the young man had already a great party of the

soldiers of Caesar about him.  And Cicero's readiness to join

him was founded, it is said, on some yet stronger motives; for

it seems, while Pompey and Caesar were yet alive, Cicero, in his

sleep, had fancied himself engaged in calling some of the sons

of the senators into the capitol, Jupiter being about, according

to the dream, to declare one of them the chief ruler of Rome.

The citizens, running up with curiosity, stood about the temple,

and the youths, sitting in their purple-bordered robes, kept

silence.  On a sudden the doors opened, and the youths, arising

one by one in order, passed round the god, who reviewed them all,

and, to their sorrow, dismissed them; but when this one was

passing by, the god stretched forth his right hand and said, "O

ye Romans, this young man, when he shall be lord of Rome, shall

put an end to all your civil wars."  It is said that Cicero

formed from his dream a distinct image of the youth, and

retained it afterwards perfectly, but did not know who it was.

The next day, going down into the Campus Martius, he met the

boys resuming from their gymnastic exercises, and the first was

he, just as he had appeared to him in his dream.  Being

astonished at it, he asked him who were his parents.  And it

proved to be this young Caesar, whose father was a man of no

great eminence, Octavius, and his mother, Attia, Caesar's

sister's daughter; for which reason, Caesar, who had no

children, made him by will the heir of his house and property.

From that time, it is said that Cicero studiously noticed the

youth whenever he met him, and he as kindly received the

civility; and by fortune he happened to be born when Cicero was

consul.

These were the reasons spoken of; but it was principally

Cicero's hatred of Antony, and a temper unable to resist honor,

which fastened him to Caesar, with the purpose of getting the

support of Caesar's power for his own public designs.  For the

young man went so far in his court to him, that he called him

Father; at which Brutus was so highly displeased, that, in his

epistles to Atticus he reflected on Cicero saying, it was

manifest, by his courting Caesar for fear of Antony, he did not

intend liberty to his country, but an indulgent master to

himself.  Notwithstanding, Brutus took Cicero's son, then

studying philosophy at Athens, gave him a command, and employed

him in various ways, with a good result.  Cicero's own power at

this time was at the greatest height in the city, and he did

whatsoever he pleased; he completely overpowered and drove out

Antony, and sent the two consuls, Hirtius and Pansa, with an

army, to reduce him; and, on the other hand, persuaded the

senate to allow Caesar the lictors and ensigns of a praetor, as

though he were his country's defender.  But after Antony was

defeated in battle, and the two consuls slain, the armies

united, and ranged themselves with Caesar.  And the senate,

fearing the young man, and his extraordinary fortune,

endeavored, by honors and gifts, to call off the soldiers from

him, and to lessen his power; professing there was no further

need of arms, now Antony was put to flight.

This giving Caesar an affright, he privately sends some friends

to entreat and persuade Cicero to procure the consular dignity

for them both together; saying he should manage the affairs as

he pleased, should have the supreme power, and govern the young

man who was only desirous of name and glory.  And Caesar himself

confessed, that in fear of ruin, and in danger of being

deserted, he had seasonably made use of Cicero's ambition,

persuading him to stand with him, and to accept the offer of his

aid and interest for the consulship.

And now, more than at any other time, Cicero let himself be

carried away and deceived, though an old man, by the persuasions

of a boy.  He joined him in soliciting votes, and procured the

good-will of the senate, not without blame at the time on the

part of his friends; and he, too, soon enough after, saw that he

had ruined himself, and betrayed the liberty of his country.

For the young man, once established, and possessed of the office

of consul, bade Cicero farewell; and, reconciling himself to

Antony and Lepidus, joined his power with theirs, and divided

the government, like a piece of property, with them.  Thus

united, they made a schedule of above two hundred persons who

were to be put to death.  But the greatest contention in all

their debates was on the question of Cicero's case.  Antony

would come to no conditions, unless he should be the first man

to be killed.  Lepidus held with Antony, and Caesar opposed them

both.  They met secretly and by themselves, for three days

together, near the town of Bononia.  The spot was not far from

the camp, with a river surrounding it.  Caesar, it is said,

contended earnestly for Cicero the first two days; but on the

third day he yielded, and gave him up.

The terms of their mutual concessions were these; that Caesar

should desert Cicero, Lepidus his brother Paulus, and Antony,

Lucius Caesar, his uncle by his mother's side.  Thus they let

their anger and fury take from them the sense of humanity, and

demonstrated that no beast is more savage than man, when

possessed with power answerable to his rage.

Whilst these things were contriving, Cicero was with his brother

at his country-house near Tusculum; whence, hearing of the

proscriptions, they determined to pass to Astura, a villa of

Cicero's near the sea, and to take shipping from thence for

Macedonia to Brutus, of whose strength in that province news had

already been heard.  They traveled together in their separate

litters, overwhelmed with sorrow; and often stopping on the way

till their litters came together, condoled with one another.

But Quintus was the more disheartened, when he reflected on his

want of means for his journey; for, as he said, he had brought

nothing with him from home.  And even Cicero himself had but a

slender provision.  It was judged, therefore, most expedient

that Cicero should make what haste he could to fly, and Quintus

return home to provide necessaries, and thus resolved, they

mutually embraced, and parted with many tears.

Quintus, within a few days after, betrayed by his servants to

those who came to search for him, was slain, together with his

young son.  But Cicero was carried to Astura, where, finding a

vessel, he immediately went on board her, and sailed as far as

Circaeum with a prosperous gale; but when the pilots resolved

immediately to set sail from thence, whether fearing the sea, or

not wholly distrusting the faith of Caesar, he went on shore,

and passed by land a hundred furlongs, as if he was going for

Rome.  But losing resolution and changing his mind, he again

returned to the sea, and there spent the night in fearful and

perplexed thoughts.  Sometimes he resolved to go into Caesar's

house privately, and there kill himself upon the altar of his

household gods, to bring divine vengeance upon him; but the fear

of torture put him off this course.  And after passing through a

variety of confused and uncertain counsels, at last he let his

servants carry him by sea to Capitae, where he had a house, an

agreeable place to retire to in the heat of summer, when the

Etesian winds are so pleasant.

There was at that place a chapel of Apollo, not far from the

sea-side, from which a flight of crows rose with a great noise,

and made towards Cicero's vessel as it rowed to land, and

lighting on both sides of the yard, some croaked, others pecked

the ends of the ropes.  This was looked upon by all as an ill

omen; and, therefore, Cicero went again ashore, and entering his

house, lay down upon his bed to compose himself to rest.  Many

of the crows settled about the window, making a dismal cawing;

but one of them alighted upon the bed where Cicero lay covered

up, and with its bill by little and little pecked off the

clothes from his face.  His servants, seeing this, blamed

themselves that they should stay to be spectators of their

master's murder, and do nothing in his defense, whilst the brute

creatures came to assist and take care of him in his undeserved

affliction; and, therefore, partly by entreaty, partly by force,

they took him up, and carried him in his litter towards the

sea-side.

But in the meantime the assassins were come with a band of

soldiers, Herennius, a centurion, and Popillius, a tribune, whom

Cicero had formerly defended when prosecuted for the murder of

his father.  Finding the doors shut, they broke them open, and

Cicero not appearing and those within saying they knew not

where he was, it is stated that a youth, who had been educated

by Cicero in the liberal arts and sciences, an emancipated slave

of his brother Quintus, Philologus by name, informed the tribune

that the litter was on its way to the sea through the close and

shady walks.  The tribune, taking a few with him, ran to the

place where he was to come out.  And Cicero, perceiving

Herennius running in the walks, commanded his servants to set

down the litter; and stroking his chin, as he used to do, with

his left hand, he looked steadfastly upon his murderers, his

person covered with dust, his beard and hair untrimmed, and his

face worn with his troubles.  So that the greatest part of those

that stood by covered their faces whilst Herennius slew him.

And thus was he murdered, stretching forth his neck out of the

litter, being now in his sixty-fourth year.  Herennius cut off

his head, and, by Antony's command, his hands also, by which his

Philippics were written; for so Cicero styled those orations he

wrote against Antony, and so they are called to this day.

When these members of Cicero were brought to Rome, Antony was

holding an assembly for the choice of public officers; and when

he heard it, and saw them, he cried out, "Now let there be an

end of our proscriptions."  He commanded his head and hands to

be fastened up over the Rostra, where the orators spoke; a sight

which the Roman people shuddered to behold, and they believed

they saw there not the face of Cicero, but the image of Antony's

own soul.  And yet amidst these actions he did justice in one

thing, by delivering up Philologus to Pomponia, the wife of

Quintus; who, having got his body into her power, besides other

grievous punishments, made him cut off his own flesh by pieces,

and roast and eat it; for so some writers have related.  But

Tiro, Cicero's emancipated slave, has not so much as mentioned

the treachery of Philologus.

Some long time after, Caesar, I have been told, visiting one of

his daughter's sons, found him with a book of Cicero's in his

hand.  The boy for fear endeavored to hide it under his gown;

which Caesar perceiving, took it from him, and turning over a

great part of the book standing, gave it him again, and said,

"My child, this was a learned man, and a lover of his country."

And immediately after he had vanquished Antony, being then

consul, he made Cicero's son his colleague in the office; and

under that consulship, the senate took down all the statues of

Antony, and abolished all the other honors that had been given

him, and decreed that none of that family should thereafter bear

the name of Marcus; and thus the final acts of the punishment of

Antony were, by the divine powers, devolved upon the family of

Cicero.

COMPARISON OF DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO

These are the most memorable circumstances recorded in history

of Demosthenes and Cicero which have come to our knowledge.  But

omitting an exact comparison of their respective faculties in

speaking, yet thus much seems fit to be said; that Demosthenes,

to make himself a master in rhetoric, applied all the faculties

he had, natural or acquired, wholly that way; that he far

surpassed in force and strength of eloquence all his

contemporaries in political and judicial speaking, in grandeur

and majesty all the panegyrical orators, and in accuracy and

science all the logicians and rhetoricians of his day; that

Cicero was highly educated, and by his diligent study became a

most accomplished general scholar in all these branches, having

left behind him numerous philosophical treatises of his own on

Academic principles; as, indeed, even in his written speeches,

both political and judicial, we see him continually trying to

show his learning by the way.  And one may discover the

different temper of each of them in their speeches.  For

Demosthenes's oratory was without all embellishment and jesting,

wholly composed for real effect and seriousness; not smelling of

the lamp, as Pytheas scoffingly said, but of the temperance,

thoughtfulness, austerity, and grave earnestness of his temper.

Whereas Cicero's love of mockery often ran him into scurrility;

and in his love of laughing away serious arguments in judicial

cases by jests and facetious remarks, with a view to the

advantage of his clients, he paid too little regard to what was

decent: saying, for example, in his defense of Caelius, that he

had done no absurd thing in such plenty and affluence to indulge

himself in pleasures, it being a kind of madness not to enjoy

the things we possess, especially since the most eminent

philosophers have asserted pleasure to be the chiefest good.  So

also we are told, that when Cicero, being consul, undertook the

defense of Murena against Cato's prosecution, by way of

bantering Cato, he made a long series of jokes upon the absurd

paradoxes, as they are called, of the Stoic sect; so that a loud

laughter passing from the crowd to the judges, Cato, with a

quiet smile, said to those that sat next him, "My friends, what

an amusing consul we have."

And, indeed, Cicero was by natural temper very much disposed to

mirth and pleasantry, and always appeared with a smiling and

serene countenance.  But Demosthenes had constant care and

thoughtfulness in his look, and a serious anxiety, which he

seldom, if ever, laid aside; and, therefore, was accounted by

his enemies, as he himself confessed, morose and ill-mannered.

Also, it is very evident, out of their several writings, that

Demosthenes never touched upon his own praises but decently and

without offense when there was need of it, and for some

weightier end; but, upon other occasions modestly and sparingly.

But Cicero's immeasurable boasting of himself in his orations

argues him guilty of an uncontrollable appetite for distinction,

his cry being evermore that arms should give place to the gown,

and the soldier's laurel to the tongue. And at last we find him

extolling not only his deeds and actions, but his orations also,

as well those that were only spoken, as those that were

published; as if he were engaged in a boyish trial of skill, who

should speak best, with the rhetoricians, Isocrates and

Anaximenes, not as one who could claim the task to guide and

instruct the Roman nation, the

Soldier full-armed, terrific to the foe.

It is necessary, indeed, for a political leader to be an able

speaker; but it is an ignoble thing for any man to admire and

relish the glory of his own eloquence.  And, in this matter,

Demosthenes had a more than ordinary gravity and magnificence of

mind, accounting his talent in speaking nothing more than a mere

accomplishment and matter of practice, the success of which must

depend greatly on the good-will and candor of his hearers, and

regarding those who pride themselves on such accounts to be men

of a low and petty disposition.

The power of persuading and governing the people did, indeed,

equally belong to both, so that those who had armies and camps

at command stood in need of their assistance; as Chares,

Diopithes, and Leosthenes of Demosthenes's, Pompey and young

Caesar of Cicero's, as the latter himself admits in his Memoirs

addressed to Agrippa and Maecenas.  But what are thought and

commonly said most to demonstrate and try the tempers of men,

namely, authority and place, by moving every passion, and

discovering every frailty, these are things which Demosthenes

never received; nor was he ever in a position to give such proof

of himself, having never obtained any eminent office, nor led

any of those armies into the field against Philip which he

raised by his eloquence.  Cicero, on the other hand, was sent

quaestor into Sicily, and proconsul into Cilicia and Cappadocia,

at a time when avarice was at the height, and the commanders and

governors who were employed abroad, as though they thought it a

mean thing to steal, set themselves to seize by open force; so

that it seemed no heinous matter to take bribes, but he that did

it most moderately was in good esteem.  And yet he, at this

time, gave the most abundant proofs alike of his contempt of

riches and of his humanity and good-nature.  And at Rome, when

he was created consul in name, but indeed received sovereign and

dictatorial authority against Catiline and his conspirators, he

attested the truth of Plato's prediction, that then the miseries

of states would be at an end, when by a happy fortune supreme

power, wisdom, and justice should be united in one.

It is said, to the reproach of Demosthenes, that his eloquence

was mercenary; that he privately made orations for Phormion and

Apollodorus, though adversaries in the same cause; that he was

charged with moneys received from the king of Persia, and

condemned for bribes from Harpalus.  And should we grant that

all those (and they are not few) who have made these statements

against him have spoken what is untrue, yet that Demosthenes was

not the character to look without desire on the presents offered

him out of respect and gratitude by royal persons, and that one

who lent money on maritime usury was likely to be thus indifferent,

is what we cannot assert.  But that Cicero refused, from the

Sicilians when he was quaestor, from the king of Cappadocia when

he was proconsul, and from his friends at Rome when he was in exile,

many presents, though urged to receive them, has been said already.

Moreover, Demosthenes's banishment was infamous, upon conviction

for bribery; Cicero's very honorable, for ridding his country of

a set of villains.  Therefore, when Demosthenes fled his

country, no man regarded it; for Cicero's sake the senate

changed their habit, and put on mourning, and would not be

persuaded to make any act before Cicero's return was decreed.

Cicero, however, passed his exile idly in Macedonia.  But the

very exile of Demosthenes made up a great part of the services

he did for his country; for he went through the cities of

Greece, and everywhere, as we have said, joined in the conflict

on behalf of the Grecians, driving out the Macedonian

ambassadors, and approving himself a much better citizen than

Themistocles and Alcibiades did in the like fortune.  And, after

his return, he again devoted himself to the same public service,

and continued firm to his opposition to Antipater and the

Macedonians.  Whereas Laelius reproached Cicero in the senate

for sitting silent when Caesar, a beardless youth, asked leave

to come forward, contrary to the law, as a candidate for the

consulship; and Brutus, in his epistles, charges him with

nursing and rearing a greater and more heavy tyranny than that

they had removed.

Finally, Cicero's death excites our pity; for an old man to be

miserably carried up and down by his servants, flying and hiding

himself from that death which was, in the course of nature, so

near at hand; and yet at last to be murdered.  Demosthenes,

though he seemed at first a little to supplicate, yet, by his

preparing and keeping the poison by him, demands our admiration;

and still more admirable was his using it.  When the temple of

the god no longer afforded him a sanctuary, he took refuge, as

it were, at a mightier altar, freeing himself from arms and

soldiers, and laughing to scorn the cruelty of Antipater.

DEMETRIUS

Ingenious men have long observed a resemblance between the arts

and the bodily senses.  And they were first led to do so, I

think, by noticing the way in which, both in the arts and with

our senses, we examine opposites.  Judgment once obtained, the

use to which we put it differs in the two cases.  Our senses are

not meant to pick out black rather than white, to prefer sweet

to bitter, or soft and yielding to hard and resisting objects;

all they have to do is to receive impressions as they occur, and

report to the understanding the impressions as received.  The

arts, on the other hand, which reason institutes expressly to

choose and obtain some suitable, and to refuse and get rid of

some unsuitable object, have their proper concern in the

consideration of the former; though, in a casual and contingent

way, they must also, for the very rejection of them, pay

attention to the latter.  Medicine, to produce health, has to

examine disease, and music, to create harmony, must investigate

discord; and the supreme arts, of temperance, of justice, and of

wisdom, as they are acts of judgment and selection, exercised

not on good and just and expedient only, but also on wicked,

unjust, and inexpedient objects, do not give their commendations

to the mere innocence whose boast is its inexperience of evil,

and whose truer name is, by their award, suppleness and

ignorance of what all men who live aright should know.  The

ancient Spartans, at their festivals, used to force their Helots

to swallow large quantities of raw wine, and then to expose them

at the public tables, to let the young men see what it is to be

drunk.  And, though I do not think it consistent with humanity

or with civil justice to correct one man's morals by corrupting

those of another, yet we may, I think, avail ourselves of the

cases of those who have fallen into indiscretions, and have, in

high stations, made themselves conspicuous for misconduct; and I

shall not do ill to introduce a pair or two of such examples

among these biographies, not, assuredly, to amuse and divert my

readers, or give variety to my theme, but, as Ismenias, the

Theban, used to show his scholars good and bad performers on the

flute, and to tell them, "You should play like this man," and

"You should not play like that," and as Antigenidas used to say,

Young people would take greater pleasure in hearing good

playing, if first they were set to hear bad, so, and in the same

manner, it seems to me likely enough that we shall be all the

more zealous and more emulous to read, observe, and imitate the

better lives, if we are not left in ignorance of the blameworthy

and the bad.

For this reason, the following book contains the lives of

Demetrius Poliorcetes, and Antonius the Triumvir; two persons

who have abundantly justified the words of Plato, that great

natures produce great vices as well as virtues.  Both alike were

amorous and intemperate, warlike and munificent, sumptuous in

their way of living, and overbearing in their manners.  And the

likeness of their fortunes carried out the resemblance in their

characters.  Not only were their lives each a series of great

successes and great disasters, mighty acquisitions and

tremendous losses of power, sudden overthrows, followed by

unexpected recoveries, but they died, also, Demetrius in actual

captivity to his enemies, and Antony on the verge of it.

Antigonus had by his wife, Stratonice, the daughter of

Corrhaeus, two sons; the one of whom, after the name of his

uncle, he called Demetrius, the other had that of his

grandfather Philip, and died young.  This is the most general

account, although some have related, that Demetrius was not the

son of Antigonus, but of his brother; and that his own father

dying young, and his mother being afterwards married to

Antigonus, he was accounted to be his son.

Demetrius had not the height of his father Antigonus, though he

was a tall man.  But his countenance was one of such singular

beauty and expression, that no painter or sculptor ever produced

a good likeness of him.  It combined grace and strength, dignity

with boyish bloom, and, in the midst of youthful heat and

passion, what was hardest of all to represent was a certain

heroic look and air of kingly greatness.  Nor did his character

belie his looks, as no one was better able to render himself

both loved and feared.  For as he was the most easy and

agreeable of companions, and the most luxurious and delicate of

princes in his drinking and banqueting and daily pleasures, so

in action there was never anyone that showed a more vehement

persistence, or a more passionate energy.  Bacchus, skilled in

the conduct of war, and after war in giving peace its pleasures

and joys, seems to have been his pattern among the gods.

He was wonderfully fond of his father Antigonus; and the

tenderness he had for his mother led him, for her sake, to

redouble attentions, which it was evident were not so much owing

to fear or duty as to the more powerful motives of inclination.

It is reported, that, returning one day from hunting, he went

immediately into the apartment of Antigonus, who was conversing

with some ambassadors, and after stepping up and kissing his

father, he sat down by him, just as he was, still holding in his

hand the javelins which he had brought with him.  Whereupon

Antigonus, who had just dismissed the ambassadors with their

answer, called out in a loud voice to them, as they were going,

"Mention, also, that this is the way in which we two live

together;" as if to imply to them that it was no slender mark of

the power and security of his government that there was so

perfect a good understanding between himself and his son.  Such

an unsociable, solitary thing is power, and so much of jealousy

and distrust in it, that the first and greatest of the

successors of Alexander could make it a thing to glory in that

he was not so afraid of his son as to forbid his standing beside

him with a weapon in his hand.  And, in fact, among all the

successors of Alexander, that of Antigonus was the only house

which, for many descents, was exempted from crime of this kind;

or, to state it exactly, Philip was the only one of this family

who was guilty of a son's death.  All the other families, we may

fairly say, afforded frequent examples of fathers who brought

their children, husbands their wives, children their mothers, to

untimely ends; and that brothers should put brothers to death

was assumed, like the postulates of mathematicians, as the

common and recognized royal first principle of safety.

Let us here record an example in the early life of Demetrius,

showing his natural humane and kindly disposition.  It was an

adventure which passed betwixt him and Mithridates, the son of

Ariobarzanes, who was about the same age with Demetrius, and

lived with him, in attendance on Antigonus; and although nothing

was said or could be said to his reproach, he fell under

suspicion, in consequence of a dream which Antigonus had.

Antigonus thought himself in a fair and spacious field, where he

sowed golden seed, and saw presently a golden crop come up; of

which, however, looking presently again, he saw nothing remain

but the stubble, without the ears.  And as he stood by in anger

and vexation, he heard some voices saying, Mithridates had cut

the golden harvest and carried it off into Pontus.  Antigonus,

much discomposed with his dream, first bound his son by an oath

not to speak, and then related it to him, adding, that he had

resolved, in consequence, to lose no time in ridding himself of

Mithridates, and making away with him.  Demetrius was extremely

distressed; and when the young man came, as usual, to pass his

time with him, to keep his oath he forbore from saying a word,

but, drawing him aside little by little from the company, as

soon as they were by themselves, without opening his lips, with

the point of his javelin he traced before him the words, "Fly,

Mithridates."  Mithridates took the hint, and fled by night into

Cappadocia, where Antigonus's dream about him was quickly

brought to its due fulfillment; for he got possession of a large

and fertile territory; and from him descended the line of the

kings of Pontus, which, in the eighth generation, was reduced by

the Romans.  This may serve for a specimen of the early goodness

and love of justice that was part of Demetrius's natural

character.

But as in the elements of the world, Empedocles tells us, out of

liking and dislike, there spring up contention and warfare, and

all the more, the closer the contact, or the nearer the approach

of the objects, even so the perpetual hostilities among the

successors of Alexander were aggravated and inflamed, in

particular cases, by juxtaposition of interests and of

territories; as, for example, in the case of Antigonus and

Ptolemy.  News came to Antigonus that Ptolemy had crossed from

Cyprus and invaded Syria, and was ravaging the country and

reducing the cities.  Remaining, therefore, himself in Phrygia,

he sent Demetrius, now twenty-two years old, to make his first

essay as sole commander in an important charge.  He, whose

youthful heat outran his experience, advancing against an

adversary trained in Alexander's school, and practiced in many

encounters, incurred a great defeat near the town of Gaza, in

which eight thousand of his men were taken, and five thousand

killed.  His own tent, also, his money, and all his private

effects and furniture, were captured.  These, however, Ptolemy

sent back, together with his friends, accompanying them with the

humane and courteous message, that they were not fighting for

anything else but honor and dominion.  Demetrius accepted the

gift, praying only to the gods not to leave him long in

Ptolemy's debt, but to let him have an early chance of doing the

like to him.  He took his disaster, also, with the temper not of

a boy defeated in his attempt, but of an old and long-tried

general, familiar with reverse of fortune; he busied himself in

collecting his men, replenishing his magazines, watching the

allegiance of the cities, and drilling his new recruits.

Antigonus received the news of the battle with the remark, that

Ptolemy had beaten boys, and would now have to fight with men.

But not to humble the spirit of his son, he acceded to his

request, and left him to command on the next occasion.

Not long after, Cilles, Ptolemy's lieutenant, with a powerful

army, took the field, and, looking upon Demetrius as already

defeated by the previous battle, he had in his imagination

driven him out of Syria before he saw him.  But he quickly found

himself deceived; for Demetrius came so unexpectedly upon him

that he surprised both the general and his army, making him and

seven thousand of the soldiers prisoners of war, and possessing

himself of a large amount of treasure.  But his joy in the

victory was not so much for the prizes he should keep, as for

those he could restore; and his thankfulness was less for the

wealth and glory than for the means it gave him of requiting his

enemy's former generosity.  He did not, however, take it into

his own hands, but wrote to his father.  And on receiving leave

to do as he liked, he sent back to Ptolemy Cilles and his

friends, loaded with presents.  This defeat drove Ptolemy out of

Syria, and brought Antigonus from Celaenae, to enjoy the

victory, and the sight of the son who had gained it.

Soon after, Demetrius was sent to bring the Nabathaean Arabs

into obedience.  And here he got into a district without water,

and incurred considerable danger, but by his resolute and

composed demeanor he overawed the barbarians, and returned after

receiving from them a large amount of booty, and seven hundred

camels.  Not long after, Seleucus, whom Antigonus had formerly

chased out of Babylon, but who had afterwards recovered his

dominion by his own efforts and maintained himself in it, went

with large forces on an expedition to reduce the tribes on the

confines of India and the provinces near Mount Caucasus.  And

Demetrius, conjecturing that he had left Mesopotamia but

slenderly guarded in his absence, suddenly passed the Euphrates

with his army, and made his way into Babylonia unexpectedly;

where he succeeded in capturing one of the two citadels, out of

which he expelled the garrison of Seleucus, and placed in it

seven thousand men of his own.  And after allowing his soldiers

to enrich themselves with all the spoil they could carry with

them out of the country, he retired to the sea, leaving Seleucus

more securely master of his dominions than before, as he seemed

by this conduct to abandon every claim to a country which he

treated like an enemy's.  However, by a rapid advance, he

rescued Halicarnassus from Ptolemy, who was besieging it.  The

glory which this act obtained them inspired both the father and

son with a wonderful desire for freeing Greece, which Cassander

and Ptolemy had everywhere reduced to slavery.  No nobler or

juster war was undertaken by any of the kings; the wealth they

had gained while humbling, with Greek assistance, the barbarians

being thus employed, for honor's sake and good repute, in

helping the Greeks.  When the resolution was taken to begin

their attempt with Athens, one of his friends told Antigonus, if

they captured Athens, they must keep it safe in their own hands,

as by this gangway they might step out from their ships into

Greece when they pleased.  But Antigonus would not hear of it;

he did not want a better or a steadier gangway than people's

good-will; and from Athens, the beacon of the world, the news of

their conduct would soon be handed on to all the world's

inhabitants.  So Demetrius, with a sum of five thousand talents,

and a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships, set sail for Athens,

where Demetrius the Phalerian was governing the city for

Cassander, with a garrison lodged in the port of Munychia.  By

good fortune and skillful management he appeared before Piraeus,

on the twenty-sixth of Thargelion, before anything had been

heard of him.  Indeed, when his ships were seen, they were taken

for Ptolemy's, and preparations were commenced for receiving

them; till at last, the generals discovering their mistake,

hurried down, and all was alarm and confusion, and attempts to

push forward preparations to oppose the landing of this hostile

force.  For Demetrius, having found the entrances of the port

undefended, stood in directly, and was by this time safely

inside, before the eyes of everybody, and made signals from his

ship, requesting a peaceable hearing.  And on leave being given,

he caused a herald with a loud voice to make proclamation that

he was come thither by the command of his father, with no other

design than what he prayed the gods to prosper with success, to

give the Athenians their liberty, to expel the garrison, and to

restore the ancient laws and constitution of the country.

The people, hearing this, at once threw down their shields, and,

clapping their hands, with loud acclamations entreated Demetrius

to land, calling him their deliverer and benefactor.  And the

Phalerian and his party, who saw that there was nothing for it

but to receive the conqueror, whether he should perform his

promises or not, sent, however, messengers to beg for his

protection; to whom Demetrius gave a kind reception, and sent

back with them Aristodemus of Miletus, one of his father's

friends.  The Phalerian, under the change of government, was

more afraid of his fellow-citizens than of the enemy; but

Demetrius took precautions for him, and, out of respect for his

reputation and character, sent him with a safe conduct to

Thebes, whither he desired to go.  For himself, he declared he

would not, in spite of all his curiosity, put his foot in the

city, till he had completed its deliverance by driving out the

garrison.  So, blockading Munychia with a palisade and trench,

he sailed off to attack Megara, where also there was one of

Cassander's garrisons.  But, hearing that Cratesipolis, the wife

of Alexander son of Polysperchon, who was famous for her beauty,

was well disposed to see him, he left his troops near Megara,

and set out with a few light-armed attendants for Patrae, where

she was now staying.  And, quitting these also, he pitched his

tent apart from everybody, that the woman might pay her visit

without being seen.  This some of the enemy perceived, and

suddenly attacked him; and, in his alarm, he was obliged to

disguise himself in a shabby cloak, and run for it, narrowly

escaping the shame of being made a prisoner, in reward for his

foolish passion.  And as it was, his tent and money were taken.

Megara, however, surrendered, and would have been pillaged by

the soldiers, but for the urgent intercession of the Athenians.

The garrison was driven out, and the city restored to

independence.  While he was occupied in this, he remembered that

Stilpo, the philosopher, famous for his choice of a life of

tranquillity, was residing here.  He, therefore, sent for him,

and begged to know whether anything belonging to him had been

taken.  "No," replied Stilpo, "I have not met with anyone to

take away knowledge."  Pretty nearly all the servants in the

city had been stolen away; and so, when Demetrius, renewing his

courtesies to Stilpo, on taking leave of him, said, "I leave

your city, Stilpo, a city of freemen," "certainly," replied

Stilpo, "there is not one serving man left among us all."

Returning from Megara, he sat down before the citadel of

Munychia, which in a few days he took by assault, and caused the

fortifications to be demolished; and thus having accomplished

his design, upon the request and invitation of the Athenians he

made his entrance into the upper city, where, causing the people

to be summoned, he publicly announced to them that their ancient

constitution was restored, and that they should receive from his

father, Antigonus, a present of one hundred and fifty thousand

measures of wheat, and such a supply of timber as would enable

them to build a hundred galleys.  In this manner did the

Athenians recover their popular institutions, after the space of

fifteen years from the time of the war of Lamia and the battle

before Cranon, during which interval of time the government had

been administered nominally as an oligarchy, but really by a

single man, Demetrius the Phalerian being so powerful.  But the

excessive honors which the Athenians bestowed, for these noble

and generous acts, upon Demetrius, created offense and disgust.

The Athenians were the first who gave Antigonus and Demetrius

the title of kings, which hitherto they had made it a point of

piety to decline, as the one remaining royal honor still

reserved for the lineal descendants of Philip and Alexander, in

which none but they could venture to participate.  Another name

which they received from no people but the Athenians was that of

the Tutelar Deities and Deliverers.  And to enhance this

flattery, by a common vote it was decreed to change the style of

the city, and not to have the years named any longer from the

annual archon; a priest of the two Tutelary Divinities, who was

to be yearly chosen, was to have this honor, and all public acts

and instruments were to bear their date by his name.  They

decreed, also, that the figures of Antigonus and Demetrius

should be woven, with those of the gods, into the pattern of the

great robe. They consecrated the spot where Demetrius first

alighted from his chariot, and built an altar there, with the

name of the Altar of the Descent of Demetrius.  They created two

new tribes, calling them after the names of these princes, the

Antigonid and the Demetriad; and to the Council, which consisted

of five hundred persons, fifty being chosen out of every tribe,

they added one hundred more to represent these new tribes.  But

the wildest proposal was one made by Stratocles, the great

inventor of all these ingenious and exquisite compliments,

enacting that the members of any deputation that the city should

send to Demetrius or Antigonus should have the same title as

those sent to Delphi or Olympia for the performance of the

national sacrifices in behalf of the state, at the great Greek

festivals. This Stratocles was, in all respects, an audacious

and abandoned character, and seemed to have made it his object

to copy, by his buffoonery and impertinence, Cleon's old

familiarity with the people.  His mistress, Phylacion, one day

bringing him a dish of brains and neckbones for his dinner,

"Oh," said he, "I am to dine upon the things which we statesmen

play at ball with."  At another time, when the Athenians

received their naval defeat near Amorgos, he hastened home

before the news could reach the city, and, having a chaplet on

his head, came riding through the Ceramicus, announcing that

they had won a victory, and moved a vote for thanksgivings to

the gods, and a distribution of meat among the people in their

tribes.  Presently after came those who brought home the wrecks

from the battle; and when the people exclaimed at what he had

done, he came boldly to face the outcry, and asked what harm

there had been in giving them two days' pleasure.

Such was Stratocles.  And, "adding flame to fire," as

Aristophanes says, there was one who, to outdo Stratocles,

proposed, that it should be decreed, that whensoever Demetrius

should honor their city with his presence, they should treat him

with the same show of hospitable entertainment, with which Ceres

and Bacchus are received; and the citizen who exceeded the rest

in the splendor and costliness of his reception should have a

sum of money granted him from the public purse to make a sacred

offering.  Finally, they changed the name of the month of

Munychion, and called it Demetrion; they gave the name of the

Demetrian to the odd day between the end of the old and the

beginning of the new month; and turned the feast of Bacchus, the

Dionysia, into the Demetria, or feast of Demetrius.  Most of

these changes were marked by the divine displeasure.  The sacred

robe, in which, according to their decree, the figures of

Demetrius and Antigonus had been woven with those of Jupiter and

Minerva, was caught by a violent gust of wind, while the

procession was conveying it through the Ceramicus, and was torn

from the top to the bottom.  A crop of hemlock, a plant which

scarcely grew anywhere, even in the country thereabout, sprang

up in abundance round the altars which they had erected to these

new divinities.  They had to omit the solemn procession at the

feast of Bacchus, as upon the very day of its celebration there

was such a severe and rigorous frost, coming quite out of its

time, that not only the vines and fig-trees were killed, but

almost all the wheat was destroyed in the blade.  Accordingly,

Philippides, an enemy to Stratocles, attacked him in a comedy,

in the following verses: —

He for whom frosts that nipped your vines were sent,

And for whose sins the holy robe was rent,

Who grants to men the gods' own honors, he,

Not the poor stage, is now the people's enemy.

Philippides was a great favorite with king Lysimachus, from whom

the Athenians received, for his sake, a variety of kindnesses.

Lysimachus went so far as to think it a happy omen to meet or

see Philippides at the outset of any enterprise or expedition.

And, in general, he was well thought of for his own character,

as a plain, uninterfering person, with none of the officious,

self-important habits of a court.  Once, when Lysimachus was

solicitous to show him kindness, and asked what he had that he

could make him a present of, "Anything," replied Philippides,

"but your state secrets."  The stage-player, we thought,

deserved a place in our narrative quite as well as the public

speaker.

But that which exceeded all the former follies and flatteries,

was the proposal of Dromoclides of Sphettus; who, when there was

a debate about sending to the Delphic Oracle to inquire the

proper course for the consecration of certain bucklers, moved in

the assembly that they should rather send to receive an oracle

from Demetrius.  I will transcribe the very words of the order,

which was in these terms: "May it be happy and propitious.  The

people of Athens have decreed, that a fit person shall be

chosen among the Athenian citizens, who shall be deputed to be

sent to the Deliverer; and after he hath duly performed the

sacrifices, shall inquire of the Deliverer, in what most

religious and decent manner he will please to direct, at the

earliest possible time, the consecration of the bucklers; and

according to the answer the people shall act."  With this

befooling they completed the perversion of a mind which even

before was not so strong or sound as it should have been.

During his present leisure in Athens, he took to wife Eurydice,

a descendant of the ancient Miltiades, who had been married to

Opheltas, the ruler of Cyrene, and after his death had come back

to Athens.  The Athenians took the marriage as a compliment and

favor to the city.  But Demetrius was very free in these

matters, and was the husband of several wives at once; the

highest place and honor among all being retained by Phila, who

was Antipater's daughter, and had been the wife of Craterus, the

one of all the successors of Alexander who left behind him the

strongest feelings of attachment among the Macedonians.  And for

these reasons Antigonus had obliged him to marry her,

notwithstanding the disparity of their years, Demetrius being

quite a youth, and she much older; and when upon that account he

made some difficulty in complying, Antigonus whispered in his

ear the maxim from Euripides, broadly substituting a new word

for the original, serve, —

Natural or not,

A man must wed where profit will be got.

Any respect, however, which he showed either to Phila or to his

other wives did not go so far as to prevent him from consorting

with any number of mistresses, and bearing, in this respect,

the worst character of all the princes of his time.

A summons now arrived from his father, ordering him to go and

fight with Ptolemy in Cyprus, which he was obliged to obey,

sorry as he was to abandon Greece.  And in quitting this nobler

and more glorious enterprise, he sent to Cleonides, Ptolemy's

general, who was holding garrisons in Sicyon and Corinth,

offering him money to let the cities be independent.  But on his

refusal, he set sail hastily, taking additional forces with him,

and made for Cyprus; where, immediately upon his arrival, he

fell upon Menelaus, the brother of Ptolemy, and gave him a

defeat.  But when Ptolemy himself came in person, with large

forces both on land and sea, for some little time nothing took

place beyond an interchange of menaces and lofty talk.  Ptolemy

bade Demetrius sail off before the whole armament came up, if he

did not wish to be trampled under foot; and Demetrius offered to

let him retire, on condition of his withdrawing his garrisons

from Sicyon and Corinth.  And not they alone, but all the other

potentates and princes of the time, were in anxiety for the

uncertain impending issue of the conflict; as it seemed evident,

that the conqueror's prize would be, not Cyprus or Syria, but

the absolute supremacy.

Ptolemy had brought a hundred and fifty galleys with him, and

gave orders to Menelaus to sally, in the heat of the battle, out

of the harbor of Salamis, and attack with sixty ships the rear

of Demetrius.  Demetrius, however, opposing to these sixty ten

of his galleys, which were a sufficient number to block up the

narrow entrance of the harbor, and drawing out his land forces

along all the headlands running out into the sea, went into

action with a hundred and eighty galleys, and, attacking with

the utmost boldness and impetuosity, utterly routed Ptolemy, who

fled with eight ships, the sole remnant of his fleet, seventy

having been taken with all their men, and the rest destroyed in

the battle; while the whole multitude of attendants, friends,

and women, that had followed in the ships of burden, all the

arms, treasure, and military engines fell, without exception,

into the hands of Demetrius, and were by him collected and

brought into the camp.  Among the prisoners was the celebrated

Lamia, famed at one time for her skill on the flute, and

afterwards renowned as a mistress.  And although now upon the

wane of her youthful beauty, and though Demetrius was much her

junior, she exercised over him so great a charm, that all other

women seemed to be amorous of Demetrius, but Demetrius amorous

only of Lamia.  After this signal victory, Demetrius came before

Salamis; and Menelaus, unable to make any resistance,

surrendered himself and all his fleet, twelve hundred horse, and

twelve thousand foot, together with the place.  But that which

added more than all to the glory and splendor of the success was

the humane and generous conduct of Demetrius to the vanquished.

For, after he had given honorable funerals to the dead, he

bestowed liberty upon the living; and that he might not forget

the Athenians, he sent them, as a present, complete arms for

twelve hundred men.

To carry this happy news, Aristodemus of Miletus, the most

perfect flatterer belonging to the court, was dispatched to

Antigonus; and he, to enhance the welcome message, was resolved,

it would appear, to make his most successful effort.  When he

crossed from Cyprus, he bade the galley which conveyed him come

to anchor off the land; and, having ordered all the ship's crew

to remain aboard, he took the boat, and was set ashore alone.

Thus he proceeded to Antigonus, who, one may well imagine, was

in suspense enough about the issue, and suffered all the

anxieties natural to men engaged in so perilous a struggle.  And

when he heard that Aristodemus was coming alone, it put him into

yet greater trouble; he could scarcely forbear from going out to

meet him himself; he sent messenger on messenger, and friend

after friend, to inquire what news.  But Aristodemus, walking

gravely and with a settled countenance, without making any

answer, still proceeded quietly onward; until Antigonus, quite

alarmed and no longer able to refrain, got up and met him at the

gate, whither he came with a crowd of anxious followers now

collected and running after him.  As soon as he saw Antigonus

within hearing, stretching out his hands, he accosted him with

the loud exclamation, "Hail, king Antigonus! we have defeated

Ptolemy by sea, and have taken Cyprus and sixteen thousand eight

hundred prisoners."  "Welcome, Aristodemus," replied Antigonus,

"but, as you chose to torture us so long for your good news, you

may wait awhile for the reward of it."

Upon this the people around gave Antigonus and Demetrius, for

the first time, the title of kings.  His friends at once set a

diadem on the head of Antigonus; and he sent one presently to

his son, with a letter addressed to him as King Demetrius.  And

when this news was told in Egypt, that they might not seem to be

dejected with the late defeat, Ptolemy's followers also took

occasion to bestow the style of king upon him; and the rest of

the successors of Alexander were quick to follow the example.

Lysimachus began to wear the diadem; and Seleucus, who had

before received the name in all addresses from the barbarians,

now also took it upon him in all business with the Greeks.

Cassander still retained his usual superscription in his

letters, but others, both in writing and speaking, gave him the

royal title.  Nor was this the mere accession of a name, or

introduction of a new fashion.  The men's own sentiments about

themselves were disturbed, and their feelings elevated; a spirit

of pomp and arrogance passed into their habits of life and

conversation, as a tragic actor on the stage modifies, with a

change of dress, his step, his voice, his motions in sitting

down, his manner in addressing another.  The punishments they

inflicted were more violent after they had thus laid aside that

modest style under which they formerly dissembled their power,

and the influence of which had often made them gentler and less

exacting to their subjects.  A single pattering voice effected a

revolution in the world.

Antigonus, extremely elevated with the success of his arms in

Cyprus under the conduct of Demetrius, resolved to push on his

good fortune, and to lead his forces in person against Ptolemy

by land, whilst Demetrius should coast with a great fleet along

the shore, to assist him by sea.  The issue of the contest was

intimated in a dream which Medius, a friend to Antigonus, had at

this time in his sleep.  He thought he saw Antigonus and his

whole army running, as if it had been a race; that, in the first

part of the course, he went off showing great strength and

speed; gradually, however, his pace slackened; and at the end he

saw him come lagging up, tired and almost breathless and quite

spent.  Antigonus himself met with many difficulties by land;

and Demetrius, encountering a great storm at sea, was driven,

with the loss of many or his ships, upon a dangerous coast

without a harbor.  So the expedition returned without effecting

anything.  Antigonus, now nearly eighty years old, was no

longer well able to go through the fatigues of a marching

campaign, though rather on account of his great size and

corpulence than from loss of strength; and for this reason he

left things to his son, whose fortune and experience appeared

sufficient for all undertakings, and whose luxury and expense

and revelry gave him no concern.  For though in peace he vented

himself in his pleasures, and, when there was nothing to do, ran

headlong into any excesses, in war he was as sober and

abstemious as the most temperate character.  The story is told,

that once, after Lamia had gained open supremacy over him, the

old man, when Demetrius coming home from abroad began to kiss

him with unusual warmth, asked him if he took him for Lamia.  At

another time, Demetrius, after spending several days in a

debauch, excused himself for his absence, by saying he had had a

violent flux.  "So I heard," replied Antigonus; "was it of

Thasian wine, or Chian?"  Once he was told his son was ill, and

went to see him.  At the door he met some young beauty.  Going

in, he sat down by the bed and took his pulse.  "The fever,"

said Demetrius, "has just left me."  "O yes," replied the

father, "I met it going out at the door."  Demetrius's great

actions made Antigonus treat him thus easily.  The Scythians in

their drinking-bouts twang their bows, to keep their courage

awake amidst the dreams of indulgence; but he would resign his

whole being, now, to pleasure, and now to action; and though he

never let thoughts of the one intrude upon the pursuit of the

other, yet, when the time came for preparing for war, he showed

as much capacity as any man.

And indeed his ability displayed itself even more in preparing

for, than in conducting a war.  He thought he could never be too

well supplied for every possible occasion, and took a pleasure,

not to be satiated, in great improvements in ship-building and

machines.  He did not waste his natural genius and power of

mechanical research on toys and idle fancies, turning, painting,

and playing on the flute, like some kings, Aeropus, for example,

king of Macedon, who spent his days in making small lamps and

tables; or Attalus Philometor, whose amusement was to cultivate

poisons, henbane and hellebore, and even hemlock, aconite, and

dorycnium, which he used to sow himself in the royal gardens,

and made it his business to gather the fruits and collect the

juices in their season.  The Parthian kings took a pride in

whetting and sharpening with their own hands the points of their

arrows and javelins.  But when Demetrius played the workman, it

was like a king, and there was magnificence in his handicraft.

The articles he produced bore marks upon the face of them not of

ingenuity only, but of a great mind and a lofty purpose.  They

were such as a king might not only design and pay for, but use

his own hands to make; and while friends might be terrified with

their greatness, enemies could be charmed with their beauty; a

phrase which is not so pretty to the ear as it is true to the

fact.  The very people against whom they were to be employed

could not forbear running to gaze with admiration upon his

galleys of five and six ranges of oars, as they passed along

their coasts; and the inhabitants of besieged cities came on

their walls to see the spectacle of his famous City-takers.

Even Lysimachus, of all the kings of his time the greatest enemy

of Demetrius, coming to raise the siege of Soli in Cilicia, sent

first to desire permission to see his galleys and engines, and,

having had his curiosity gratified by a view of them, expressed

his admiration and quitted the place.  The Rhodians, also, whom

he long besieged, begged him, when they concluded a peace, to

let them have some of his engines, which they might preserve as

a memorial at once of his power and of their own brave

resistance.

The quarrel between him and the Rhodians was on account of their

being allies to Ptolemy, and in the siege the greatest of all

the engines was planted against their walls.  The base of it was

exactly square, each side containing twenty-four cubits; it rose

to a height of thirty-three cubits, growing narrower from the

base to the top.  Within were several apartments or chambers,

which were to be filled with armed men, and in every story the

front towards the enemy had windows for discharging missiles of

all sorts, the whole being filled with soldiers for every

description of fighting.  And what was most wonderful was that,

notwithstanding its size, when it was moved it never tottered or

inclined to one side, but went forward on its base in perfect

equilibrium, with a loud noise and great impetus, astounding the

minds, and yet at the same time charming the eyes of all the

beholders.

Whilst Demetrius was at this same siege, there were brought to

him two iron cuirasses from Cyprus, weighing each of them no

more than forty pounds, and Zoilus, who had forged them, to show

the excellence of their temper, desired that one of them might

be tried with a catapult missile, shot out of one of the engines

at no greater distance than six and twenty paces; and, upon the

experiment, it was found, that though the dart exactly hit the

cuirass, yet it made no greater impression than such a slight

scratch as might be made with the point of a style or graver.

Demetrius took this for his own wearing, and gave the other to

Alcimus the Epirot, the best soldier and strongest man of all

his captains, the only one who used to wear armor to the weight

of two talents, one talent being the weight which others thought

sufficient.  He fell during this siege in a battle near the

theater.

The Rhodians made a brave defense, insomuch that Demetrius saw

he was making but little progress, and only persisted out of

obstinacy and passion; and the rather because the Rhodians,

having captured a ship in which some clothes and furniture, with

letters from herself; were coming to him from Phila his wife,

had sent on everything to Ptolemy, and had not copied the

honorable example of the Athenians, who, having surprised an

express sent from king Philip, their enemy, opened all the

letters he was charged with, excepting only those directed to

queen Olympias, which they returned with the seal unbroken.

Yet, although greatly provoked, Demetrius, into whose power it

shortly after came to repay the affront, would not suffer

himself to retaliate.  Protogenes the Caunian had been making

them a painting of the story of Ialysus, which was all but

completed, when it was taken by Demetrius in one of the suburbs.

The Rhodians sent a herald begging him to be pleased to spare

the work and not let it be destroyed; Demetrius's answer to

which was that he would rather burn the pictures of his father

than a piece of art which had cost so much labor.  It is said to

have taken Protogenes seven years to paint, and they tell us

that Apelles, when he first saw it, was struck dumb with wonder,

and called it, on recovering his speech, "a great labor and a

wonderful success," adding, however, that it had not the graces

which carried his own paintings as it were up to the heavens.

This picture, which came with the rest in the general mass to

Rome, there perished by fire.

While the Rhodians were thus defending their city to the

uttermost, Demetrius, who was not sorry for an excuse to retire,

found one in the arrival of ambassadors from Athens, by whose

mediation terms were made that the Rhodians should bind

themselves to aid Antigonus and Demetrius against all enemies,

Ptolemy excepted.

The Athenians entreated his help against Cassander, who was

besieging the city.  So he went thither with a fleet of three

hundred and thirty ships, and many soldiers; and not only drove

Cassander out of Attica, but pursued him as far as Thermopylae,

routed him, and became master of Heraclea, which came over to

him voluntarily, and of a body of six thousand Macedonians,

which also joined him.  Returning hence, he gave their liberty

to all the Greeks on this side Thermopylae, and made alliance

with the Boeotians, took Cenchreae, and reducing the fortresses

of Phyle and Panactum, in which were garrisons of Cassander,

restored them to the Athenians.  They, in requital, though they

had before been so profuse in bestowing honors upon him, that

one would have thought they had exhausted all the capacities of

invention, showed they had still new refinements of adulation to

devise for him.  They gave him, as his lodging, the back temple

in the Parthenon, and here he lived, under the immediate roof,

as they meant it to imply, of his hostess, Minerva; no reputable

or well-conducted guest to be quartered upon a maiden goddess.

When his brother Philip was once put into a house where three

young women were living, Antigonus saying nothing to him, sent

for his quartermaster, and told him, in the young man's

presence, to find some less crowded lodgings for him.

Demetrius, however, who should, to say the least, have paid the

goddess the respect due to an elder sister, for that was the

purport of the city's compliment, filled the temple with such

pollutions that the place seemed least profaned when his license

confined itself to common women like Chrysis, Lamia, Demo, and

Anticyra.

The fair name of the city forbids any further plain particulars;

let us only record the severe virtue of the young Damocles,

surnamed, and by that surname pointed out to Demetrius, the

beautiful; who, to escape importunities, avoided every place of

resort, and when at last followed into a private bathing room by

Demetrius, seeing none at hand to help or deliver, seized the

lid from the cauldron, and, plunging into the boiling water,

sought a death untimely and unmerited, but worthy of the country

and of the beauty that occasioned it.  Not so Cleaenetus, the

son of Cleomedon, who, to obtain from Demetrius a letter of

intercession to the people in behalf of his father, lately

condemned in a fine of fifty talents, disgraced himself, and got

the city into trouble.  In deference to the letter, they

remitted the fine, yet they made an edict prohibiting any

citizen for the future to bring letters from Demetrius.  But

being informed that Demetrius resented this as a great

indignity, they not only rescinded in alarm the former order,

but put some of the proposers and advisers of it to death and

banished others, and furthermore enacted and decreed, that

whatsoever king Demetrius should in time to come ordain, should

be accounted right towards the gods and just towards men; and

when one of the better class of citizens said Stratocles must be

mad to use such words, Demochares of Leuconoe observed, he

would be a fool not to be mad.  For Stratocles was well rewarded

for his flatteries; and the saying was remembered against

Demochares, who was soon after sent into banishment.  So fared

the Athenians, after being relieved of the foreign garrison, and

recovering what was called their liberty.

After this Demetrius marched with his forces into Peloponnesus,

where he met with none to oppose him, his enemies flying before

him, and allowing the cities to join him.  He received into

friendship all Acte, as it is called, and all Arcadia except

Mantinea.  He bought the liberty of Argos, Corinth, and Sicyon,

by paying a hundred talents to their garrisons to evacuate them.

At Argos, during the feast of Juno, which happened at the time,

he presided at the games, and, joining in the festivities with

the multitude of the Greeks assembled there, he celebrated his

marriage with Deidamia, daughter of Aeacides, king of the

Molossians, and sister of Pyrrhus.  At Sicyon he told the people

they had put the city just outside of the city, and, persuading

them to remove to where they now live, gave their town not only

a new site but a new name, Demetrias, after himself.  A general

assembly met on the Isthmus, where he was proclaimed, by a great

concourse of people, the Commander of Greece, like Philip and

Alexander of old; whose superior he, in the present height of

his prosperity and power, was willing enough to consider

himself; and, certainly, in one respect he outdid Alexander, who

never refused their title to other kings, or took on himself the

style of king of kings, though many kings received both their

title and their authority as such from him; whereas Demetrius

used to ridicule those who gave the name of king to any except

himself and his father; and in his entertainments was well

pleased when his followers, after drinking to him and his father

as kings, went on to drink the health of Seleucus, with the

title of Master of the Elephants; of Ptolemy, by the name of

High Admiral; of Lysimachus, with the addition of Treasurer; and

of Agathocles, with the style of Governor of the Island of

Sicily.  The other kings merely laughed when they were told of

this vanity; Lysimachus alone expressed some indignation at

being considered a eunuch; such being usually then selected for

the office of treasurer.  And, in general, there was a more

bitter enmity between him and Lysimachus than with any of the

others.  Once, as a scoff at his passion for Lamia, Lysimachus

said he had never before seen a courtesan act a queen's part; to

which Demetrius rejoined that his mistress was quite as honest

us Lysimachus's own Penelope.

But to proceed.  Demetrius being about to return to Athens,

signified by letter to the city that he desired immediate

admission to the rites of initiation into the Mysteries, and

wished to go through all the stages of the

ceremony, from first to last, without delay.  This was

absolutely contrary to the rules, and a thing which had never

been allowed before; for the lesser mysteries were celebrated in

the month of Anthesterion, and the great solemnity in

Boedromion, and none of the novices were finally admitted till

they had completed a year after this latter.  Yet all this

notwithstanding, when in the public assembly these letters of

Demetrius were produced and read, there was not one single

person who had the courage to oppose them, except Pythodorus,

the torch-bearer.  But it signified nothing, for Stratocles at

once proposed that the month of Munychion, then current, should

by edict be reputed to be the month of Anthesterion; which being

voted and done, and Demetrius thereby admitted to the lesser

ceremonies, by another vote they turned the same month of

Munychion into the other month of Boedromion; the celebration of

the greater mysteries ensued, and Demetrius was fully admitted.

These proceedings gave the comedian, Philippides, a new occasion

to exercise his wit upon Stratocles,

whose flattering fear

Into one month hath crowded all the year.

And on the vote that Demetrius should lodge in the Parthenon,

Who turns the temple to a common inn,

And makes the Virgin's house a house of sin.

Of all the disreputable and flagitious acts of which he was

guilty in this visit, one that particularly hurt the feelings of

the Athenians was that, having given comment that they should

forthwith raise for his service two hundred and fifty talents,

and they to comply with his demands being forced to levy it upon

the people with the utmost rigor and severity, when they

presented him with the money, which they had with such

difficulty raised, as if it were a trifling sum, he ordered it

to be given to Lamia and the rest of his women, to buy soap.

The loss, which was bad enough, was less galling than the shame,

and the words more intolerable than the act which they

accompanied.  Though, indeed, the story is variously reported;

and some say it was the Thessalians, and not the Athenians, who

were thus treated.  Lamia, however, exacted contributions

herself to pay for an entertainment she gave to the king, and

her banquet was so renowned for its sumptuosity, that a

description of it was drawn up by the Samian writer, Lynceus.

Upon this occasion, one of the comic writers gave Lamia the name

of the real Helepolis; and Demochares of Soli called Demetrius

Mythus, because the fable always has its Lamia, and so had he.

And, in truth, his passion for this woman and the prosperity in

which she lived were such as to draw upon him not only the envy

and jealousy of all his wives, but the animosity even of his

friends.  For example, on Lysimachus's showing to some

ambassadors from Demetrius the scars of the wounds which he had

received upon his thighs and arms by the paws of the lion with

which Alexander had shut him up, after hearing his account of

the combat, they smiled and answered, that their king, also, was

not without his scars, but could show upon his neck the marks of

a Lamia, a no less dangerous beast.  It was also matter of

wonder that, though he had objected so much to Phila on account

of her age, he was yet such a slave to Lamia, who was so long

past her prime.  One evening at supper, when she played the

flute, Demetrius asked Demo, whom the men called Madness, what

she thought of her.  Demo answered she thought her an old woman.

And when a quantity of sweetmeats were brought in, and the king

said again, "See what presents I get from Lamia!"  "My old

mother," answered Demo, "will send you more, if you will make

her your mistress."  Another story is told of a criticism passed

by Lamia or the famous judgment of Bocchoris.  A young Egyptian

had long made suit to Thonis, the courtesan, offering a sum of

gold for her favor.  But before it came to pass, he dreamed one

night that he had obtained it, and, satisfied with the shadow,

felt no more desire for the substance.  Thonis upon this brought

an action for the sum.  Bocchoris, the judge, on hearing the

case, ordered the defendant to bring into court the full amount

in a vessel, which he was to move to and fro in his hand, and

the shadow of it was to be adjudged to Thonis.  The fairness of

this sentence Lamia contested, saying the young man's desire

might have been satisfied with the dream, but Thonis's desire

for the money could not be relieved by the shadow.  Thus much

for Lamia.

And now the story passes from the comic to the tragic stage in

pursuit of the acts and fortunes of its subject.  A general

league of the kings, who were now gathering and combining their

forces to attack Antigonus, recalled Demetrius from Greece.  He

was encouraged by finding his father full of a spirit and

resolution for the combat that belied his years.  Yet it would

seem to be true, that if Antigonus could only have borne to

make some trifling concessions, and if he had shown any

moderation in his passion for empire, he might have maintained

for himself till his death, and left to his son behind him, the

first place among the kings.  But he was of a violent and

haughty spirit; and the insulting words as well as actions in

which he allowed himself could not be borne by young and

powerful princes, and provoked them into combining against him.

Though now when he was told of the confederacy, he could not

forbear from saying that this flock of birds would soon be

scattered by one stone and a single shout.  He took the field at

the head of more than seventy thousand foot, and of ten thousand

horse, and seventy-five elephants.  His enemies had sixty-four

thousand foot, five hundred more horse than he, elephants to the

number of four hundred, and a hundred and twenty chariots.  On

their near approach to each other, an alteration began to be

observable, not in the purposes, but in the presentiments of

Antigonus.  For whereas in all former campaigns he had ever

shown himself lofty and confident, loud in voice and scornful in

speech, often by some joke or mockery on the eve of battle

expressing his contempt and displaying his composure, he was now

remarked to be thoughtful, silent, and retired.  He presented

Demetrius to the army, and declared him his successor; and what

everyone thought stranger than all was that he now conferred

alone in his tent with Demetrius, whereas in former time he had

never entered into any secret consultations even with him; but

had always followed his own advice, made his resolutions, and

then given out his commands.  Once when Demetrius was a boy and

asked him how soon the army would move, he is said to have

answered him sharply, "Are you afraid lest you, of all the army,

should not hear the trumpet?"

There were now, however, inauspicious signs, which affected his

spirits.  Demetrius, in a dream, had seen Alexander, completely

armed, appear and demand of him what word they intended to give

in the time of the battle; and Demetrius answering that he

intended the word should be "Jupiter and Victory."  "Then," said

Alexander, "I will go to your adversaries and find my welcome

with them."  And on the morning of the combat, as the armies

were drawing up, Antigonus, going out of the door of his tent,

by some accident or other, stumbled and fell flat upon the

ground, hurting himself a good deal.  And on recovering his

feet, lifting up his hands to heaven, he prayed the gods to

grant him "either victory, or death without knowledge of

defeat."  When the armies engaged, Demetrius, who commanded the

greatest and best part of the cavalry, made a charge on

Antiochus, the son of Seleucus, and, gloriously routing the

enemy, followed the pursuit, in the pride and exultation of

success, so eagerly, and so unwisely far, that it fatally lost

him the day, for when, perceiving his error, he would have come

in to the assistance of his own infantry, he was not able, the

enemy with their elephants having cut off his retreat.  And on

the other hand, Seleucus, observing the main battle of Antigonus

left naked of their horse, did not charge, but made a show of

charging; and keeping them in alarm and wheeling about and still

threatening an attack, he gave opportunity for those who wished

it to separate and come over to him; which a large body of them

did, the rest taking to flight.  But the old king Antigonus

still kept his post, and when a strong body of the enemies drew

up to charge him, and one of those about him cried out to him,

"Sir, they are coming upon you," he only replied, "What else

should they do? but Demetrius will come to my rescue."  And in

this hope he persisted to the last, looking out on every side

for his son's approach, until he was borne down by a whole

multitude of darts, and fell.  His other followers and friends

fled, and Thorax of Larissa remained alone by the body.

The battle having been thus decided, the kings who had gained

the victory, carving up the whole vast empire that had belonged

to Demetrius and Antigonus, like a carcass, into so many

portions, added these new gains to their former possessions.  As

for Demetrius, with five thousand foot and four thousand horse,

he fled at his utmost speed to Ephesus, where it was the common

opinion he would seize the treasures of the temple to relieve

his wants; but he, on the contrary, fearing such an attempt on

the part of his soldiers, hastened away, and sailed for Greece,

his chief remaining hopes being placed in the fidelity of the

Athenians, with whom he had left part of his navy and of his

treasure and his wife Deidamia.  And in their attachment he had

not the least doubt but he should in this his extremity find a

safe resource.  Accordingly when, upon reaching the Cyclades, he

was met by ambassadors from Athens, requesting him not to

proceed to the city, as the people had passed a vote to admit no

king whatever within their walls, and had conveyed Deidamia with

honorable attendance to Megara, his anger and surprise

overpowered him, and the constancy quite failed him which he had

hitherto shown in a wonderful degree under his reverses, nothing

humiliating or mean-spirited having as yet been seen in him

under all his misfortunes.  But to be thus disappointed in the

Athenians, and to find the friendship he had trusted prove, upon

trial, thus empty and unreal, was a great pang to him.  And, in

truth, an excessive display of outward honor would seem to be

the most uncertain attestation of the real affection of a people

for any king or potentate.  Such shows lose their whole credit

as tokens of affection (which has its virtue in the feelings and

moral choice), when we reflect that they may equally proceed

from fear.  The same decrees are voted upon the latter motive as

upon the former.  And therefore judicious men do not look so

much to statues, paintings, or divine honors that are paid them,

as to their own actions and conduct, judging hence whether they

shall trust these as a genuine, or discredit them as a forced

homage.  As in fact nothing is less unusual than for a people,

even while offering compliments, to be disgusted with those who

accept them greedily, or arrogantly, or without respect to the

freewill of the givers.

Demetrius, shamefully used as he thought himself, was in no

condition to revenge the affront.  He returned a message of

gentle expostulation, saying, however, that he expected to have

his galleys sent to him, among which was that of thirteen banks

of oars.  And this being accorded him, he sailed to the Isthmus,

and, finding his affairs in very ill condition, his garrisons

expelled, and a general secession going on to the enemy, he left

Pyrrhus to attend to Greece, and took his course to the

Chersonesus, where he ravaged the territories of Lysimachus,

and, by the booty which he took, maintained and kept together

his troops, which were now once more beginning to recover and to

show some considerable front.  Nor did any of the other princes

care to meddle with him on that side; for Lysimachus had quite

as little claim to be loved, and was more to be feared for his

power.  But, not long after, Seleucus sent to treat with

Demetrius for a marriage betwixt himself and Stratonice,

daughter of Demetrius by Phila.  Seleucus, indeed, had already,

by Apama the Persian, a son named Antiochus, but he was

possessed of territories that might well satisfy more than one

successor, and he was the rather induced to this alliance with

Demetrius, because Lysimachus had just married himself to one

daughter of king Ptolemy, and his son Agathocles to another.

Demetrius, who looked upon the offer as an unexpected piece of

good fortune, presently embarked with his daughter, and with his

whole fleet sailed for Syria.  Having during his voyage to touch

several times on the coast, among other places he landed in part

of Cilicia, which, by the apportionment of the kings after the

defeat of Antigonus, was allotted to Plistarchus, the brother of

Cassander.  Plistarchus, who took this descent of Demetrius upon

his coasts as an infraction of his rights, and was not sorry to

have something to complain of hastened away to expostulate in

person with Seleucus for entering separately into relations with

Demetrius, the common enemy, without consulting the other kings.

Demetrius, receiving information of this, seized the

opportunity, and fell upon the city of Quinda, which he

surprised, and took in it twelve hundred talents, still

remaining of the treasure.  With this prize, he hastened back to

his galleys, embarked, and set sail.  At Rhosus, where his wife

Phila was now with him, he was met by Seleucus, and their

communications with each other at once were put on a frank,

unsuspecting, and kingly footing.  First, Seleucus gave a

banquet to Demetrius in his tent in the camp; then Demetrius

received him in the ship of thirteen banks of oars.  Meetings

for amusements, conferences, and long visits for general

intercourse succeeded, all without attendants or arms; until at

length Seleucus took his leave, and in great state conducted

Stratonice to Antioch.  Demetrius meantime possessed himself of

Cilicia, and sent Phila to her brother Cassander, to answer the

complaints of Plistarchus.  And here his wife Deidamia came by

sea out of Greece to meet him, but not long after contracted an

illness, of which she died.  After her death, Demetrius, by the

mediation of Seleucus, became reconciled to Ptolemy, and an

agreement was made that he should marry his daughter Ptolemais.

Thus far all was handsomely done on the part of Seleucus.  But,

shortly after, desiring to have the province of Cilicia from

Demetrius for a sum of money, and being refused it, he then

angrily demanded of him the cities of Tyre and Sidon, which

seemed a mere piece of arbitrary dealing, and, indeed, an

outrageous thing, that he, who was possessed of all the vast

provinces between India and the Syrian sea, should think himself

so poorly off as for the sake of two cities, which he coveted,

to disturb the peace of his near connection, already a sufferer

under a severe reverse of fortune.  However, he did but justify

the saying of Plato, that the only certain way to be truly rich

is not to have more property, but fewer desires.  For whoever is

always grasping at more avows that he is still in want, and must

be poor in the midst of affluence.

But Demetrius, whose courage did not sink, resolutely sent him

answer, that, though he were to lose ten thousand battles like

that of Ipsus, he would pay no price for the good-will of such a

son-in-law as Seleucus.  He reinforced these cities with

sufficient garrisons to enable them to make a defense against

Seleucus; and, receiving information that Lachares, taking the

opportunity of their civil dissensions, had set up himself as an

usurper over the Athenians, he imagined that if he made a sudden

attempt upon the city, he might now without difficulty get

possession of it.  He crossed the sea in safety, with a large

fleet; but, passing along the coast of Attica, was met by a

violent storm, and lost the greater number of his ships, and a

very considerable body of men on board of them.  As for him, he

escaped, and began to make war in a petty manner with the

Athenians, but finding himself unable to effect his design, he

sent back orders for raising another fleet, and, with the troops

which he had, marched into Peloponnesus, and laid siege to the

city of Messena.  In attacking which place, he was in danger of

death; for a missile from an engine struck him in the face, and

passed through the cheek into his mouth.  He recovered, however,

and, as soon as he was in a condition to take the field, won

over divers cities which had revolted from him, and made an

incursion into Attica, where he took Eleusis and Rhamnus and

wasted the country thereabout.  And that he might straighten the

Athenians by cutting off all manner of provision, a vessel laden

with corn bound thither falling into his hands, he ordered the

master and the supercargo to be immediately hanged, thereby to

strike a terror into others, that so they might not venture to

supply the city with provisions.  By which means they were

reduced to such extremities, that a bushel of salt sold for

forty drachmas, and a peck of wheat for three hundred.  Ptolemy

had sent to their relief a hundred and fifty galleys, which came

so near as to be seen off Aegina; but this brief hope was soon

extinguished by the arrival of three hundred ships, which came

to reinforce Demetrius from Cyprus, Peloponnesus, and other

places; upon which Ptolemy's fleet took to flight, and Lachares,

the tyrant, ran away, leaving the city to its fate.

And now the Athenians, who before had made it capital for any

person to propose a treaty or accommodation with Demetrius,

immediately opened the nearest gates to send ambassadors to him,

not so much out of hopes of obtaining any honorable conditions

from his clemency as out of necessity, to avoid death by famine.

For among many frightful instances of the distress they were

reduced to, it is said that a father and son were sitting in a

room together, having abandoned every hope, when a dead mouse

fell from the ceiling; and for this prize they leaped up and

came to blows.  In this famine, it is also related, the

philosopher Epicurus saved his own life, and the lives of his

scholars, by a small quantity of beans, which he distributed to

them daily by number.

In this condition was the city when Demetrius made his entrance

and issued a proclamation that all the inhabitants should

assemble in the theater; which being done, he drew up his

soldiers at the back of the stage, occupied the stage itself

with his guards, and, presently coming in himself by the actor's

passages, when the people's consternation had risen to its

height, with his first words he put an end to it.  Without any

harshness of tone or bitterness of words, he reprehended them in

a gentle and friendly way, and declared himself reconciled,

adding a present of a hundred thousand bushels of wheat, and

appointing as magistrates persons acceptable to the people.  So

Dromoclides the orator, seeing the people at a loss how to

express their gratitude by any words or acclamations, and ready

for anything that would outdo the verbal encomiums of the

public speakers, came forward, and moved a decree for delivering

Piraeus and Munychia into the hands of king Demetrius.  This was

passed accordingly, and Demetrius, of his own motion, added a

third garrison, which he placed in the Museum, as a precaution

against any new restiveness on the part of the people, which

might give him the trouble of quitting his other enterprises.

He had not long been master of Athens before he had formed

designs against Lacedaemon; of which Archidamus, the king, being

advertised, came out and met him, but he was overthrown in a

battle near Mantinea; after which Demetrius entered Laconia,

and, in a second battle near Sparta itself, defeated him again

with the loss of two hundred Lacedaemonians slain, and five

hundred taken prisoners.  And now it was almost impossible for

the city, which hitherto had never been captured, to escape his

arms.  But certainly there never was any king upon whom fortune

made such short turns, nor any other life or story so filled

with her swift and surprising changes, over and over again, from

small things to great, from splendor back to humiliation, and

from utter weakness once more to power and might.  They say in

his sadder vicissitudes he used sometimes to apostrophize

fortune in the words of Aeschylus —

Thou liftest up, to cast us down again.

And so at this moment, when all things seemed to conspire

together to give him his heart's desire of dominion and power,

news arrived that Lysimachus had taken all his cities in Asia,

that Ptolemy had reduced all Cyprus with the exception of

Salamis, and that in Salamis his mother and children were shut

up and close besieged: and yet like the woman in Archilochus,

Water in one deceitful hand she shows,

While burning fire within her other glows.

The same fortune that drew him off with these disastrous tidings

from Sparta, in a moment after opened upon him a new and

wonderful prospect, of the following kind.  Cassander, king of

Macedon, dying, and his eldest son, Philip, who succeeded him,

not long surviving his father, the two younger brothers fell at

variance concerning the succession.  And Antipater having

murdered his mother Thessalonica, Alexander, the younger

brother, called in to his assistance Pyrrhus out of Epirus, and

Demetrius out of the Peloponnese.  Pyrrhus arrived first, and,

taking in recompense for his succor a large slice of Macedonia,

had made Alexander begin to be aware that he had brought upon

himself a dangerous neighbor.  And, that he might not run a yet

worse hazard from Demetrius, whose power and reputation were so

great, the young man hurried away to meet him at Dium, whither

he, who on receiving his letter had set out on his march, was

now come.  And, offering his greetings and grateful

acknowledgments, he at the same time informed him that his

affairs no longer required the presence of his ally, and

thereupon he invited him to supper.  There were not wanting some

feelings of suspicion on either side already; and when Demetrius

was now on his way to the banquet, someone came and told him

that in the midst of the drinking he would be killed.  Demetrius

showed little concern, but, making only a little less haste, he

sent to the principal officers of his army, commanding them to

draw out the soldiers, and make them stand to their arms, and

ordered his retinue (more numerous a good deal than that of

Alexander) to attend him into the very room of the entertainment,

and not to stir from thence till they saw him rise from the table.

Thus Alexander's servants, finding themselves overpowered,

had not courage to attempt anything.  And,

indeed, Demetrius gave them no opportunity, for he made a very

short visit, and, pretending to Alexander that he was not at

present in health for drinking wine, left early.  And the next

day he occupied himself in preparations for departing, telling

Alexander he had received intelligence that obliged him to

leave, and begging him to excuse so sudden a parting; he would

hope to see him further when his affairs allowed him leisure.

Alexander was only too glad, not only that he was going, but

that he was doing so of his own motion, without any offense, and

proposed to accompany him into Thessaly.  But when they came to

Larissa, new invitations passed between them, new professions of

good-will, covering new conspiracies; by which Alexander put

himself into the power of Demetrius.  For as he did not like to

use precautions on his own part, for fear Demetrius should take

the hint to use them on his, the very thing he meant to do was

first done to him.  He accepted an invitation, and came to

Demetrius's quarters; and when Demetrius, while they were still

supping, rose from the table and went forth, the young man rose

also, and followed him to the door, where Demetrius, as he

passed through, only said to the guards, "Kill him that follows

me," and went on; and Alexander was at once dispatched by them,

together with such of his friends as endeavored to come to his

rescue, one of whom, before he died, said, "You have been one

day too quick for us."

The night following was one, as may be supposed, of disorder and

confusion.  And with the morning, the Macedonians, still in

alarm, and fearful of the forces of Demetrius, on finding no

violence offered, but only a message sent from Demetrius

desiring an interview and opportunity for explanation of his

actions, at last began to feel pretty confident again, and

prepared to receive him favorably.  And when he came, there was

no need of much being said; their hatred of Antipater for his

murder of his mother, and the absence of anyone better to

govern them, soon decided them to proclaim Demetrius king of

Macedon.  And into Macedonia they at once started and took him.

And the Macedonians at home, who had not forgotten or forgiven

the wicked deeds committed by Cassander on the family of

Alexander, were far from sorry at the change.  Any kind

recollections that still might subsist, of the plain and simple

rule of the first Antipater, went also to the benefit of

Demetrius, whose wife was Phila, his daughter, and his son by

her, a boy already old enough to be serving in the army with his

father, was the natural successor to the government.

To add to this unexpected good fortune, news arrived that

Ptolemy had dismissed his mother and children, bestowing upon

them presents and honors; and also that his daughter Stratonice,

whom he had married to Seleucus, was remarried to Antiochus, the

son of Seleucus, and proclaimed queen of Upper Asia.

For Antiochus, it appears, had fallen passionately in love with

Stratonice, the young queen, who had already made Seleucus the

father of a son.  He struggled very hard with the beginnings of

this passion, and at last, resolving with himself that his

desires were wholly unlawful, his malady past all cure, and his

powers of reason too feeble to act, he determined on death, and

thought to bring his life slowly to extinction by neglecting his

person and refusing nourishment, under the pretense of being

ill.  Erasistratus, the physician who attended him, quickly

perceived that love was his distemper, but the difficulty was to

discover the object.  He therefore waited continually in his

chamber, and when any of the beauties of the court made their

visits to the sick prince, he observed the emotions and

alterations in the countenance of Antiochus, and watched for the

changes which he knew to be indicative of the inward passions

and inclinations of the soul.  He took notice that the presence

of other women produced no effect upon him; but when Stratonice

came, as she often did, alone, or in company with Seleucus, to

see him, he observed in him all Sappho's famous symptoms, his

voice faltered, his face flushed up, his eyes glanced

stealthily, a sudden sweat broke out on his skin, the beatings

of his heart were irregular and violent, and, unable to support

the excess of his passion, he would sink into a state of

faintness, prostration, and pallor.

Erasistratus, reasoning upon these symptoms, and, upon the

probability of things, considering that the king's son would

hardly, if the object of his passion had been any other, have

persisted to death rather than reveal it, felt, however, the

difficulty of making a discovery of this nature to Seleucus.

But, trusting to the tenderness of Seleucus for the young man,

he put on all the assurance he could, and at last, on some

opportunity, spoke out, and told him the malady was love, a love

impossible to gratify or relieve.  The king was extremely

surprised, and asked, "Why impossible to relieve?"  "The fact

is," replied Erasistratus, "he is in love with my wife."

"How!" said Seleucus, "and will our friend Erasistratus refuse to

bestow his wife upon my son and only successor, when there is no

other way to save his life?"  "You," replied Erasistratus, "who

are his father, would not do so, if he were in love with

Stratonice."  "Ah, my friend," answered Seleucus, "would to

heaven any means, human or divine, could but convert his present

passion to that; it would be well for me to part not only with

Stratonice, but with my empire, to save Antiochus."  This he

said with the greatest passion, shedding tears as he spoke; upon

which Erasistratus, taking him by the hand, replied, "In that

case, you have no need of Erasistratus; for you, who are the

husband, the father, and the king, are the proper physician for

your own family."  Seleucus, accordingly, summoning a general

assembly of his people, declared to them, that he had resolved

to make Antiochus king, and Stratonice queen, of all the

provinces of Upper Asia, uniting them in marriage; telling them,

that he thought he had sufficient power over the prince's will,

that he should find in him no repugnance to obey his commands;

and for Stratonice, he hoped all his friends would endeavor to

make her sensible, if she should manifest any reluctance to such

a marriage, that she ought to esteem those things just and

honorable which had been determined upon by the king as

necessary to the general good.  In this manner, we are told, was

brought about the marriage of Antiochus and Stratonice.

To return to the affairs of Demetrius.  Having obtained the

crown of Macedon, he presently became master of Thessaly also.

And, holding the greatest part of Peloponnesus, and, on this

side the Isthmus, the cities of Megara and Athens, he now turned

his arms against the Boeotians.  They at first made overtures

for an accommodation; but Cleonymus of Sparta having ventured

with some troops to their assistance, and having made his way

into Thebes, and Pisis, the Thespian, who was their first man in

power and reputation, animating them to make a brave resistance,

they broke off the treaty.  No sooner, however, had Demetrius

begun to approach the walls with his engines, but Cleonymus in

affright secretly withdrew; and the Boeotians, finding

themselves abandoned, made their submission.  Demetrius placed a

garrison in charge of their towns, and, having raised a large

sum of money from them, he placed Hieronymus, the historian, in

the office of governor and military commander over them, and was

thought on the whole to have shown great clemency, more

particularly to Pisis, to whom he did no hurt, but spoke with

him courteously and kindly, and made him chief magistrate of

Thespiae.  Not long after, Lysimachus was taken prisoner by

Dromichaetes, and Demetrius went off instantly in the hopes of

possessing himself of Thrace, thus left without a king.  Upon

this, the Boeotians revolted again, and news also came that

Lysimachus had regained his liberty.  So Demetrius, turning back

quickly and in anger, found on coming up that his son Antigonus

had already defeated the Boeotians in battle, and therefore

proceeded to lay siege again to Thebes.

But, understanding that Pyrrhus had made an incursion into

Thessaly, and that he was advanced as far as Thermopylae,

leaving Antigonus to continue the siege, he marched with the

rest of his army to oppose this enemy.  Pyrrhus, however, made a

quick retreat.  So, leaving ten thousand foot and a thousand

horse for the protection of Thessaly, he returned to the siege

of Thebes, and there brought up his famous City-taker to the

attack, which, however, was so laboriously and so slowly moved

on account of its bulk and heaviness, that in two months it did

not advance two furlongs.  In the meantime the citizens made a

stout defense, and Demetrius, out of heat and contentiousness

very often, more than upon any necessity, sent his soldiers into

danger; until at last Antigonus, observing how many men were

losing their lives, said to him, "Why, my father, do we go on

letting the men be wasted in this way, without any need of it?"

But Demetrius, in a great passion, interrupted him: "And you,

good sir, why do you afflict yourself for the matter? will dead

men come to you for rations?"  But that the soldiers might see

he valued his own life at no dearer rate than theirs, he exposed

himself freely, and was wounded with a javelin through his neck,

which put him into great hazard of his life.  But,

notwithstanding, he continued the siege, and in conclusion took

the town again.  And after his entrance, when the citizens were

in fear and trembling, and expected all the severities which an

incensed conqueror could indict, he only put to death thirteen,

and banished some few others, pardoning all the rest.  Thus the

city of Thebes, which had not yet been ten years restored, in

that short space was twice besieged and taken.

Shortly after, the festival of the Pythian Apollo was to be

celebrated, and the Aetolians having blocked up all the passages

to Delphi, Demetrius held the games and celebrated the feast at

Athens, alleging it was great reason those honors should be paid

in that place, Apollo being the paternal god of the Athenian

people, and the reputed first founder of their race.

From thence Demetrius returned to Macedon, and as he not only

was of a restless temper himself, but saw also that the

Macedonians were ever the best subjects when employed in

military expeditions, but turbulent and desirous of change in

the idleness of peace, he led them against the Aetolians, and,

having wasted their country, he left Pantauchus with a great

part of his army to complete the conquest, and with the rest he

marched in person to find out Pyrrhus, who in like manner was

advancing to encounter him.  But so it fell out, that by taking

different ways the two armies did not meet; but whilst Demetrius

entered Epirus, and laid all waste before him, Pyrrhus fell upon

Pantauchus, and, in a battle in which the two commanders met in

person and wounded each other, he gained the victory, and took

five thousand prisoners, besides great numbers slain on the

field.  The worst thing, however, for Demetrius was that Pyrrhus

had excited less animosity as an enemy than admiration as a

brave man.  His taking so large a part with his own hand in the

battle had gained him the greatest name and glory among the

Macedonians.  Many among them began to say that this was the

only king in whom there was any likeness to be seen of the great

Alexander's courage; the other kings, and particularly

Demetrius, did nothing but personate him, like actors on a

stage, in his pomp and outward majesty.  And Demetrius truly was

a perfect play and pageant, with his robes and diadems, his

gold-edged purple and his hats with double streamers, his very

shoes being of the richest purple felt, embroidered over in

gold.  One robe in particular, a most superb piece of work, was

long in the loom in preparation for him, in which was to be

wrought the representation of the universe and the celestial

bodies.  This, left unfinished when his reverses overtook him,

not any one of the kings of Macedon, his successors, though

divers of them haughty enough, ever presumed to use.

But it was not this theatric pomp alone which disgusted the

Macedonians, but his profuse and luxurious way of living; and,

above all, the difficulty of speaking with him or of obtaining

access to his presence.  For either he would not be seen at all,

or, if he did give audience, he was violent and overbearing.

Thus he made the envoys of the Athenians, to whom yet he was

more attentive than to all the other Grecians, wait two whole

years before they could obtain a hearing.  And when the

Lacedaemonians sent a single person on an embassy to him, he

held himself insulted, and asked angrily whether it was the fact

that the Lacedaemonians had sent but one ambassador.  "Yes," was

the happy reply he received, "one ambassador to one king."

Once when in some apparent fit of a more popular and acceptable

temper he was riding abroad, a number of people came up and

presented their written petitions.  He courteously received all

these, and put them up in the skirt of his cloak, while the poor

people were overjoyed, and followed him close.  But when he came

upon the bridge of the river Axius, shaking out his cloak, he

threw all into the river.  This excited very bitter resentment

among the Macedonians, who felt themselves to be not governed,

but insulted.  They called to mind what some of them had seen,

and others had heard related of King Philip's unambitious and

open, accessible manners.  One day when an old woman had

assailed him several times in the road and importuned him to

hear her, after he had told her he had no time, "If so," cried

she, "you have no time to be a king."  And this reprimand so

stung the king that after thinking of it a while he went back

into the house, and, setting all other matters apart, for

several days together he did nothing else but receive, beginning

with the old woman, the complaints of all that would come.  And

to do justice, truly enough, might well be called a king's first

business.  "Mars," as says Timotheus, "is the tyrant;" but Law,

in Pindar's words, the king of all.  Homer does not say that

kings received at the hands of Jove besieging engines or ships

of war, but sentences of justice, to keep and observe; nor is it

the most warlike, unjust, and murderous, but the most righteous

of kings, that has from him the name of Jupiter's "familiar

friend" and scholar.  Demetrius's delight was the title most

unlike the choices of the king of gods.  The divine names were

those of the Defender and Keeper, his was that of the Besieger

of Cities. The place of virtue was given by him to that which,

had he not been as ignorant as he was powerful, he would have

known to be vice, and honor by his act was associated with

crime.  While he lay dangerously ill at Pella, Pyrrhus pretty

nearly overran all Macedon, and advanced as far as the city of

Edessa.  On recovering his health, he quickly drove him out, and

came to terms with him, being desirous not to employ his time in

a string of petty local conflicts with a neighbor, when all his

thoughts were fixed upon another design.  This was no less than

to endeavor the recovery of the whole empire which his father

had possessed; and his preparations were suitable to his hopes,

and the greatness of the enterprise.  He had arranged for the

levying of ninety-eight thousand foot, and nearly twelve

thousand horse; and he had a fleet of five hundred galleys on

the stocks, some building at Athens, others at Corinth and

Chalcis, and in the neighborhood of Pella.  And he himself was

passing evermore from one to another of these places, to give

his directions and his assistance to the plans, while all that

saw were amazed, not so much at the number, as at the magnitude

of the works.  Hitherto, there had never been seen a galley with

fifteen or sixteen ranges of oars.  At a later time, Ptolemy

Philopator built one of forty rows, which was two hundred and

eighty cubits in length, and the height of her to the top of her

stern forty eight cubits; she had four hundred sailors and four

thousand rowers, and afforded room besides for very near three

thousand soldiers to fight on her decks.  But this, after all,

was for show, and not for service, scarcely differing from a

fixed edifice ashore, and was not to be moved without extreme

toil and peril; whereas these galleys of Demetrius were meant

quite as much for fighting as for looking at, were not the less

serviceable for their magnificence, and were as wonderful for

their speed and general performance as for their size.

These mighty preparations against Asia, the like of which had

not been made since Alexander first invaded it, united Seleucus,

Ptolemy, and Lysimachus in a confederacy for their defense.

They also dispatched ambassadors to Pyrrhus, to persuade him to

make a diversion by attacking Macedonia; he need not think there

was any validity in a treaty which Demetrius had concluded, not

as an engagement to be at peace with him, but as a means for

enabling himself to make war first upon the enemy of his choice.

So when Pyrrhus accepted their proposals, Demetrius, still in

the midst of his preparations, was encompassed with war on all

sides.  Ptolemy, with a mighty navy, invaded Greece; Lysimachus

entered Macedonia upon the side of Thrace, and Pyrrhus, from the

Epirot border, both of them spoiling and wasting the country.

Demetrius, leaving his son to look after Greece, marched to the

relief of Macedon, and first of all to oppose Lysimachus.  On

his way, he received the news that Pyrrhus had taken the city

Beroea; and the report quickly getting out among the soldiers,

all discipline at once was lost, and the camp was filled with

lamentations and tears, anger and execrations on Demetrius; they

would stay no longer, they would march off, as they said, to

take care of their country, friends, and families; but in

reality the intention was to revolt to Lysimachus.  Demetrius,

therefore, thought it his business to keep them as far away as

he could from Lysimachus, who was their own countryman, and for

Alexander's sake kindly looked upon by many; they would be ready

to fight with Pyrrhus, a new-comer and a foreigner, whom they

could hardly prefer to himself.  But he found himself under a

great mistake in these conjectures.  For when he advanced and

pitched his camp near, the old admiration for Pyrrhus's

gallantry in arms revived again; and as they had been used from

time immemorial to suppose that the best king was he that was

the bravest soldier, so now they were also told of his generous

usage of his prisoners, and, in short, they were eager to have

anyone in the place of Demetrius, and well pleased that the man

should be Pyrrhus.  At first, some straggling parties only

deserted, but in a little time the whole army broke out into an

universal mutiny, insomuch that at last some of them went up,

and told him openly that if he consulted his own safety he were

best to make haste to be gone, for that the Macedonians were

resolved no longer to hazard their lives for the satisfaction of

his luxury and pleasure.  And this was thought fair and moderate

language, compared with the fierceness of the rest.  So,

withdrawing into his tent, and, like an actor rather than a real

king, laying aside his stage-robes of royalty, he put on some

common clothes and stole away.  He was no sooner gone but the

mutinous army were fighting and quarreling for the plunder of

his tent, but Pyrrhus, coming immediately, took possession of

the camp without a blow, after which he, with Lysimachus, parted

the realm of Macedon betwixt them, after Demetrius had securely

held it just seven years.

As for Demetrius, being thus suddenly despoiled of everything,

he retired to Cassandrea.  His wife Phila, in the passion of her

grief, could not endure to see her hapless husband reduced to

the condition of a private and banished man.  She refused to

entertain any further hope, and, resolving to quit a fortune

which was never permanent except for calamity, took poison and

died.  Demetrius, determining still to hold on by the wreck,

went off to Greece, and collected his friends and officers

there.  Menelaus, in the play of Sophocles, to give an image of

his vicissitudes of estate, says, —

For me, my destiny, alas, is found

Whirling upon the gods' swift wheel around,

And changing still, and as the moon's fair frame

Cannot continue for two nights the same,

But out of shadow first a crescent shows,

Thence into beauty and perfection grows,

And when the form of plenitude it wears,

Dwindles again, and wholly disappears.

The simile is yet truer of Demetrius and the phases of his

fortunes, now on the increase, presently on the wane, now

filling up and now falling away.  And so, at this time of

apparent entire obscuration and extinction, his light again

shone out, and accessions of strength, little by little, came in

to fulfill once more the measure of his hope.  At first he

showed himself in the garb of a private man, and went about the

cities without any of the badges of a king.  One who saw him

thus at Thebes applied to him not inaptly, the lines of

Euripides,

Humbled to man, laid by the godhead's pride,

He comes to Dirce and Ismenus' side.

But erelong his expectations had reentered the royal track, and

he began once more to have about him the body and form of

empire.  The Thebans received back, as his gift, their ancient

constitution.  The Athenians had deserted him.  They displaced

Diphilus, who was that year the priest of the two Tutelar

Deities, and restored the archons, as of old, to mark the year;

and on hearing that Demetrius was not so weak as they had

expected, they sent into Macedonia to beg the protection of

Pyrrhus.  Demetrius, in anger, marched to Athens, and laid close

siege to the city.  In this distress, they sent out to him

Crates the philosopher, a person of authority and reputation,

who succeeded so far, that what with his entreaties and the

solid reasons which he offered, Demetrius was persuaded to raise

the siege; and, collecting all his ships, he embarked a force of

eleven thousand men with cavalry, and sailed away to Asia, to

Caria and Lydia, to take those provinces from Lysimachus.

Arriving at Miletus, he was met there by Eurydice, the sister of

Phila, who brought along with her Ptolemais, one of her

daughters by king Ptolemy, who had before been affianced to

Demetrius, and with whom he now consummated his marriage.

Immediately after, he proceeded to carry out his project, and

was so fortunate in the beginning, that many cities revolted to

him; others, as particularly Sardis, he took by force; and some

generals of Lysimachus, also, came over to him with troops and

money.  But when Agathocles, the son of Lysimachus, arrived with

an army, he retreated into Phrygia, with an intention to pass

into Armenia, believing that, if he could once plant his foot in

Armenia, he might set Media in revolt, and gain a position in

Upper Asia, where a fugitive commander might find a hundred ways

of evasion and escape.  Agathocles pressed hard upon him, and

many skirmishes and conflicts occurred, in which Demetrius had

still the advantage; but Agathocles straitened him much in his

forage, and his men showed a great dislike to his purpose, which

they suspected, of carrying them far away into Armenia and

Media.  Famine also pressed upon them, and some mistake occurred

in their passage of the river Lycus, in consequence of which a

large number were swept away and drowned.  Still, however, they

could pass their jests, and one of them fixed upon Demetrius's

tent-door a paper with the first verse, slightly altered of the

Oedipus; —

Child of the blind old man, Antigonus,

Into what country are you bringing us?

But at last, pestilence, as is usual, when armies are driven to

such necessities as to subsist upon any food they can get, began

to assail them as well as famine.  So that, having lost eight

thousand of his men, with the rest he retreated and came to

Tarsus, and because that city was within the dominions of

Seleucus, he was anxious to prevent any plundering, and wished

to give no sort of offense to Seleucus.  But when he perceived

it was impossible to restrain the soldiers in their extreme

necessity, Agathocles also having blocked up all the avenues of

Mount Taurus, he wrote a letter to Seleucus, bewailing first all

his own sad fortunes, and proceeding with entreaties and

supplications for some compassion on his part towards one

nearly connected with him, who was fallen into such calamities

as might extort tenderness and

pity from his very enemies.

These letters so far moved Seleucus, that he gave orders to the

governors of those provinces that they should furnish Demetrius

with all things suitable to his royal rank, and with sufficient

provisions for his troops.  But Patrocles, a person whose

judgment was greatly valued, and who was a friend highly trusted

by Seleucus, pointed out to him, that the expense of maintaining

such a body of soldiers was the least important consideration,

but that it was contrary to all policy to let Demetrius stay in

the country, since he, of all the kings of his time, was the

most violent, and most addicted to daring enterprises; and he

was now in a condition which might tempt persons of the greatest

temper and moderation to unlawful and desperate attempts.

Seleucus, excited by this advice, moved with a powerful army

towards Cilicia; and Demetrius, astonished at this sudden

alteration, betook himself for safety to the most inaccessible

places of Mount Taurus; from whence he sent envoys to Seleucus,

to request from him that he would permit him the liberty to

settle with his army somewhere among the independent barbarian

tribes, where he might be able to make himself a petty king, and

end his life without further travel and hardship; or, if he

refused him this, at any rate to give his troops food during the

winter, and not expose him in this distressed and naked

condition to the fury of his enemies.

But Seleucus, whose jealousy made him put an ill construction on

all he said, sent him answer, that he would permit him to stay

two months and no longer in Cataonia, provided he presently sent

him the principal of his friends as hostages for his departure

then; and, in the meantime, he fortified all the passages into

Syria.  So that Demetrius, who saw himself thus, like a wild

beast, in the way to be encompassed on all sides in the toils,

was driven in desperation to his defense, overran the country,

and in several engagements in which Seleucus attacked him, had

the advantage of him.  Particularly, when he was once assailed

by the scythed chariots, he successfully avoided the charge and

routed his assailants, and then, expelling the troops that were

in guard of the passes, made himself master of the roads leading

into Syria.  And now, elated himself, and finding his soldiers

also animated by these successes, he was resolved to push at

all, and to have one deciding blow for the empire with Seleucus;

who, indeed, was in considerable anxiety and distress, being

averse to any assistance from Lysimachus, whom he both

mistrusted and feared, and shrinking from a battle with

Demetrius, whose desperation he knew, and whose fortune he had

so often seen suddenly pass from the lowest to the highest.

But Demetrius, in the meanwhile, was taken with a violent

sickness, from which he suffered extremely himself, and which

ruined all his prospects.  His men deserted to the enemy, or

dispersed.  At last, after forty days, he began to be so far

recovered as to be able to rally his remaining forces, and

marched as if he directly designed for Cilicia; but in the

night, raising his camp without sound of trumpet, he took a

countermarch, and, passing the mountain Amanus, he ravaged an

the lower country as far as Cyrrhestica.

Upon this, Seleucus advancing towards him and encamping at no

great distance, Demetrius set his troops in motion to surprise

him by night.  And almost to the last moment Seleucus knew

nothing, and was lying asleep.  Some deserter came with the

tidings just so soon that he had time to leap, in great

consternation, out of bed, and give the alarm to his men.  And

as he was putting on his boots to mount his horse, he bade the

officers about him look well to it, for they had to meet a

furious and terrible wild beast.  But Demetrius, by the noise he

heard in the camp, finding they had taken the alarm, drew off

his troops in haste.  With the morning's return he found

Seleucus pressing hard upon him; so, sending one of his officers

against the other wing, he defeated those that were opposed to

himself.  But Seleucus, lighting from his horse, pulling off his

helmet, and taking a target, advanced to the foremost ranks of

the mercenary soldiers, and, showing them who he was, bade them

come over and join him, telling them that it was for their sakes

only that he had so long forborne coming to extremities.  And

thereupon, without a blow more, they saluted Seleucus as their

king, and passed over.

Demetrius, who felt that this was his last change of fortune,

and that he had no more vicissitudes to expect, fled to the

passes of Amanus, where, with a very few friends and followers,

he threw himself into a dense forest, and there waited for the

night, purposing, if possible, to make his escape towards

Caunus, where he hoped to find his shipping ready to transport

him.  But upon inquiry, finding that they had not provisions

even for that one day, he began to think of some other project.

Whilst he was yet in doubt, his friend Sosigenes arrived, who

had four hundred pieces of gold about him, and, with this

relief, he again entertained hopes of being able to reach the

coast, and, as soon as it began to be dark, set forward towards

the passes.  But, perceiving by the fires that the enemies had

occupied them, he gave up all thought of that road, and

retreated to his old station in the wood, but not with all his

men; for some had deserted, nor were those that remained as

willing as they had been.  One of them, in fine, ventured to

speak out, and say that Demetrius had better give himself up to

Seleucus; which Demetrius overhearing, drew out his sword, and

would have passed it through his body, but that some of his

friends interposed and prevented the attempt, persuading him to

do as had been said.  So at last he gave way, and sent to

Seleucus, to surrender himself at discretion.

Seleucus, when he was told of it, said it was not Demetrius's

good fortune that had found out this means for his safety, but

his own, which had added to his other honors the opportunity of

showing his clemency and generosity.  And forthwith he gave

order to his domestic officers to prepare a royal pavilion, and

all things suitable to give him a splendid reception and

entertainment.  There was in the attendance of Seleucus one

Apollonides, who formerly had been intimate with Demetrius.  He

was, therefore, as the fittest person, dispatched from the king

to meet Demetrius, that he might feel himself more at his ease,

and might come with the confidence of being received as a friend

and relative.  No sooner was this message known, but the

courtiers and officers, some few at first, and afterwards almost

the whole of them, thinking, Demetrius would presently become

of great power with the king, hurried off, vying who should be

foremost to pay him their respects.  The effect of which was

that compassion was converted into jealousy, and ill-natured,

malicious people could the more easily insinuate to Seleucus

that he was giving way to an unwise humanity, the very first

sight of Demetrius having been the occasion of a dangerous

excitement in the army.  So, whilst Apollonides, in great

delight, and after him many others, were relating to Demetrius

the kind expressions of Seleucus, and he, after so many troubles

and calamities, if indeed he had still any sense of his

surrender of himself being a disgrace, had now, in confidence on

the good hopes held out to him, entirely forgotten all such

thoughts, Pausanias, with a guard of a thousand horse and foot,

came and surrounded him; and, dispersing the rest that were with

him, carried him, not to the presence of Seleucus, but to the

Syrian Chersonese, where he was committed to the safe custody

of a strong guard.  Sufficient attendance and liberal provision

were here allowed him, space for riding and walking, a park with

game for hunting, those of his friends and companions in exile

who wished it had permission to see him, and messages of

kindness, also, from time to time, were brought him from

Seleucus, bidding him fear nothing, and intimating, that, so

soon as Antiochus and Stratonice should arrive, he would receive

his liberty.

Demetrius, however, finding himself in this condition, sent

letters to those who were with his son, and to his captains and

friends at Athens and Corinth, that they should give no manner

of credit to any letters written to them in his name, though

they were sealed with his own signet, but that, looking upon him

as if he were already dead, they should maintain the cities and

whatever was left of his power, for Antigonus, as his successor.

Antigonus received the news of his father's captivity with great

sorrow; he put himself into mourning, and wrote letters to the

rest of the kings, and to Seleucus himself, making entreaties,

and offering not only to surrender whatever they had left, but

himself to be a hostage for his father.  Many cities, also, and

princes joined in interceding for him; only Lysimachus sent and

offered a large sum of money to Seleucus to take away his life.

But he, who had always shown his aversion to Lysimachus before,

thought him only the greater barbarian and monster for it.

Nevertheless, he still protracted the time, reserving the favor,

as he professed, for the intercession of Antiochus and

Stratonice.

Demetrius, who had sustained the first stroke of his misfortune,

in time grew so familiar with it, that, by continuance, it

became easy.  At first he persevered one way or other in taking

exercise, in hunting, so far as he had means, and in riding.

Little by little, however, after a while, he let himself grow

indolent and indisposed for them, and took to dice and drinking,

in which he passed most of his time, whether it were to escape

the thoughts of his present condition, with which he was haunted

when sober, and to drown reflection in drunkenness, or that he

acknowledged to himself that this was the real happy life he had

long desired and wished for, and had foolishly let himself be

seduced away from it by a senseless and vain ambition, which had

only brought trouble to himself and others; that highest good

which he had thought to obtain by arms and fleets and soldiers,

he had now discovered unexpectedly in idleness, leisure, and

repose.  As, indeed, what other end or period is there of all

the wars and dangers which hapless princes run into, whose

misery and folly it is, not merely that they make luxury and

pleasure, instead of virtue and excellence, the object of their

lives, but that they do not so much as know where this luxury

and pleasure are to be found?

Having thus continued three years a prisoner in Chersonesus, for

want of exercise, and by indulging himself in eating and

drinking, he fell into a disease, of which he died at the age of

fifty-four.  Seleucus was ill-spoken of, and was himself greatly

grieved, that he had yielded so far to his suspicions, and had

let himself be so much outdone by the barbarian Dromichaetes of

Thrace, who had shown so much humanity and such a kingly temper

in his treatment of his prisoner Lysimachus.

There was something dramatic and theatrical in the very funeral

ceremonies with which Demetrius was honored.  For his son

Antigonus, understanding that his remains were coming over from

Syria, went with all his fleet to the islands to meet them.

They were there presented to him in a golden urn, which he

placed in his largest admiral galley.  All the cities where they

touched in their passage sent chaplets to adorn the urn, and

deputed certain of their citizens to follow in mourning, to

assist at the funeral solemnity.  When the fleet approached the

harbor of Corinth, the urn, covered with purple, and a royal

diadem upon it, was visible upon the poop, and a troop of young

men attended in arms to receive it at landing Xenophantus, the

most famous musician of the day, played on the flute his most

solemn measure, to which the rowers, as the ship came in, made

loud response, their oars, like the funeral beating of the

breast, keeping time with the cadences of the music.  But

Antigonus, in tears and mourning attire, excited among the

spectators gathered on the shore the greatest sorrow and

compassion.  After crowns and other honors had been offered at

Corinth, the remains were conveyed to Demetrias, a city to which

Demetrius had given his name, peopled from the inhabitants of

the small villages of Iolcus.

Demetrius left no other children by his wife Phila but Antigonus

and Stratonice, but he had two other sons, both of his own name,

one surnamed the Thin, by an Illyrian mother, and one who ruled

in Cyrene, by Ptolemais.  He had also, by Deidamia, a son,

Alexander, who lived and died in Egypt; and there are some who

say that he had a son by Eurydice, named Corrhabus.  His family

was continued in a succession of kings down to Perseus, the

last, from whom the Romans took Macedonia.

And now, the Macedonian drama being ended, let us prepare to see

the Roman.

ANTONY

The grandfather of Antony was the famous pleader, whom Marius

put to death for having taken part with Sylla.  His father was

Antony, surnamed of Crete, not very famous or distinguished in

public life, but a worthy, good man, and particularly remarkable

for his liberality, as may appear from a single example.  He was

not very rich, and was for that reason checked in the exercise

of his good-nature by his wife.  A friend that stood in need of

money came to borrow of him.  Money he had none, but he bade a

servant bring him water in a silver basin, with which, when it

was brought, he wetted his face, as if he meant to shave; and,

sending away the servant upon another errand, gave his friend

the basin, desiring him to turn it to his purpose.  And when

there was, afterwards, a great inquiry for it in the house, and

his wife was in a very ill humor, and was going to put the

servants one by one to the search, he acknowledged what he had

done, and begged her pardon.

His wife was Julia, of the family of the Caesars, who, for her

discretion and fair behavior, was not inferior to any of her

time.  Under her, Antony received his education, she being,

after the death of his father, remarried to Cornelius Lentulus.

who was put to death by Cicero for having been of Catiline's

conspiracy.  This, probably, was the first ground and occasion

of that mortal grudge that Antony bore Cicero.  He says, even,

that the body of Lentulus was denied burial, till, by

application made to Cicero's wife, it was granted to Julia.  But

this seems to be a manifest error, for none of those that

suffered in the consulate of Cicero had the right of burial

denied them.  Antony grew up a very beautiful youth, but, by the

worst of misfortunes, he fell into the acquaintance and

friendship of Curio, a man abandoned to his pleasures; who, to

make Antony's dependence upon him a matter of greater necessity,

plunged him into a life of drinking and dissipation, and led him

through a course of such extravagance, that he ran, at that

early age, into debt to the amount of two hundred and fifty

talents.  For this sum, Curio became his surety; on hearing

which, the elder Curio, his father, drove Antony out of his

house.  After this, for some short time, he took part with

Clodius, the most insolent and outrageous demagogue of the time,

in his course of violence and disorder; but, getting weary,

before long, of his madness, and apprehensive of the powerful

party forming against him, he left Italy, and traveled into

Greece, where he spent his time in military exercises and in the

study of eloquence.  He took most to what was called the Asiatic

taste in speaking, which was then at its height, and was, in

many ways, suitable to his ostentatious, vaunting temper, full

of empty flourishes and unsteady efforts for glory.

After some stay in Greece, he was invited by Gabinius, who had

been consul, to make a campaign with him in Syria, which at

first he refused, not being willing to serve in a private

character, but, receiving a commission to command the horse, he

went along with him.  His first service was against Aristobulus,

who had prevailed with the Jews to rebel.  Here he was himself

the first man to scale the largest of the works, and beat

Aristobulus out of all of them; after which he routed, in a

pitched battle, an army many times over the number of his,

killed almost all of them, and took Aristobulus and his son

prisoners.  This war ended, Gabinius was solicited by Ptolemy to

restore him to his kingdom of Egypt, and a promise made of ten

thousand talents reward.  Most of the officers were against this

enterprise, and Gabinius himself did not much like it, though

sorely tempted by the ten thousand talents.  But Antony,

desirous of brave actions, and willing to please Ptolemy, joined

in persuading Gabinius to go.  And whereas all were of opinion

that the most dangerous thing before them was the march to

Pelusium, in which they would have to pass over a deep sand,

where no fresh water was to be hoped for, along the Ecregma and

the Serbonian marsh (which the Egyptians call Typhon's

breathing-hole, and which is, in probability, water left behind

by, or making its way through from, the Red Sea, which is here

divided from the Mediterranean by a narrow isthmus), Antony,

being ordered thither with the horse, not only made himself

master of the passes, but won Pelusium itself, a great city,

took the garrison prisoners, and, by this means, rendered the

march secure to the army, and the way to victory not difficult

for the general to pursue.  The enemy, also, reaped some benefit

of his eagerness for honor.  For when Ptolemy, after he had

entered Pelusium, in his rage and spite against the Egyptians,

designed to put them to the sword, Antony withstood him, and

hindered the execution.  In all the great and frequent

skirmishes and battles, he gave continual proofs of his

personal valor and military conduct; and once in particular, by

wheeling about and attacking the rear of the enemy, he gave the

victory to the assailants in the front, and received for this

service signal marks of distinction.  Nor was his humanity

towards the deceased Archelaus less taken notice of.  He had

been formerly his guest and acquaintance, and, as he was now

compelled, he fought him bravely while alive, but, on his death,

sought out his body and buried it with royal honors.  The

consequence was that he left behind him a great name among the

Alexandrians, and all who were serving in the Roman army looked

upon him as a most gallant soldier.

He had also a very good and noble appearance; his beard was well

grown, his forehead large, and his nose aquiline, giving him

altogether a bold, masculine look, that reminded people of the

faces of Hercules in paintings and sculptures.  It was,

moreover, an ancient tradition, that the Antonys were descended

from Hercules, by a son of his called Anton; and this opinion he

thought to give credit to, by the similarity of his person just

mentioned, and also by the fashion of his dress.  For, whenever

he had to appear before large numbers, he wore his tunic girt

low about the hips, a broadsword on his side, and over all a

large, coarse mantle.  What might seem to some very

insupportable, his vaunting, his raillery, his drinking in

public, sitting down by the men as they were taking their food,

and eating, as he stood, off the common soldiers' tables, made

him the delight and pleasure of the army.  In love affairs,

also, he was very agreeable; he gained many friends by the

assistance he gave them in theirs, and took other people's

raillery upon his own with good-humor.  And his generous ways,

his open and lavish hand in gifts and favors to his friends and

fellow-soldiers, did a great deal for him in his first advance

to power, and, after he had become great, long maintained his

fortunes, when a thousand follies were hastening their

overthrow.  One instance of his liberality I must relate.  He

had ordered payment to one of his friends of twenty-five myriads

of money, or decies, as the Romans call it, and his steward,

wondering at the extravagance of the sum, laid all the silver in

a heap, as he should pass by.  Antony, seeing the heap, asked

what it meant; his steward replied, "The money you have ordered

to be given to your friend."  So, perceiving the man's malice,

said he, "I thought the decies had been much more; 't is too

little; let it be doubled."  This, however, was at a later time.

When the Roman state finally broke up into two hostile factions,

the aristocratical party joining Pompey, who was in the city,

and the popular side seeking help from Caesar, who was at the

head of an army in Gaul, Curio, the friend of Antony, having

changed his party and devoted himself to Caesar, brought over

Antony also to his service.  And the influence which he gained

with the people by his eloquence and by the money which was

supplied by Caesar enabled him to make Antony, first, tribune of

the people, and then, augur.  And Antony's accession to office

was at once of the greatest advantage to Caesar.  In the first

place, he resisted the consul Marcellus, who was putting under

Pompey's orders the troops who were already collected, and was

giving him power to raise new levies; he, on the other hand,

making an order that they should be sent into Syria to reinforce

Bibulus, who was making war with the Parthians, and that no one

should give in his name to serve under Pompey.  Next, when the

senators would not suffer Caesar's letters to be received or

read in the senate, by virtue of his office he read them

publicly, and succeeded so well, that many were brought to

change their mind; Caesar's demands, as they appeared in what he

wrote, being but just and reasonable.  At length, two questions

being put in the senate, the one, whether Pompey should dismiss

his army, the other, if Caesar his, some were for the former,

for the latter all, except some few, when Antony stood up and

put the question, if it would be agreeable to them that both

Pompey and Caesar should dismiss their armies.  This proposal

met with the greatest approval, they gave him loud acclamations,

and called for it to be put to the vote.  But when the consuls

would not have it so, Caesar's friends again made some new

offers, very fair and equitable, but were strongly opposed by

Cato, and Antony himself was commanded to leave the senate by

the consul Lentulus.  So, leaving them with execrations, and

disguising himself in a servant's dress, hiring a carriage with

Quintus Cassius, he went straight away to Caesar, declaring at

once, when they reached the camp, that affairs at Rome were

conducted without any order or justice, that the privilege of

speaking in the senate was denied the tribunes, and that he who

spoke for common fair dealing was driven out and in danger of

his life.

Upon this, Caesar set his army in motion, and marched into

Italy; and for this reason it is that Cicero writes in his

Philippics, that Antony was as much the cause of the civil war,

as Helen was of the Trojan.  But this is but a calumny.  For

Caesar was not of so slight or weak a temper as to suffer

himself to be carried away, by the indignation of the moment,

into a civil war with his country, upon the sight of Antony and

Cassius seeking refuge in his camp, meanly dressed and in a

hired carriage, without ever having thought of it or taken any

such resolution long before.  This was to him, who wanted a

pretense of declaring war, a fair and plausible occasion; but

the true motive that led him was the same that formerly led

Alexander and Cyrus against all mankind, the unquenchable thirst

of empire, and the distracted ambition of being the greatest man

in the world, which was impracticable for him, unless Pompey

were put down.  So soon, then, as he had advanced and occupied

Rome, and driven Pompey out of Italy, he purposed first to go

against the legions that Pompey had in Spain, and then cross

over and follow him with the fleet that should be prepared

during his absence, in the meantime leaving the government of

Rome to Lepidus, as praetor, and the command of the troops and

of Italy to Antony, as tribune of the people.  Antony was not

long in getting the hearts of the soldiers, joining with them in

their exercises, and for the most part living amongst them, and

making them presents to the utmost of his abilities; but with

all others he was unpopular enough.  He was too lazy to pay

attention to the complaints of persons who were injured; he

listened impatiently to petitions; and he had an ill name for

familiarity with other people's wives.  In short, the government

of Caesar (which, so far as he was concerned himself, had the

appearance of anything rather than a tyranny), got a bad repute

through his friends.  And of these friends, Antony, as he had

the largest trust, and committed the greatest errors, was

thought the most deeply in fault.

Caesar, however, at his return from Spain, overlooked the

charges against him, and had no reason ever to complain, in the

employments he gave him in the war, of any want of courage,

energy, or military skill.  He himself, going aboard at

Brundusium, sailed over the Ionian Sea with a few troops, and

sent back the vessels with orders to Antony and Gabinius to

embark the army, and come over with all speed into Macedonia.

Gabinius, having no mind to put to sea in the rough, dangerous

weather of the winter season, was for marching the army round by

the long land route; but Antony, being more afraid lest Caesar

might suffer from the number of his enemies, who pressed him

hard, beat back Libo, who was watching with a fleet at the mouth

of the haven of Brundusium, by attacking his galleys with a

number of small boats, and, gaining thus an opportunity, put on

board twenty thousand foot and eight hundred horse, and so set

out to sea.  And, being espied by the enemy and pursued, from

this danger he was rescued by a strong south wind, which sprang

up and raised so high a sea, that the enemy's galleys could make

little way.  But his own ships were driving before it upon a lee

shore of cliffs and rocks running sheer to the water, where

there was no hope of escape, when all of a sudden the wind

turned about to south-west, and blew from land to the main sea,

where Antony, now sailing in security, saw the coast all covered

with the wreck of the enemy's fleet.  For hither the galleys in

pursuit had been carried by the gale, and not a few of them

dashed to pieces.  Many men and much property fell into Antony's

hands; he took also the town of Lissus, and, by the seasonable

arrival of so large a reinforcement, gave Caesar great

encouragement.

There was not one of the many engagements that now took place

one after another in which he did not signalize himself; twice

he stopped the army in its full flight, led them back to a

charge, and gained the victory.  So that not without reason his

reputation, next to Caesar's, was greatest in the army.  And what

opinion Caesar himself had of him well appeared when for the

final battle in Pharsalia, which was to determine everything,

he himself chose to lead the right wing, committing the

charge of the left to Antony, as to the best officer of all that

served under him.  After the battle, Caesar, being created

dictator, went in pursuit of Pompey, and sent Antony to Rome,

with the character of Master of the Horse, who is in office and

power next to the dictator, when present, and in his absence is

the first, and pretty nearly indeed the sole magistrate.  For on

the appointment of a dictator, with the one exception of the

tribunes, all other magistrates cease to exercise any authority

in Rome.

Dolabella, however, who was tribune, being a young man and eager

for change, was now for bringing in a general measure for

canceling debts, and wanted Antony, who was his friend, and

forward enough to promote any popular project, to take part with

him in this step.  Asinius and Trebellius were of the contrary

opinion, and it so happened, at the same time, Antony was

crossed by a terrible suspicion that Dolabella was too familiar

with his wife; and in great trouble at this, he parted with her

(she being his cousin, and daughter to Caius Antonius, the

colleague of Cicero), and, taking part with Asinius, came to

open hostilities with Dolabella, who had seized on the forum,

intending to pass his law by force.  Antony, backed by a vote of

the senate that Dolabella should be put down by force of arms,

went down and attacked him, killing some of his, and losing some

of his own men; and by this action lost his favor with the

commonalty, while with the better class and with all well

conducted people his general course of life made him, as Cicero

says, absolutely odious, utter disgust being excited by his

drinking bouts at all hours, his wild expenses, his gross

amours, the day spent in sleeping or walking off his debauches,

and the night in banquets and at theaters, and in celebrating

the nuptials of some comedian or buffoon.  It is related that,

drinking all night at the wedding of Hippias, the comedian, on

the morning, having to harangue the people, he came forward,

overcharged as he was, and vomited before them all, one of his

friends holding his gown for him.  Sergius, the player, was one

of the friends who could do most with him; also Cytheris, a

woman of the same trade, whom he made much of, and who, when he

went his progress, accompanied him in a litter, and had her

equipage, not in anything inferior to his mother's; while every

one, moreover, was scandalized at the sight of the golden cups

that he took with him, fitter for the ornaments of a procession

than the uses of a journey, at his having pavilions set up, and

sumptuous morning repasts laid out by river-sides and in groves,

at his having chariots drawn by lions, and common women and

singing girls quartered upon the houses of serious fathers and

mothers of families.  And it seemed very unreasonable that

Caesar, out of Italy, should lodge in the open field, and, with

great fatigue and danger, pursue the remainder of a hazardous

war, whilst others, by favor of his authority, should insult the

citizens with their impudent luxury.

All this appears to have aggravated party quarrels in Rome, and

to have encouraged the soldiers in acts of license and rapacity.

And, accordingly, when Caesar came home, he acquitted Dolabella,

and, being created the third time consul, took, not Antony, but

Lepidus, for his colleague.  Pompey's house being offered for

sale, Antony bought it, and, when the price was demanded of him,

loudly complained.  This, he tells us himself, and because he

thought his former services had not been recompensed as they

deserved, made him not follow Caesar with the army into Libya.

However, Caesar, by dealing gently with his errors, seems to

have succeeded in curing him of a good deal of his folly and

extravagance.  He gave up his former courses, and took a wife,

Fulvia, the widow of Clodius the demagogue, a woman not born for

spinning or housewifery, nor one that could be content with

ruling a private husband, but prepared to govern a first

magistrate, or give orders to a commander-in-chief.  So that

Cleopatra had great obligations to her for having taught Antony

to be so good a servant, he coming to her hands tame and broken

into entire obedience to the commands of a mistress.  He used to

play all sorts of sportive, boyish tricks, to keep Fulvia in

good-humor.  As, for example, when Caesar, after his victory in

Spain, was on his return, Antony, among the rest, went out to

meet him; and, a rumor being spread that Caesar was killed and

the enemy marching into Italy, he resumed to Rome, and,

disguising himself, came to her by night muffled up as a servant

that brought letters from Antony.  She, with great impatience,

before she received the letter, asks if Antony were well, and

instead of an answer he gives her the letter; and, as she was

opening it, took her about the neck and kissed her.  This little

story of many of the same nature, I give as a specimen.

There was nobody of any rank in Rome that did not go some days'

journey to meet Caesar on his return from Spain; but Antony was

the best received of any, admitted to ride the whole journey

with him in his carriage, while behind came Brutus Albinus, and

Octavian, his niece's son, who afterwards bore his name and

reigned so long over the Romans.  Caesar being created, the

fifth time, consul, without delay chose Antony for his

colleague, but, designing himself to give up his own consulate

to Dolabella, he acquainted the senate with his resolution.  But

Antony opposed it with all his might, saying much that was bad

against Dolabella, and receiving the like language in return,

till Caesar could bear with the indecency no longer, and

deferred the matter to another time.  Afterwards, when he came

before the people to proclaim Dolabella, Antony cried out that

the auspices were unfavorable, so that at last Caesar, much to

Dolabella's vexation, yielded and gave it up.  And it is

credible that Caesar was about as much disgusted with the one as

the other.  When someone was accusing them both to him, "It is

not," said he, "these well fed, long-haired men that I fear, but

the pale and the hungry looking;" meaning Brutus and Cassius, by

whose conspiracy he afterwards fell.

And the fairest pretext for that conspiracy was furnished,

without his meaning it, by Antony himself.  The Romans were

celebrating their festival, called the Lupercalia, when Caesar,

in his triumphal habit, and seated above the Rostra in the

market-place, was a spectator of the sports.  The custom is,

that many young noblemen and of the magistracy, anointed with

oil and having straps of hide in their hands, run about and

strike, in sport, at everyone they meet.  Antony was running

with the rest; but, omitting the old ceremony, twining a garland

of bay round a diadem, he ran up to the Rostra, and, being

lifted up by his companions, would have put it upon the head of

Caesar, as if by that ceremony he were declared king.  Caesar

seemingly refused, and drew aside to avoid it, and was applauded

by the people with great shouts.  Again Antony pressed it, and

again he declined its acceptance.  And so the dispute between

them went on for some time, Antony's solicitations receiving but

little encouragement from the shouts of a few friends, and

Caesar's refusal being accompanied with the general applause of

the people; a curious thing enough, that they should submit with

patience to the fact, and yet at the same time dread the name as

the destruction of their liberty.  Caesar, very much discomposed

at what had past, got up from his seat, and, laying bare his

neck, said, he was ready to receive the stroke, if any one of

them desired to give it.  The crown was at last put on one of

his statues, but was taken down by some of the tribunes, who

were followed home by the people with shouts of applause.

Caesar, however, resented it, and deposed them.

These passages gave great encouragement to Brutus and Cassius,

who, in making choice of trusty friends for such an enterprise,

were thinking to engage Antony.  The rest approved, except

Trebonius, who told them that Antony and he had lodged and

traveled together in the last journey they took to meet Caesar,

and that he had

let fall several words, in a cautious way, on purpose to sound

him; that Antony very well understood him, but did not encourage

it; however, he had said nothing of it to Caesar, but had kept

the secret faithfully.  The conspirators then proposed that

Antony should die with him, which Brutus would not consent to,

insisting that an action undertaken in defense of right and the

laws must be maintained unsullied, and pure of injustice.  It

was settled that Antony, whose bodily strength and high office

made him formidable, should, at Caesar's entrance into the

senate, when the deed was to be done, be amused outside by some

of the party in a conversation about some pretended business.

So when all was proceeded with, according to their plan, and

Caesar had fallen in the senate-house, Antony, at the first

moment, took a servant's dress, and hid himself.  But,

understanding that the conspirators had assembled in the

Capitol, and had no further design upon anyone, he persuaded

them to come down, giving them his son as a hostage.  That night

Cassius supped at Antony's house, and Brutus with Lepidus.

Antony then convened the senate, and spoke in favor of an act of

oblivion, and the appointment of Brutus and Cassius to

provinces.  These measures the senate passed; and resolved that

all Caesar's acts should remain in force.  Thus Antony went out

of the senate with the highest possible reputation and esteem;

for it was apparent that he had prevented a civil war, and had

composed, in the wisest and most statesman-like way, questions

of the greatest difficulty and embarrassment.  But these

temperate counsels were soon swept away by the tide of popular

applause, and the prospects, if Brutus were overthrown, of being

without doubt the ruler-in-chief.  As Caesar's body was

conveying to the tomb, Antony, according to the custom, was

making his funeral oration in the market; place, and, perceiving

the people to be infinitely affected with what he had said, he

began to mingle with his praises language of commiseration, and

horror at what had happened, and, as he was ending his speech,

he took the under-clothes of the dead, and held them up,

showing them stains of blood and the holes of the many stabs,

calling those that had done this act villains and bloody

murderers.  All which excited the people to such indignation,

that they would not defer the funeral, but, making a pile of

tables and forms in the very market-place, set fire to it; and

everyone, taking a brand, ran to the conspirators' houses, to

attack them.

Upon this, Brutus and his whole party left the city, and

Caesar's friends joined themselves to Antony.  Calpurnia,

Caesar's wife, lodged with him the best part of the property, to

the value of four thousand talents; he got also into his hands

all Caesar's papers, wherein were contained journals of all he

had done, and draughts of what he designed to do, which Antony

made good use of; for by this means he appointed what

magistrates he pleased, brought whom he would into the senate,

recalled some from exile, freed others out of prison, and all

this as ordered so by Caesar.  The Romans, in mockery, gave

those who were thus benefited the name of Charonites, since, if

put to prove their patents, they must have recourse to the

papers of the dead.  In short, Antony's behavior in Rome was

very absolute, he himself being consul, and his two brothers in

great place; Caius, the one, being praetor, and Lucius, the

other, tribune of the people.

While matters went thus in Rome, the young Caesar, Caesar's

niece's son, and by testament left his heir, arrived at Rome

from Apollonia, where he was when his uncle was killed.  The

first thing he did was to visit Antony, as his father's friend.

He spoke to him concerning the money that was in his hands, and

reminded him of the legacy Caesar had made of seventy-five

drachmas to every Roman citizen.  Antony, at first, laughing at

such discourse from so young a man, told him he wished he were

in his health, and that he wanted good counsel and good friends,

to tell him the burden of being executor to Caesar would sit

very uneasily upon his young shoulders.  This was no answer to

him; and, when he persisted in demanding the property, Antony

went on treating him injuriously both in word and deed, opposed

him when he stood for the tribune's office, and, when he was

taking steps for the dedication of his father's golden chair, as

had been enacted, he threatened to send him to prison if he did

not give over soliciting the people.  This made the young Caesar

apply himself to Cicero, and all those that hated Antony; by

them he was recommended to the senate, while he himself courted

the people, and drew together the soldiers from their

settlements, till Antony got alarmed, and gave him a meeting in

the Capitol, where, after some words, they came to an

accommodation.

That night Antony had a very unlucky dream, fancying that his

right hand was thunderstruck.  And, some few days after, he was

informed that Caesar was plotting to take his life.  Caesar

explained, but was not believed, so that the breach was now made

as wide as ever; each of them hurried about all through Italy to

engage, by great offers, the old soldiers that lay scattered in

their settlements, and to be the first to secure the troops that

still remained undischarged.  Cicero was at this time the man of

greatest influence in Rome.  He made use of all his art to

exasperate people against Antony, and at length persuaded the

senate to declare him a public enemy, to send Caesar the rods

and axes and other marks of honor usually given to praetors, and

to issue orders to Hirtius and Pansa, who were the consuls, to

drive Antony out of Italy.  The armies engaged near Modena, and

Caesar himself was present and took part in the battle.  Antony

was defeated, but both the consuls were slain.  Antony, in his

flight, was overtaken by distresses of every kind, and the worst

of all of them was famine.  But it was his character in

calamities to be better than at any other time.  Antony, in

misfortune, was most nearly a virtuous man.  It is common enough

for people, when they fall into great disasters, to discern what

is right, and what they ought to do; but there are but few who

in such extremities have the strength to obey their judgment,

either in doing what it approves or avoiding what it condemns;

and a good many are so weak as to give way to their habits all

the more, and are incapable of using their minds.  Antony, on

this occasion, was a most wonderful example to his soldiers.

He, who had just quitted so much luxury and sumptuous living,

made no difficulty now of drinking foul water and feeding on

wild fruits and roots.  Nay, it is related they ate the very

bark of trees, and, in passing over the Alps, lived upon

creatures that no one before had ever been willing to touch.

The design was to join the army on the other side the Alps,

commanded by Lepidus, who he imagined would stand his friend, he

having done him many good offices with Caesar.  On coming up and

encamping near at hand, finding he had no sort of encouragement

offered him, he resolved to push his fortune and venture all.

His hair was long and disordered, nor had he shaved his beard

since his defeat; in this guise, and with a dark colored cloak

flung over him, he came into the trenches of Lepidus, and began

to address the army.  Some were moved at his habit, others at

his words, so that Lepidus, not liking it, ordered the trumpets

to sound, that he might be heard no longer.  This raised in the

soldiers yet a greater pity, so that they resolved to confer

secretly with him, and dressed Laelius and Clodius in women's

clothes, and sent them to see him.  They advised him without

delay to attack Lepidus's trenches, assuring him that a strong

party would receive him, and, if he wished it, would kill

Lepidus.  Antony, however, had no wish for this, but next

morning marched his army to pass over the river that parted the

two camps.  He was himself the first man that stepped in, and,

as he went through towards the other bank, he saw Lepidus's

soldiers in great numbers reaching out their hands to help him,

and beating down the works to make him way.  Being entered into

the camp, and finding himself absolute master, he nevertheless

treated Lepidus with the greatest civility, and gave him the title

of Father, when he spoke to him, and, though he had everything

at his own command, he left him the honor of being called

the general.  This fair usage brought over to him Munatius

Plancus, who was not far off with a considerable force.  Thus in

great strength he repassed the Alps, leading with him into Italy

seventeen legions and ten thousand horse, besides six legions

which he left in garrison under the command of Varius, one of

his familiar friends and boon companions, whom they used to call

by the nickname of Cotylon.

Caesar, perceiving that Cicero's wishes were for liberty, had

ceased to pay any further regard to him, and was now employing

the mediation of his friends to come to a good understanding

with Antony.  They both met together with Lepidus in a small

island, where the conference lasted three days.  The empire was

soon determined of, it being divided amongst them as if it had

been their paternal inheritance.  That which gave them all the

trouble was to agree who should be put to death, each of them

desiring to destroy his enemies and to save his friends.  But,

in the end, animosity to those they hated carried the day

against respect for relations and affection for friends; and

Caesar sacrificed Cicero to Antony, Antony gave up his uncle

Lucius Caesar, and Lepidus received permission to murder his

brother Paulus, or, as others say, yielded his brother to them.

I do not believe anything ever took place more truly savage or

barbarous than this composition, for, in this exchange of blood

for blood, they were equally guilty of the lives they

surrendered and of those they took; or, indeed, more guilty in

the case of their friends, for whose deaths they had not even

the justification of hatred.  To complete the reconciliation,

the soldiery, coming about them, demanded that confirmation

should be given to it by some alliance of marriage; Caesar

should marry Clodia, the daughter of Fulvia, wife to Antony.

This also being agreed to, three hundred persons were put to

death by proscription.  Antony gave orders to those that were to

kill Cicero, to cut off his head and right hand, with which he

had written his invectives against him; and, when they were

brought before him, he regarded them joyfully, actually bursting

out more than once into laughter, and when he had satiated

himself with the sight of them, ordered them to be hung up above

the speaker's place in the forum, thinking thus to insult the

dead, while in fact he only exposed his own wanton arrogance,

and his unworthiness to hold the power that fortune had given

him.  His uncle Lucius Caesar, being closely pursued, took

refuge with his sister, who, when the murderers had broken into

her house and were pressing into her chamber, met them at the

door, and, spreading out her hands, cried out several times,

"You shall not kill Lucius Caesar till you first dispatch me,

who gave your general his birth;" and in this manner she

succeeded in getting her brother out of the way, and saving his

life.

This triumvirate was very hateful to the Romans, and Antony most

of all bore the blame, because he was older than Caesar, and had

greater authority than Lepidus, and withal he was no sooner

settled in his affairs, but he returned to his luxurious and

dissolute way of living.  Besides the ill reputation he gained

by his general behavior, it was some considerable disadvantage

to him his living in the house of Pompey the Great, who had been

as much admired for his temperance and his sober, citizen-like

habits of life, as ever he was for having triumphed three times.

They could not without anger see the doors of that house shut

against magistrates, officers, and envoys, who were shamefully

refused admittance, while it was filled inside with players,

jugglers, and drunken flatterers, upon whom were spent the

greatest part of the wealth which violence and cruelty procured.

For they did not limit themselves to the forfeiture of the

estates of such as were proscribed, defrauding the widows and

families, nor were they contented with laying on every possible

kind of tax and imposition; but, hearing that several sums of

money were, as well by strangers as citizens of Rome, deposited

in the hands of the vestal virgins, they went and took the money

away by force.  When it was manifest that nothing would ever be

enough for Antony, Caesar at last called for a division of

property.  The army was also divided between them, upon their

march into Macedonia to make war with Brutus and Cassius,

Lepidus being left with the command of the city.

However, after they had crossed the sea and engaged in

operations of war, encamping in front of the enemy, Antony

opposite Cassius, and Caesar opposite Brutus, Caesar did nothing

worth relating, and all the success and victory were Antony's.

In the first battle, Caesar was completely routed by Brutus, his

camp taken, he himself very narrowly escaping by flight.  As he

himself writes in his Memoirs, he retired before the battle, on

account of a dream which one of his friends had.  But Antony, on

the other hand, defeated Cassius; though some have written that

he was not actually present in the engagement, and only joined

afterwards in the pursuit.  Cassius was killed, at his own

entreaty and order, by one of his most trusted freedmen,

Pindarus, not being aware of Brutus's victory.  After a few

days' interval, they fought another battle, in which Brutus lost

the day, and slew himself; and Caesar being sick, Antony had

almost all the honor of the victory.  Standing over Brutus's

dead body, he uttered a few words of reproach upon him for the

death of his brother Caius, who had been executed by Brutus's

order in Macedonia in revenge of Cicero; but, saying presently

that Hortensius was most to blame for it, he gave order for his

being slain upon his brother's tomb, and, throwing his own

scarlet mantle, which was of great value, upon the body of

Brutus, he gave charge to one of his own freedmen to take care

of his funeral.  This man, as Antony came to understand, did not

leave the mantle with the corpse, but kept both it and a good

part of the money that should have been spent in the funeral for

himself; for which he had him put to death.

But Caesar was conveyed to Rome, no one expecting that he would

long survive.  Antony, proposing to go to the eastern provinces

to lay them under contribution, entered Greece with a large

force.  The promise had been made that every common soldier

should receive for his pay five thousand drachmas; so it was

likely there would be need of pretty severe taxing and levying

to raise money.  However, to the Greeks he showed at first

reason and moderation enough; he gratified his love of amusement

by hearing the learned men dispute, by seeing the games, and

undergoing initiation; and in judicial matters he was equitable,

taking pleasure in being styled a lover of Greece, but, above

all, in being called a lover of Athens, to which city he made

very considerable presents.  The people of Megara wished to let

him know that they also had something to show him, and invited

him to come and see their senate-house.  So he went and examined

it, and on their asking him how he liked it, told them it was

"not very large, but extremely ruinous."  At the same time, he

had a survey made of the temple of the Pythian Apollo, as if he

had designed to repair it, and indeed he had declared to the

senate his intention so to do.

However, leaving Lucius Censorinus in Greece, he crossed over

into Asia, and there laid his hands on the stores of accumulated

wealth, while kings waited at his door, and queens were rivaling

one another, who should make him the greatest presents or appear

most charming in his eyes.  Thus, whilst Caesar in Rome was

wearing out his strength amidst seditions and wars, Antony, with

nothing to do amidst the enjoyments of peace, let his passions

carry him easily back to the old course of life that was

familiar to him.  A set of harpers and pipers, Anaxenor and

Xuthus, the dancing-man Metrodorus, and a whole Bacchic rout of

the like Asiatic exhibitors, far outdoing in license and

buffoonery the pests that had followed out of Italy, came in and

possessed the court; the thing was past patience, wealth of all

kinds being wasted on objects like these.  The whole of Asia was

like the city in Sophocles, loaded, at one time,

with incense in the air,

Jubilant songs, and outcries of despair.

When he made his entry into Ephesus, the women met him dressed

up like Bacchantes, and the men and boys like Satyrs and Fauns,

and throughout the town nothing was to be seen but spears

wreathed about with ivy, harps, flutes, and psaltries, while

Antony in their songs was Bacchus the Giver of Joy and the

Gentle.  And so indeed he was to some, but to far more the

Devourer and the Savage; for he would deprive persons of worth

and quality of their fortunes to gratify villains and

flatterers, who would sometimes beg the estates of men yet

living, pretending they were dead, and, obtaining a grant, take

possession.  He gave his cook the house of a Magnesian citizen,

as a reward for a single highly successful supper, and, at last,

when he was proceeding to lay a second whole tribute on Asia,

Hybreas, speaking on behalf of the cities, took courage, and

told him broadly, but aptly enough for Antony's taste, "If you

can take two yearly tributes, you can doubtless give us a couple

of summers, and a double harvest time;" and put it to him in the

plainest and boldest way, that Asia had raised two hundred

thousand talents for his service: "If this has not been paid to

you, ask your collectors for it; if it has, and is all gone, we

are ruined men."  These words touched Antony to the quick, who

was simply ignorant of most things that were done in his name;

not that he was so indolent, as he was prone to trust frankly in

all about him.  For there was much simplicity in his character;

he was slow to see his faults, but, when he did see them, was

extremely repentant, and ready to ask pardon of those he had

injured; prodigal in his acts of reparation, and severe in his

punishments, but his generosity was much more extravagant than

his severity; his raillery was sharp and insulting, but the edge

of it was taken off by his readiness to submit to any kind of

repartee; for he was as well contented to be rallied, as he was

pleased to rally others.  And this freedom of speech was,

indeed, the cause of many of his disasters.  He never imagined

that those who used so much liberty in their mirth would flatter

or deceive him in business of consequence, not knowing how

common it is with parasites to mix their flattery with boldness,

as confectioners do their sweetmeats with something biting, to

prevent the sense of satiety.  Their freedoms and impertinences

at table were designed expressly to give to their obsequiousness

in council the air of being not complaisance, but conviction.

Such being his temper, the last and crowning mischief that could

befall him came in the love of Cleopatra, to awaken and kindle

to fury passions that as yet lay still and dormant in his

nature, and to stifle and finally corrupt any elements that yet

made resistance in him, of goodness and a sound judgment.  He

fell into the snare thus.  When making preparation for the

Parthian war, he sent to command her to make her personal

appearance in Cilicia, to answer an accusation, that she had

given great assistance, in the late wars, to Cassius.  Dellius,

who was sent on this message, had no sooner seen her face, and

remarked her adroitness and subtlety in speech, but he felt

convinced that Antony would not so much as think of giving any

molestation to a woman like this; on the contrary, she would be

the first in favor with him.  So he set himself at once to pay

his court to the Egyptian, and gave her his advice, "to go," in

the Homeric style, to Cilicia, "in her best attire," and bade

her fear nothing from Antony, the gentlest and kindest of

soldiers.  She had some faith in the words of Dellius, but more

in her own attractions, which, having formerly recommended her

to Caesar and the young Cnaeus Pompey, she did not doubt might

prove yet more successful with Antony.  Their acquaintance was

with her when a girl, young, and ignorant of the world, but she

was to meet Antony in the time of life when women's beauty is

most splendid, and their intellects are in full maturity. She

made great preparation for her journey, of money, gifts, and

ornaments of value, such as so wealthy a kingdom might afford,

but she brought with her her surest hopes in her own magic arts

and charms.

She received several letters, both from Antony and from his

friends, to summon her, but she took no account of these orders;

and at last, as if in mockery of them, she came sailing up the

river Cydnus, in a barge with gilded stern and outspread sails

of purple, while oars of silver beat time to the music of flutes

and fifes and harps.  She herself lay all along, under a canopy

of cloth of gold, dressed as Venus in a picture, and beautiful

young boys, like painted Cupids, stood on each side to fan her.

Her maids were dressed like Sea Nymphs and Graces, some steering

at the rudder, some working at the ropes.  The perfumes diffused

themselves from the vessel to the shore, which was covered with

multitudes, part following the galley up the river on either

bank, part running out of the city to see the sight.  The

market-place was quite emptied, and Antony at last was left

alone sitting upon the tribunal; while the word went through all

the multitude, that Venus was come to feast with Bacchus, for

the common good of Asia.  On her arrival, Antony sent to invite

her to supper.  She thought it fitter he should come to her; so,

willing to show his good-humor and courtesy, he complied, and

went.  He found the preparations to receive him magnificent

beyond expression, but nothing so admirable as the great number

of lights; for on a sudden there was let down altogether so

great a number of branches with lights in them so ingeniously

disposed, some in squares, and some in circles, that the whole

thing was a spectacle that has seldom been equaled for beauty.

The next day, Antony invited her to supper, and was very

desirous to outdo her as well in magnificence as contrivance;

but he found he was altogether beaten in both, and was so well

convinced of it, that he was himself the first to jest and mock

at his poverty of wit, and his rustic awkwardness.  She,

perceiving that his raillery was broad and gross, and savored

more of the soldier than the courtier, rejoined in the same

taste, and fell into it at once, without any sort of reluctance

or reserve.  For her actual beauty, it is said, was not in

itself so remarkable that none could be compared with her, or

that no one could see her without being struck by it, but the

contact of her presence, if you lived with her, was

irresistible; the attraction of her person, joining with the

charm of her conversation, and the character that attended all

she said or did, was something bewitching.  It was a pleasure

merely to hear the sound of her voice, with which, like an

instrument of many strings, she could pass from one language to

another; so that there were few of the barbarian nations that

she answered by an interpreter; to most of them she spoke

herself, as to the Ethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews, Arabians,

Syrians, Medes, Parthians, and many others, whose language she

had learnt; which was all the more surprising, because most of

the kings her predecessors scarcely gave themselves the trouble

to acquire the Egyptian tongue, and several of them quite

abandoned the Macedonian.

Antony was so captivated by her, that, while Fulvia his wife

maintained his quarrels in Rome against Caesar by actual force

of arms, and the Parthian troops, commanded by Labienus (the

king's generals having made him commander-in-chief), were

assembled in Mesopotamia, and ready to enter Syria, he could yet

suffer himself to be carried away by her to Alexandria, there to

keep holiday, like a boy, in play and diversion, squandering and

fooling away in enjoyments that most costly, as Antiphon says,

of all valuables, time.  They had a sort of company, to which

they gave a particular name, calling it that of the Inimitable

Livers.  The members entertained one another daily in turn, with

an extravagance of expenditure beyond measure or belief.

Philotas, a physician of Amphissa, who was at that time a

student of medicine in Alexandria, used to tell my grandfather

Lamprias, that, having some acquaintance with one of the royal

cooks, he was invited by him, being a young man, to come and see

the sumptuous preparations for supper.  So he was taken into the

kitchen, where he admired the prodigious variety of all things;

but particularly, seeing eight wild boars roasting whole, says

he, "Surely you have a great number of guests."  The cook

laughed at his simplicity, and told him there were not above

twelve to sup, but that every dish was to be served up just

roasted to a turn, and if anything was but one minute ill-timed,

it was spoiled; "And," said he, "maybe Antony will sup just now,

maybe not this hour, maybe he will call for wine, or begin to

talk, and will put it off.  So that," he continued, "it is not

one, but many suppers must be had in readiness, as it is

impossible to guess at his hour."  This was Philotas's story;

who related besides, that he afterwards came to be one of the

medical attendants of Antony's eldest son by Fulvia, and used to

be invited pretty often, among other companions, to his table,

when he was not supping with his father.  One day another

physician had talked loudly, and given great disturbance to the

company, whose mouth Philotas stopped with this sophistical

syllogism: "In some states of fever the patient should take cold

water; everyone who has a fever is in some state of fever;

therefore in a fever cold water should always be taken."  The

man was quite struck dumb, and Antony's son, very much pleased,

laughed aloud, and said, Philotas, "I make you a present of all

you see there," pointing to a sideboard covered with plate.

Philotas thanked him much, but was far enough from ever

imagining that a boy of his age could dispose of things of that

value.  Soon after, however, the plate was all brought to him,

and he was desired to set his mark upon it; and when he put it

away from him, and was afraid to accept the present, "What ails

the man?" said he that brought it; "do you know that he who

gives you this is Antony's son, who is free to give it, if it

were all gold? but if you will be advised by me, I would counsel

you to accept of the value in money from us; for there may be

amongst the rest some antique or famous piece of workmanship,

which Antony would be sorry to part with."  These anecdotes my

grandfather told us Philotas used frequently to relate.

To return to Cleopatra; Plato admits four sorts of flattery,

but she had a thousand.  Were Antony serious or disposed to

mirth, she had at any moment some new delight or charm to meet

his wishes; at every turn she was upon him, and let him escape

her neither by day nor by night.  She played at dice with him,

drank with him, hunted with him; and when he exercised in arms,

she was there to see.  At night she would go rambling with him

to disturb and torment people at their doors and windows,

dressed like a servant-woman, for Antony also went in servant's

disguise, and from these expeditions he often came home very

scurvily answered, and sometimes even beaten severely, though

most people guessed who it was.  However, the Alexandrians in

general liked it all well enough, and joined good humoredly and

kindly in his frolic and play, saying they were much obliged to

Antony for acting his tragic parts at Rome, and keeping his

comedy for them.  It would be trifling without end to be

particular in his follies, but his fishing must not be

forgotten.  He went out one day to angle with Cleopatra, and,

being so unfortunate as to catch nothing in the presence of his

mistress, he gave secret orders to the fishermen to dive under

water, and put fishes that had been already taken upon his

hooks; and these he drew so fast that the Egyptian perceived it.

But, feigning great admiration, she told everybody how dexterous

Antony was, and invited them next day to come and see him again.

So, when a number of them had come on board the fishing boats,

as soon as he had let down his hook, one of her servants was

beforehand with his divers, and fixed upon his hook a salted

fish from Pontus.  Antony, feeling his line give, drew up the

prey, and when, as may be imagined, great laughter ensued,

"Leave," said Cleopatra, "the fishing-rod, general, to us poor

sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus; your game is cities,

provinces, and kingdoms."

Whilst he was thus diverting himself and engaged in this boys'

play, two dispatches arrived; one from Rome, that his brother

Lucius and his wife Fulvia, after many quarrels among

themselves, had joined in war against Caesar, and, having lost

all, had fled out of Italy; the other bringing little better

news, that Labienus, at the head of the Parthians, was

overrunning Asia, from Euphrates and Syria as far as Lydia and

Ionia.  So, scarcely at last rousing himself from sleep, and

shaking off the fumes of wine, he set out to attack the

Parthians, and went as far as Phoenicia; but, upon the receipt

of lamentable letters from Fulvia, turned his course with two

hundred ships to Italy.  And, in his way, receiving, such of his

friends as fled from Italy, he was given to understand that

Fulvia was the sole cause of the war, a woman of a restless

spirit and very bold, and withal her hopes were that commotions

in Italy would force Antony from Cleopatra.  But it happened

that Fulvia, as she was coming to meet her husband, fell sick by

the way, and died at Sicyon, so that an accommodation was the

more easily made.  For when he reached Italy, and Caesar showed

no intention of laying anything to his charge, and he on his

part shifted the blame of everything on Fulvia, those that were

friends to them would not suffer that the time should be spent

in looking narrowly into the plea, but made a reconciliation

first, and then a partition of the empire between them, taking

as their boundary the Ionian Sea, the eastern provinces falling

to Antony, to Caesar the western, and Africa being left to

Lepidus.  And an agreement was made, that everyone in their

turn, as he thought fit, should make their friends consuls,

when they did not choose to take the offices themselves.

These terms were well approved of, but yet it was thought some

closer tie would be desirable; and for this, fortune offered

occasion.  Caesar had an elder sister, not of the whole blood,

for Attia was his mother's name, hers Ancharia.  This sister,

Octavia, he was extremely attached to, as, indeed, she was, it

is said, quite a wonder of a woman.  Her husband, Caius

Marcellus, had died not long before, and Antony was now a

widower by the death of Fulvia; for, though he did not disavow

the passion he had for Cleopatra, yet he disowned anything of

marriage, reason, as yet, upon this point, still maintaining the

debate against the charms of the Egyptian.  Everybody concurred

in promoting this new alliance, fully expecting that with the

beauty, honor, and prudence of Octavia, when her company should,

as it was certain it would, have engaged his affections, all

would be kept in the safe and happy course of friendship.  So,

both parties being agreed, they went to Rome to celebrate the

nuptials, the senate dispensing with the law by which a widow

was not permitted to marry till ten months after the death of

her husband.

Sextus Pompeius was in possession of Sicily, and with his ships,

under the command of Menas, the pirate, and Menecrates, so

infested the Italian coast, that no vessels durst venture into

those seas.  Sextus had behaved with much humanity towards

Antony, having received his mother when she fled with Fulvia,

and it was therefore judged fit that he also should be received

into the peace.  They met near the promontory of Misenum, by the

mole of the port, Pompey having his fleet at anchor close by,

and Antony and Caesar their troops drawn up all along the shore.

There it was concluded that Sextus should quietly enjoy the

government of Sicily and Sardinia, he conditioning to scour the

seas of all pirates, and to send so much corn every year to

Rome.

This agreed on, they invited one another to supper, and by lot

it fell to Pompey's turn to give the first entertainment, and

Antony, asking where it was to be, "There," said he, pointing to

the admiral-galley, a ship of six banks of oars, "that is the

only house that Pompey is heir to of his father's."  And this

he said, reflecting upon Antony, who was then in possession of

his father's house.  Having fixed the ship on her anchors, and

formed a bridgeway from the promontory to conduct on board of

her, he gave them a cordial welcome.  And when they began to

grow warm, and jests were passing freely on Antony and

Cleopatra's loves, Menas, the pirate, whispered Pompey in the

ear, "Shall I," said he, "cut the cables, and make you master

not of Sicily only and Sardinia, but of the whole Roman empire?"

Pompey, having considered a little while, returned him answer,

"Menas, this might have been done without acquainting me; now we

must rest content; I do not break my word."  And so, having been

entertained by the other two in their turns, he set sail for

Sicily.

After the treaty was completed, Antony dispatched Ventidius into

Asia, to check the advance of the Parthians, while he, as a

compliment to Caesar, accepted the office of priest to the

deceased Caesar.  And in any state affair and matter of

consequence, they both behaved themselves with much

consideration and friendliness for each other.  But it annoyed

Antony, that in all their amusements, on any trial of skill

or fortune, Caesar should be constantly victorious.  He had with

him an Egyptian diviner, one of those who calculate nativities,

who, either to make his court to Cleopatra, or that by the rules

of his art he found it to be so, openly declared to him, that

though the fortune that attended him was bright and glorious,

yet it was overshadowed by Caesar's; and advised him to keep

himself as far distant as he could from that young man; "for

your Genius," said he, "dreads his; when absent from him yours

is proud and brave, but in his presence unmanly and dejected;"

and incidents that occurred appeared to show that the Egyptian

spoke truth.  For whenever they cast lots for any playful

purpose, or threw dice, Antony was still the loser; and

repeatedly, when they fought game-cocks or quails, Caesar's had

the victory.  This gave Antony a secret displeasure, and made

him put the more confidence in the skill of his Egyptian.  So,

leaving the management of his home affairs to Caesar, he left

Italy, and took Octavia, who had lately borne him a daughter,

along with him into Greece.

Here, whilst he wintered in Athens, he received the first news

of Ventidius's successes over the Parthians, of his having

defeated them in a battle, having slain Labienus and

Pharnapates, the best general their king, Hyrodes, possessed.

For the celebrating of which he made a public feast through

Greece, and for the prizes which were contested at Athens he

himself acted as steward, and, leaving at home the ensigns that

are carried before the general, he made his public appearance in

a gown and white shoes, with the steward's wands marching

before; and he performed his duty in taking the combatants by

the neck, to part them, when they had fought enough.

When the time came for him to set out for the war, he took a

garland from the sacred olive, and, in obedience to some oracle,

he filled a vessel with the water of the Clepsydra, to carry

along with him.  In this interval, Pacorus, the Parthian king's

son, who was marching into Syria with a large army, was met by

Ventidius, who gave him battle in the country of Cyrrhestica,

slew a large number of his men, and Pacorus among the first.

This victory was one of the most renowned achievements of the

Romans, and fully avenged their defeats under Crassus, the

Parthians being obliged, after the loss of three battles

successively, to keep themselves within the bounds of Media and

Mesopotamia.  Ventidius was not willing to push his good fortune

further, for fear of raising some jealousy in Antony, but,

turning his arms against those that had quitted the Roman

interest, he reduced them to their former obedience.  Among the

rest, he besieged Antiochus, king of Commagene, in the city of

Samosata, who made an offer of a thousand talents for his

pardon, and a promise of submission to Antony's commands.  But

Ventidius told him that he must send to Antony, who was already

on his march, and had sent word to Ventidius to make no terms

with Antiochus, wishing that at any rate this one exploit might

be ascribed to him, and that people might not think that all his

successes were won by his lieutenants.  The siege, however, was

long protracted; for when those within found their offers

refused, they defended themselves stoutly, till, at last,

Antony, finding he was doing nothing, in shame and regret for

having refused the first offer, was glad to make an

accommodation with Antiochus for three hundred talents.  And,

having given some orders for the affairs of Syria, he returned

to Athens; and, paying Ventidius the honors he well deserved,

dismissed him to receive his triumph.  He is the only man that

has ever yet triumphed for victories obtained over the

Parthians; he was of obscure birth, but, by means of Antony's

friendship, obtained an opportunity of showing his capacity, and

doing great things; and his making such glorious use of it gave

new credit to the current observation about Caesar and Antony,

that they were more fortunate in what they did by their

lieutenants than in their own persons.  For Sossius, also, had

great success, and Canidius, whom he left in Armenia, defeated

the people there, and also the kings of the Albanians and

Iberians, and marched victorious as far as Caucasus, by which

means the fame of Antony's arms had become great among the

barbarous nations.

He, however, once more, upon some unfavorable stories, taking

offense against Caesar, set sail with three hundred ships for

Italy, and, being refused admittance to the port of Brundusium,

made for Tarentum.  There his wife Octavia, who came from Greece

with him, obtained leave to visit her brother, she being then

great with child, having already borne her husband a second

daughter; and as she was on her way, she met Caesar, with his

two friends Agrippa and Maecenas, and, taking these two aside,

with great entreaties and lamentations she told them, that of

the most fortunate woman upon earth, she was in danger of

becoming the most unhappy; for as yet everyone's eyes were fixed

upon her as the wife and sister of the two great commanders,

but, if rash counsels should prevail, and war ensue, "I shall be

miserable," said she, "without redress; for on what side soever

victory falls, I shall be sure to be a loser."  Caesar was

overcome by these entreaties, and advanced in a peaceable temper

to Tarentum, where those that were present beheld a most stately

spectacle; a vast army drawn up by the shore, and as great a

fleet in the harbor, all without the occurrence of any act of

hostility; nothing but the salutations of friends, and other

expressions of joy and kindness, passing from one armament to

the other.  Antony first entertained Caesar this also being a

concession on Caesar's part to his sister; and when at length an

agreement was made between them, that Caesar should give Antony

two of his legions to serve him in the Parthian war, and that

Antony should in return leave with him a hundred armed galleys,

Octavia further obtained of her husband, besides this, twenty

light ships for her brother, and of her brother, a thousand foot

for her husband.  So, having parted good friends, Caesar went

immediately to make war with Pompey to conquer Sicily.  And

Antony, leaving in Caesar's charge his wife and children, and

his children by his former wife Fulvia, set sail for Asia.

But the mischief that thus long had lain still, the passion for

Cleopatra, which better thoughts had seemed to have lulled and

charmed into oblivion, upon his approach to Syria, gathered

strength again, and broke out into a flame.  And, in fine, like

Plato's restive and rebellious horse of the human soul, flinging

off all good and wholesome counsel, and breaking fairly loose,

he sends Fonteius Capito to bring Cleopatra into Syria.  To whom

at her arrival he made no small or trifling present, Phoenicia,

Coele-Syria, Cyprus, great part of Cilicia, that side of Judaea

which produces balm, that part of Arabia where the Nabathaeans

extend to the outer sea; profuse gifts, which much displeased

the Romans.  For, although he had invested several private

persons in great governments and kingdoms, and bereaved many

kings of theirs, as Antigonus of Judaea, whose head he caused to

be struck off (the first example of that punishment being

inflicted on a king), yet nothing stung the Romans like the

shame of these honors paid to Cleopatra.  Their dissatisfaction

was augmented also by his acknowledging as his own the twin

children he had by her, giving them the name of Alexander and

Cleopatra, and adding, as their surnames, the titles of Sun and

Moon.  But he, who knew how to put a good color on the most

dishonest action, would say, that the greatness of the Roman

empire consisted more in giving than in taking kingdoms, and

that the way to carry noble blood through the world was by

begetting in every place a new line and series of kings; his own

ancestor had thus been born of Hercules; Hercules had not

limited his hopes of progeny to a single womb, nor feared any

law like Solon's, or any audit of procreation, but had freely

let nature take her will in the foundation and first

commencement of many families.

After Phraates had killed his father Hyrodes, and taken

possession of his kingdom, many of the Parthians left their

country; among the rest, Monaeses, a man of great distinction

and authority, sought refuge with Antony, who, looking on his

case as similar to that of Themistocles, and likening his own

opulence and magnanimity to those of the former Persian kings,

gave him three cities, Larissa, Arethusa, and Hierapolis, which

was formerly called Bambyce.  But when the king of Parthia soon

recalled him, giving him his word and honor for his safety,

Antony was not unwilling to give him leave to return, hoping

thereby to surprise Phraates, who would believe that peace would

continue; for he only made the demand of him, that he should

send back the Roman ensigns which were taken when Crassus was

slain, and the prisoners that remained yet alive.  This done, he

sent Cleopatra into Egypt, and marched through Arabia and

Armenia; and, when his forces came together, and were joined by

those of his confederate kings (of whom there were very many,

and the most considerable, Artavasdes, king of Armenia, who came

at the head of six thousand horse and seven thousand foot), he

made a general muster.  There appeared sixty thousand Roman

foot, ten thousand horse, Spaniards and Gauls, who counted as

Romans; and, of other nations, horse and foot, thirty thousand.

And these great preparations, that put the Indians beyond

Bactria into alarm, and made all Asia shake, were all, we are

told, rendered useless to him because of Cleopatra.  For, in

order to pass the winter with her, the war was pushed on before

its due time; and all he did was done without perfect

consideration, as by a man who had no proper control over his

faculties, who, under the effects of some drug or magic, was

still looking back elsewhere, and whose object was much more to

hasten his return than to conquer his enemies.

For, first of all, when he should have taken up his

winter-quarters in Armenia, to refresh his men, who were tired

with long marches, having come at least eight thousand furlongs,

and then have taken the advantage in the beginning of the spring

to invade Media, before the Parthians were out of

winter-quarters, he had not patience to expect his time, but

marched into the province of Atropatene, leaving Armenia on the

left hand, and laid waste all that country.  Secondly, his haste

was so great, that he left behind the engines absolutely

required for any siege, which followed the camp in three hundred

wagons, and, among the rest, a ram eighty feet long; none of

which was it possible, if lost or damaged, to repair or to make

the like, as the provinces of the upper Asia produce no trees

long or hard enough for such uses.  Nevertheless, he left them

all behind, as a mere impediment to his speed, in the charge of

a detachment under the command of Statianus, the wagon-officer.

He himself laid siege to Phraata, a principal city of the king

of Media, wherein were that king's wife and children.  And when

actual need proved the greatness of his error in leaving the

siege train behind him, he had nothing for it but to come up and

raise a mound against the walls, with infinite labor and great

loss of time.  Meantime Phraates, coming down with a large army,

and hearing that the wagons were left behind with the battering

engines, sent a strong party of horse, by which Statianus was

surprised, he himself and ten thousand of his men slain, the

engines all broken in pieces, many taken prisoners, and, among

the rest, king Polemon.

This great miscarriage in the opening of the campaign much

discouraged Antony's army, and Artavasdes, king of Armenia,

deciding that the Roman prospects were bad, withdrew with all

his forces from the camp, although he had been the chief

promoter of the war.  The Parthians, encouraged by their

success, came up to the Romans at the siege, and gave them many

affronts; upon which Antony, fearing that the despondency and

alarm of his soldiers would only grow worse if he let them lie

idle, taking all the horse, ten legions, and three praetorian

cohorts of heavy infantry, resolved to go out and forage,

designing by this means to draw the enemy with more advantage to

a battle.  To effect this, he marched a day's journey from his

camp, and, finding the Parthians hovering about, in readiness to

attack him while he was in motion, he gave orders for the signal

of battle to be hung out in the encampment, but, at the same

time, pulled down the tents, as if he meant not to fight, but to

lead his men home again; and so he proceeded to lead them past

the enemy, who were drawn up in a half-moon, his orders being

that the horse should charge as soon as the legions were come up

near enough to second them.  The Parthians, standing still while

the Romans marched by them, were in great admiration of their

army, and of the exact discipline it observed, rank after rank

passing on at equal distances in perfect order and silence,

their pikes all ready in their hands.  But when the signal was

given, and the horse turned short upon the Parthians, and with

loud cries charged them, they bravely received them, though they

were at once too near for bowshot; but the legions, coming up

with loud shouts and rattling of their arms, so frightened their

horses and indeed the men themselves, that they kept their

ground no longer.  Antony pressed them hard, in great hopes that

this victory should put an end to the war; the foot had them in

pursuit for fifty furlongs, and the horse for thrice that

distance, and yet, the advantage summed up, they had but thirty

prisoners, and there were but fourscore slain.  So that they

were all filled with dejection and discouragement, to consider,

that when they were victorious, their advantage was so small,

and that when they were beaten, they lost so great a number of

men as they had done when the carriages were taken.

The next day, having put the baggage in order, they marched back

to the camp before Phraata, in the way meeting with some

scattering troops of the enemy, and, as they marched further,

with greater parties, at length with the body of the enemy's

army, fresh and in good order, who called them to battle, and

charged them on every side, and it was not without great

difficulty that they reached the camp.  There Antony, finding

that his men had in a panic deserted the defense of the mound,

upon a sally of the Medes, resolved to proceed against them by

decimation, as it is called, which is done by dividing the

soldiers into tens, and, out of every ten, putting one to death,

as it happens by lot.  The rest he gave orders should have,

instead of wheat, their rations of corn in barley.

The war was now become grievous to both parties, and the

prospect of its continuance yet more fearful to Antony, in

respect that he was threatened with famine; for he could no

longer forage without wounds and slaughter.  And Phraates, on

the other side, was full of apprehension that, if the Romans

were to persist in carrying on the siege, the autumnal equinox

being past and the air already closing in for cold, he should be

deserted by his soldiers, who would suffer anything rather than

wintering in open field.  To prevent which, he had recourse to

the following deceit: he gave order to those of his men who had

made most acquaintance among the Roman soldiers, not to pursue

too close when they met them foraging, but to suffer them to

carry off some provision; moreover, that they should praise

their valor, and declare that it was not without just reason

that their king looked upon the Romans as the bravest men in the

world.  This done, upon further opportunity they rode nearer in,

and, drawing up their horses by the men, began to revile Antony

for his obstinacy; that whereas Phraates desired nothing more

than peace, and an occasion to show how ready he was to save the

lives of so many brave soldiers, he, on the contrary, gave no

opening to any friendly offers, but sat awaiting the arrival of

the two fiercest and worst enemies, winter and famine, from whom

it would be hard for them to make their escape, even with all

the good-will of the Parthians to help them.  Antony, having

these reports from many hands, began to indulge the hope;

nevertheless, he would not send any message to the Parthian till

he had put the question to these friendly talkers, whether what

they said was said by order of their king.  Receiving answer

that it was, together with new encouragement to believe them, he

sent some of his friends to demand once more the standards and

prisoners, lest, if he should ask nothing, he might be supposed

to be too thankful to have leave to retreat in quiet.  The

Parthian king made answer, that as for the standards and

prisoners, he need not trouble himself; but if he thought fit to

retreat, he might do it when he pleased, in peace and safety.

Some few days, therefore, being spent in collecting the baggage,

he set out upon his march.  On which occasion, though there was

no man of his time like him for addressing a multitude, or for

carrying soldiers with him by the force of words, out of shame

and sadness he could not find in his heart to speak himself, but

employed Domitius Aenobarbus.  And some of the soldiers resented

it, as an undervaluing of them; but the greater number saw the

true cause, and pitied it, and thought it rather a reason why

they on their side should treat their general with more respect

and obedience than ordinary.

Antony had resolved to return by the same way he came, which was

through a level country clear of all trees, but a certain

Mardian came to him (one that was very conversant with the

manners of the Parthians, and whose fidelity to the Romans had

been tried at the battle where the machines were lost), and

advised him to keep the mountains close on his right hand, and

not to expose his men, heavily armed, in a broad, open, riding

country, to the attacks of a numerous army of light-horse and

archers; that Phraates with fair promises had persuaded him from

the siege on purpose that he might with more ease cut him off in

his retreat; but, if so he pleased, he would conduct him by a

nearer route, on which moreover he should find the necessaries

for his army in greater abundance.  Antony upon this began to

consider what was best to be done; he was unwilling to seem to

have any mistrust of the Parthians after their treaty; but,

holding it to be really best to march his army the shorter and

more inhabited way, he demanded of the Mardian some assurance of

his faith, who offered himself to be bound until the army came

safe into Armenia.  Two days he conducted the army bound, and,

on the third, when Antony had given up all thought of the

enemy, and was marching at his ease in no very good order, the

Mardian, perceiving the bank of a river broken down, and the

water let out and overflowing the road by which they were to

pass, saw at once that this was the handiwork of the Parthians,

done out of mischief, and to hinder their march; so he advised

Antony to be upon his guard, for that the enemy was nigh at

hand.  And no sooner had he begun to put his men in order,

disposing the slingers and dart men in convenient intervals for

sallying out, but the Parthians came pouring in on all sides,

fully expecting to encompass them, and throw the whole army into

disorder.  They were at once attacked by the light troops, whom

they galled a good deal with their arrows; but, being themselves

as warmly entertained with the slings and darts, and many

wounded, they made their retreat.  Soon after, rallying up

afresh, they were beat back by a battalion of Gallic horse, and

appeared no more that day.

By their manner of attack Antony seeing what to do, not only

placed the slings and darts as a rear guard, but also lined both

flanks with them, and so marched in a square battle, giving

order to the horse to charge and beat off the enemy, but not to

follow them far as they retired.  So that the Parthians, not

doing more mischief for the four ensuing days than they

received, began to abate in their zeal, and, complaining that

the winter season was much advanced, pressed for returning home.

But, on the fifth day, Flavius Gallus, a brave and active

officer, who had a considerable command in the army, came to

Antony, desiring of him some light-infantry out of the rear, and

some horse out of the front, with which he would undertake to do

some considerable service.  Which when he had obtained, he beat

the enemy back, not withdrawing, as was usual, at the same time,

and retreating upon the mass of the heavy infantry, but

maintaining his own ground, and engaging boldly.  The officers

who commanded in the rear, perceiving how far he was getting

from the body of the army, sent to warn him back, but he took no

notice of them.  It is said that Titius the quaestor snatched

the standards and turned them round, upbraiding Gallus with thus

leading so many brave men to destruction.  But when he on the

other side reviled him again, and commanded the men that were

about him to stand firm, Titius made his retreat, and Gallus,

charging the enemies in the front, was encompassed by a party

that fell upon his rear, which at length perceiving, he sent a

messenger to demand succor.  But the commanders of the heavy

infantry, Canidius amongst others, a particular favorite of

Antony's, seem here to have committed a great oversight.  For,

instead of facing about with the whole body, they sent small

parties, and, when they were defeated, they still sent out small

parties, so that by their bad management the rout would have

spread through the whole army, if Antony himself had not marched

from the van at the head of the third legion, and, passing this

through among the fugitives, faced the enemies, and hindered

them from any further pursuit.

In this engagement were killed three thousand, five thousand

were carried back to the camp wounded, amongst the rest Gallus,

shot through the body with four arrows, of which wounds he died.

Antony went from tent to tent to visit and comfort the rest of

them, and was not able to see his men without tears and a

passion of grief.  They, however, seized his hand with joyful

faces, bidding him go and see to himself and not be concerned

about them, calling him their emperor and their general, and

saying that if he did well they were safe.  For in short, never

in all these times can history make mention of a general at the

head of a more splendid army; whether you consider strength and

youth, or patience and sufferance in labors and fatigues; but as

for the obedience and affectionate respect they bore their

general, and the unanimous feeling amongst small and great

alike, officers and common soldiers, to prefer his good opinion

of them to their very lives and being, in this part of military

excellence it was not possible that they could have been

surpassed by the very Romans of old.  For this devotion, as I

have said before, there were many reasons, as the nobility of

his family, his eloquence, his frank and open manners, his

liberal and magnificent habits, his familiarity in talking with

everybody, and, at this time particularly, his kindness in

assisting and pitying the sick, joining in all their pains, and

furnishing them with all things necessary, so that the sick and

wounded were even more eager to serve than those that were whole

and strong.

Nevertheless, this last victory had so encouraged the enemy,

that, instead of their former impatience and weariness, they

began soon to feel contempt for the Romans, staying all night

near the camp, in expectation of plundering their tents and

baggage, which they concluded they must abandon; and in the

morning new forces arrived in large masses, so that their number

was grown to be not less, it is said, than forty thousand horse;

and the king had sent the very guards that attended upon his own

person, as to a sure and unquestioned victory.  For he himself

was never present in any fight.  Antony, designing to harangue

the soldiers, called for a mourning habit, that he might move

them the more, but was dissuaded by his friends; so he came

forward in the general's scarlet cloak, and addressed them,

praising those that had gained the victory, and reproaching

those that had fled, the former answering him with promises of

success, and the latter excusing themselves, and telling him

they were ready to undergo decimation, or any other punishment

he should please to inflict upon them, only entreating that he

would forget and not discompose himself with their faults.  At

which he lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed the gods,

that if to balance the great favors he had received of them any

judgment lay in store, they would pour it upon his head alone,

and grant his soldiers victory.

The next day they took better order for their march, and the

Parthians, who thought they were marching rather to plunder than

to fight, were much taken aback, when they came up and were

received with a shower of missiles, to find the enemy not

disheartened, but fresh and resolute.  So that they themselves

began to lose courage.  But at the descent of a hill where the

Romans were obliged to pass, they got together, and let fly

their arrows upon them as they moved slowly down.  But the

full-armed infantry, facing round, received the light troops

within; and those in the first rank knelt on one knee, holding

their shields before them, the next rank holding theirs over the

first, and so again others over these, much like the tiling of a

house, or the rows of seats in a theater, the whole affording

sure defense against arrows, which glance upon them without

doing any harm.  The Parthians, seeing the Romans down upon

their knees, could not imagine but that it must proceed from

weariness; so that they laid down their bows, and, taking their

spears, made a fierce onset, when the Romans, with a great cry,

leapt upon their feet, striking hand to hand with their

javelins, slew the foremost, and put the rest to flight.  After

this rate it was every day, and the trouble they gave made the

marches short; in addition to which famine began to be felt in

the camp, for they could get but little corn, and that which

they got they were forced to fight for; and, besides this, they

were in want of implements to grind it and make bread.  For they

had left almost all behind, the baggage horses being dead or

otherwise employed in carrying the sick and wounded.  Provision

was so scarce in the army that an Attic quart of wheat sold for

fifty drachmas, and barley loaves for their weight in silver.

And when they tried vegetables and roots, they found such as

are commonly eaten very scarce, so that they were constrained to

venture upon any they could get, and, among others, they chanced

upon an herb that was mortal, first taking away all sense and

understanding.  He that had eaten of it remembered nothing in

the world, and employed himself only in moving great stones from

one place to another, which he did with as much earnestness and

industry as if it had been a business of the greatest

consequence.  Through all the camp there was nothing to be seen

but men grubbing upon the ground at stones, which they carried

from place to place.  But in the end they threw up bile and

died, as wine, moreover, which was the one antidote, failed.

When Antony saw them die so fast, and the Parthian still in

pursuit, he was heard to exclaim several times over, "O, the Ten

Thousand!" as if in admiration of the retreat of the Greeks with

Xenophon, who, when they had a longer journey to make from

Babylonia, and a more powerful enemy to deal with, nevertheless

came home safe.

The Parthians, finding that they could not divide the Roman

army, nor break the order of their battle, and that withal they

had been so often worsted, once more began to treat the foragers

with professions of humanity; they came up to them with their

bows unbended, telling them that they were going home to their

houses; that this was the end of their retaliation, and that

only some Median troops would follow for two or three days, not

with any design to annoy them, but for the defense of some of

the villages further on.  And, saying this, they saluted them

and embraced them with a great show of friendship.  This made

the Romans full of confidence again, and Antony, on hearing of

it, was more disposed to take the road through the level

country, being told that no water was to be hoped for on that

through the mountains.  But while he was preparing thus to do,

Mithridates came into the camp, a cousin to Monaeses, of whom we

related that he sought refuge with the Romans, and received in

gift from Antony the three cities.  Upon his arrival, he desired

somebody might be brought to him that could speak Syriac or

Parthian.  One Alexander, of Antioch, a friend of Antony's, was

brought to him, to whom the stranger, giving his name, and

mentioning Monaeses as the person who desired to do the

kindness, put the question, did he see that high range of hills,

pointing at some distance.  He told him, yes.  "It is there,"

said he, "the whole Parthian army lie in wait for your passage;

for the great plains come immediately up to them, and they

expect that, confiding in their promises, you will leave the

way of the mountains, and take the level route.  It is true that

in passing over the mountains you will suffer the want of water,

and the fatigue to which you have become familiar, but if you

pass through the plains, Antony must expect the fortune of

Crassus."

This said, he departed.  Antony, in alarm, calling his friends

in council, sent for the Mardian guide, who was of the same

opinion.  He told them that, with or without enemies, the want

of any certain track in the plain, and the likelihood of their

losing their way, were quite objection enough; the other route

was rough and without water, but then it was but for a day.

Antony, therefore, changing his mind, marched away upon this

road that night, commanding that everyone should carry water

sufficient for his own use; but most of them being unprovided

with vessels, they made shift with their helmets, and some with

skins.  As soon as they started, the news of it was carried to

the Parthians, who followed them, contrary to their custom,

through the night, and at sunrise attacked the rear, which was

tired with marching and want of sleep, and not in condition to

make any considerable defense.  For they had got through two

hundred and forty furlongs that night, and at the end of such a

march to find the enemy at their heels, put them out of heart.

Besides, having to fight for every step of the way increased

their distress from thirst.  Those that were in the van came up

to a river, the water of which was extremely cool and clear, but

brackish and medicinal, and, on being drunk, produced immediate

pains in the bowels and a renewed thirst.  Of this the Mardian

had forewarned them, but they could not forbear, and, beating

back those that opposed them, they drank of it.  Antony ran from

one place to another, begging they would have a little patience,

that not far off there was a river of wholesome water, and that

the rest of the way was so difficult for the horse, that the

enemy could pursue them no further; and, saying this, he ordered

to sound a retreat to call those back that were engaged, and

commanded the tents should be set up, that the soldiers might at

any rate refresh themselves in the shade.

But the tents were scarce well put up, and the Parthians

beginning, according to their custom, to withdraw, when

Mithridates came again to them, and informed Alexander, with

whom he had before spoken, that he would do well to advise

Antony to stay where he was no longer than needs he must, that,

after having refreshed his troops, he should endeavor with all

diligence to gain the next river, that the Parthians would not

cross it, but so far they were resolved to follow them.

Alexander made his report to Antony, who ordered a quantity of

gold plate to be carried to Mithridates, who, taking as much as

be could well hide under his clothes, went his way.  And, upon

this advice, Antony, while it was yet day, broke up his camp,

and the whole army marched forward without receiving any

molestation from the Parthians, though that night by their own

doing was in effect the most wretched and terrible that they

passed.  For some of the men began to kill and plunder those

whom they suspected to have any money, ransacked the baggage,

and seized the money there.  In the end, they laid hands on

Antony's own equipage, and broke all his rich tables and cups,

dividing the fragments amongst them.  Antony, hearing such a

noise and such a stirring to and fro all through the army, the

belief prevailing that the enemy had routed and cut off a

portion of the troops, called for one of his freedmen, then

serving as one of his guards, Rhamnus by name, and made him take

an oath that, whenever he should give him orders, he would run

his sword through his body and cut off his head, that he might

not fall alive into the hands of the Parthians, nor, when dead,

be recognized as the general.  While he was in this

consternation, and all his friends about him in tears, the

Mardian came up, and gave them all new life.  He convinced

them, by the coolness and humidity of the air, which they could

feel in breathing it, that the river which he had spoken of was

now not far off, and the calculation of the time that had been

required to reach it came, he said, to the same result, for the

night was almost spent.  And, at the same time, others came with

information that all the confusion in the camp proceeded only

from their own violence and robbery among themselves.  To

compose this tumult, and bring them again into some order after

their distraction, he commanded the signal to be given for a

halt.

Day began to break, and quiet and regularity were just

reappearing, when the Parthian arrows began to fly among the

rear, and the light armed troops were ordered out to battle.

And, being seconded by the heavy infantry, who covered one

another as before described with their shields, they bravely

received the enemy, who did not think convenient to advance any

further, while the van of the army, marching forward leisurely

in this manner came in sight of the river, and Antony, drawing

up the cavalry on the banks to confront the enemy, first passed

over the sick and wounded.  And, by this time, even those who

were engaged with the enemy had opportunity to drink at their

ease; for the Parthians, on seeing the river, unbent their bows,

and told the Romans they might pass over freely, and made them

great compliments in praise of their valor.  Having crossed

without molestation, they rested themselves awhile, and

presently went forward, not giving perfect credit to the fair

words of their enemies.  Six days after this last battle, they

arrived at the river Araxes, which divides Media and Armenia,

and seemed, both by its deepness and the violence of the

current, to be very dangerous to pass.  A report, also, had

crept in amongst them, that the enemy was in ambush, ready to

set upon them as soon as they should be occupied with their

passage.  But when they were got over on the other side, and

found themselves in Armenia, just as if land was now sighted

after a storm at sea, they kissed the ground for joy, shedding

tears and embracing each other in their delight.  But taking

their journey through a land that abounded in all sorts of

plenty, they ate, after their long want, with that excess of

everything they met with, that they suffered from dropsies and

dysenteries.

Here Antony, making a review of his army, found that he had lost

twenty thousand foot and four thousand horse, of which the

better half perished, not by the enemy, but by diseases.  Their

march was of twenty-seven days from Phraata, during which they

had beaten the Parthians in eighteen battles, though with little

effect or lasting result, because of their being so unable to

pursue.  By which it is manifest that it was Artavasdes who lost

Antony the benefit of the expedition.  For had the sixteen

thousand horsemen whom he led away out of Media, armed in the

same style as the Parthians and accustomed to their manner of

fight, been there to follow the pursuit when the Romans put them

to flight, it is impossible they could have rallied so often

after their defeats, and reappeared again as they did to renew

their attacks.  For this reason, the whole army was very earnest

with Antony to march into Armenia to take revenge.  But he, with

more reflection, forbore to notice the desertion, and continued

all his former courtesies, feeling that the army was wearied

out, and in want of all manner of necessaries.  Afterwards,

however, entering Armenia, with invitations and fair promises he

prevailed upon Artavasdes to meet him, when he seized him, bound

him, and carried him to Alexandria, and there led him in a

triumph; one of the things which most offended the Romans, who

felt as if all the honors and solemn observances of their

country were, for Cleopatra's sake, handed over to the

Egyptians.

This, however, was at an after time.  For the present, marching

his army in great haste in the depth of winter through continual

storms of snow, he lost eight thousand of his men, and came with

much diminished numbers to a place called the White Village,

between Sidon and Berytus, on the seacoast, where he waited for

the arrival of Cleopatra.  And, being impatient of the delay she

made, he bethought himself of shortening the time in wine and

drunkenness, and yet could not endure the tediousness of a meal,

but would start from table and run to see if she were coming.

Till at last she came into port, and brought with her clothes

and money for the soldiers.  Though some say that Antony only

received the clothes from her, and distributed his own money in

her name.

A quarrel presently happened between the king of Media and

Phraates of Parthia, beginning, it is said, about the division

of the booty that was taken from the Romans, and creating great

apprehension in the Median lest he should lose his kingdom.  He

sent, therefore, ambassadors to Antony, with offers of entering

into a confederate war against Phraates.  And Antony, full of

hopes at being thus asked, as a favor, to accept that one thing,

horse and archers, the want of which had hindered his beating

the Parthians before, began at once to prepare for a return to

Armenia, there to join the Medes on the Araxes, and begin the

war afresh.  But Octavia, in Rome, being desirous to see Antony,

asked Caesar's leave to go to him; which he gave her, not so

much, say most authors, to gratify his sister, as to obtain a

fair pretense to begin the war upon her dishonorable reception.

She no sooner arrived at Athens, but by letters from Antony she

was informed of his new expedition, and his will that she should

await him there.  And, though she were much displeased, not

being ignorant of the real reason of this usage, yet she wrote

to him to know to what place he would be pleased she should send

the things she had brought with her for his use; for she had

brought clothes for his soldiers, baggage, cattle, money, and

presents for his friends and officers, and two thousand chosen

soldiers sumptuously armed, to form praetorian cohorts.  This

message was brought from Octavia to Antony by Niger, one of his

friends, who added to it the praises she deserved so well.

Cleopatra, feeling her rival already, as it were, at hand, was

seized with fear, lest if to her noble life and her high

alliance, she once could add the charm of daily habit and

affectionate intercourse, she should become irresistible, and be

his absolute mistress for ever.  So she feigned to be dying for

love of Antony, bringing her body down by slender diet; when he

entered the room, she fixed her eyes upon him in a rapture, and

when he left, seemed to languish and half faint away.  She took

great pains that he should see her in tears, and, as soon as he

noticed it, hastily dried them up and turned away, as if it were

her wish that he should know nothing of it.  All this was acting

while he prepared for Media; and Cleopatra's creatures were not

slow to forward the design, upbraiding Antony with his

unfeeling, hard-hearted temper, thus letting a woman perish

whose soul depended upon him and him alone.  Octavia, it was

true, was his wife, and had been married to him because it was

found convenient for the affairs of her brother that it should

be so, and she had the honor of the title; but Cleopatra, the

sovereign queen of many nations, had been contented with the

name of his mistress, nor did she shun or despise the character

whilst she might see him, might live with him, and enjoy him; if

she were bereaved of this, she would not survive the loss.  In

fine, they so melted and unmanned him, that, fully believing she

would die if he forsook her, he put off the war and returned to

Alexandria, deferring his Median expedition until next summer,

though news came of the Parthians being all in confusion with

intestine disputes.  Nevertheless, he did some time after go

into that country, and made an alliance with the king of Media,

by marriage of a son of his by Cleopatra to the king's daughter,

who was yet very young; and so returned, with his thoughts taken

up about the civil war.

When Octavia returned from Athens, Caesar, who considered she

had been injuriously treated, commanded her to live in a

separate house; but she refused to leave the house of her

husband, and entreated him, unless he had already resolved, upon

other motives, to make war with Antony, that he would on her

account let it alone; it would be intolerable to have it said of

the two greatest commanders in the world, that they had

involved the Roman people in a civil war, the one out of passion

for; the other out of resentment about, a woman.  And her

behavior proved her words to be sincere.  She remained in

Antony's house as if he were at home in it, and took the noblest

and most generous care, not only of his children by her, but of

those by Fulvia also.  She received all the friends of Antony

that came to Rome to seek office or upon any business, and did

her utmost to prefer their requests to Caesar; yet this her

honorable deportment did but, without her meaning it, damage the

reputation of Antony; the wrong he did to such a woman made him

hated.  Nor was the division he made among his sons at

Alexandria less unpopular; it seemed a theatrical piece of

insolence and contempt of his country.  For, assembling the

people in the exercise ground, and causing two golden thrones to

be placed on a platform of silver, the one for him and the other

for Cleopatra, and at their feet lower thrones for their

children, he proclaimed Cleopatra queen of Egypt, Cyprus, Libya,

and Coele-Syria, and with her conjointly Caesarion, the reputed

son of the former Caesar, who left Cleopatra with child.  His

own sons by Cleopatra were to have the style of kings of kings;

to Alexander he gave Armenia and Media, with Parthia, so soon as

it should be overcome; to Ptolemy, Phoenicia, Syria, and

Cilicia.  Alexander was brought out before the people in the

Median costume, the tiara and upright peak, and Ptolemy, in

boots and mantle and Macedonian cap done about with the diadem;

for this was the habit of the successors of Alexander, as the

other was of the Medes and Armenians.  And, as soon as they had

saluted their parents, the one was received by a guard of

Macedonians, the other by one of Armenians.  Cleopatra was then,

as at other times when she appeared in public, dressed in the

habit of the goddess Isis, and gave audience to the people under

the name of the New Isis.

Caesar, relating these things in the senate, and often

complaining to the people, excited men's minds against Antony.

And Antony also sent messages of accusation against Caesar.  The

principal of his charges were these: first, that he had not made

any division with him of Sicily, which was lately taken from

Pompey; secondly, that he had retained the ships he had lent him

for the war; thirdly, that after deposing Lepidus, their

colleague, he had taken for himself the army, governments, and

revenues formerly appropriated to him; and, lastly, that he had

parceled out almost all Italy amongst his own soldiers, and left

nothing for his.  Caesar's answer was as follows: that he had

put Lepidus out of government because of his own misconduct;

that what he had got in war he would divide with Antony, so soon

as Antony gave him a share of Armenia; that Antony's soldiers

had no claims in Italy, being in possession of Media and

Parthia, the acquisitions which their brave actions under their

general had added to the Roman empire.

Antony was in Armenia when this answer came to him, and

immediately sent Canidius with sixteen legions towards the sea;

but he, in the company of Cleopatra, went to Ephesus, whither

ships were coming in from all quarters to form the navy,

consisting, vessels of burden included, of eight hundred

vessels, of which Cleopatra furnished two hundred, together with

twenty thousand talents, and provision for the whole army during

the war.  Antony, on the advice of Domitius and some others,

bade Cleopatra return into Egypt, there to expect the event of

the war; but she, dreading some new reconciliation by Octavia's

means, prevailed with Canidius, by a large sum of money, to

speak in her favor with Antony, pointing out to him that it was

not just that one that bore so great a part in the charge of the

war should be robbed of her share of glory in the carrying it

on: nor would it be politic to disoblige the Egyptians, who were

so considerable a part of his naval forces; nor did he see how

she was inferior in prudence to any one of the kings that were

serving with him; she had long governed a great kingdom by

herself alone, and long lived with him, and gained experience in

public affairs.  These arguments (so the fate that destined all

to Caesar would have it), prevailed; and when all their forces

had met, they sailed together to Samos, and held high

festivities.  For, as it was ordered that all kings, princes,

and governors, all nations and cities within the limits of

Syria, the Maeotid Lake, Armenia, and Illyria, should bring or

cause to be brought all munitions necessary for war, so was it

also proclaimed that all stage-players should make their

appearance at Samos; so that, while pretty nearly the whole

world was filled with groans and lamentations, this one island

for some days resounded with piping and harping, theaters

filling, and choruses playing.  Every city sent an ox as its

contribution to the sacrifice, and the kings that accompanied

Antony competed who should make the most magnificent feasts and

the greatest presents; and men began to ask themselves, what

would be done to celebrate the victory, when they went to such

an expense of festivity at the opening of the war.

This over, he gave Priene to his players for a habitation, and

set sail for Athens, where fresh sports and play-acting employed

him.  Cleopatra, jealous of the honors Octavia had received at

Athens (for Octavia was much beloved by the Athenians), courted

the favor of the people with all sorts of attentions.  The

Athenians, in requital, having decreed her public honors,

deputed several of the citizens to wait upon her at her house;

amongst whom went Antony as one, he being an Athenian citizen,

and he it was that made the speech.  He sent orders to Rome to

have Octavia removed out of his house.  She left it, we are

told, accompanied by all his children, except the eldest by

Fulvia, who was then with his father, weeping and grieving that

she must be looked upon as one of the causes of the war.  But

the Romans pitied, not so much her, as Antony himself, and more

particularly those who had seen Cleopatra, whom they could

report to have no way the advantage of Octavia either in youth

or in beauty.

The speed and extent of Antony's preparations alarmed Caesar,

who feared he might be forced to fight the decisive battle that

summer.  For he wanted many necessaries, and the people grudged

very much to pay the taxes; freemen being called upon to pay a

fourth part of their incomes, and freed slaves an eighth of

their property, so that there were loud outcries against him,

and disturbances throughout all Italy.  And this is looked upon

as one of the greatest of Antony's oversights, that he did not

then press the war.  For he allowed time at once for Caesar to

make his preparations, and for the commotions to pass over.  For

while people were having their money called for, they were

mutinous and violent; but, having paid it, they held their

peace.  Titius and Plancus, men of consular dignity and friends

to Antony, having been ill used by Cleopatra, whom they had most

resisted in her design of being present in the war, came over to

Caesar, and gave information of the contents of Antony's will,

with which they were acquainted.  It was deposited in the hands

of the vestal virgins, who refused to deliver it up, and sent

Caesar word, if he pleased, he should come and seize it himself,

which he did.  And, reading it over to himself, he noted those

places that were most for his purpose, and, having summoned the

senate, read them publicly.  Many were scandalized at the

proceeding, thinking it out of reason and equity to call a man

to account for what was not to be until after his death.  Caesar

specially pressed what Antony said in his will about his burial;

for he had ordered that even if he died in the city of Rome, his

body, after being carried in state through the forum, should be

sent to Cleopatra at Alexandria.  Calvisius, a dependent of

Caesar's, urged other charges in connection with Cleopatra

against Antony; that he had given her the library of Pergamus,

containing two hundred thousand distinct volumes; that at a

great banquet, in the presence of many guests, he had risen up

and rubbed her feet, to fulfill some wager or promise; that he

had suffered the Ephesians to salute her as their queen; that he

had frequently at the public audience of kings and princes

received amorous messages written in tablets made of onyx and

crystal, and read them openly on the tribunal; that when

Furnius, a man of great authority and eloquence among the

Romans, was pleading, Cleopatra happening to pass by in her

chair, Antony started up and left them in the middle of their

cause, to follow at her side and attend her home.

Calvisius, however, was looked upon as the inventor of most of

these stories.  Antony's friends went up and down the city to

gain him credit, and sent one of themselves, Geminius, to him,

to beg him to take heed and not allow himself to be deprived by

vote of his authority, and proclaimed a public enemy to the

Roman state.  But Geminius no sooner arrived in Greece but he

was looked upon as one of Octavia's spies; at their suppers he

was made a continual butt for mockery, and was put to sit in the

least honorable places; all which he bore very well, seeking

only an occasion of speaking with Antony.  So, at supper, being

told to say what business he came about, he answered he would

keep the rest for a soberer hour, but one thing he had to say,

whether full or fasting, that all would go well if Cleopatra

would return to Egypt.  And on Antony showing his anger at it,

"You have done well, Geminius," said Cleopatra, "to tell your

secret without being put to the rack." So Geminius, after a few

days, took occasion to make his escape and go to Rome.  Many

more of Antony's friends were driven from him by the insolent

usage they had from Cleopatra's flatterers, amongst whom were

Marcus Silanus and Dellius the historian.  And Dellius says he

was afraid of his life, and that Glaucus, the physician,

informed him of Cleopatra's design against him.  She was angry

with him for having said that Antony's friends were served with

sour wine, while at Rome Sarmentus, Caesar's little page (his

delicia, as the Romans call it), drank Falernian.

As soon as Caesar had completed his preparations, he had a

decree made, declaring war on Cleopatra, and depriving Antony of

the authority which he had let a woman exercise in his place.

Caesar added that he had drunk potions that had bereaved him of

his senses, and that the generals they would have to fight with

would be Mardion the eunuch, Pothinus, Iras, Cleopatra's

hairdressing girl, and Charmion, who were Antony's chief

state-councillors.

These prodigies are said to have announced the war.  Pisaurum,

where Antony had settled a colony, on the Adriatic sea, was

swallowed up by an earthquake; sweat ran from one of the marble

statues of Antony at Alba for many days together, and, though

frequently wiped off, did not stop.  When he himself was in the

city of Patrae, the temple of Hercules was struck by lightning,

and, at Athens, the figure of Bacchus was torn by a violent wind

out of the Battle of the Giants, and laid flat upon the

theater; with both which deities Antony claimed connection,

professing to be descended from Hercules, and from his imitating

Bacchus in his way of living having received the name of Young

Bacchus.  The same whirlwind at Athens also brought down, from

amongst many others which were not disturbed, the colossal

statues of Eumenes and Attalus, which were inscribed with

Antony's name.  And in Cleopatra's admiral-galley, which was

called the Antonias, a most inauspicious omen occurred.  Some

swallows had built in the stern of the galley, but other

swallows came, beat the first away, and destroyed their nests.

When the armaments gathered for the war, Antony had no less than

five hundred ships of war, including numerous galleys of eight

and ten banks of oars, as richly ornamented as if they were

meant for a triumph.  He had a hundred thousand foot and twelve

thousand horse.  He had vassal kings attending, Bocchus of

Libya, Tarcondemus of the Upper Cilicia, Archelaus of

Cappadocia, Philadelphus of Paphlagonia, Mithridates of

Commagene, and Sadalas of Thrace; all these were with him in

person.  Out of Pontus Polemon sent him considerable forces, as

did also Malchus from Arabia, Herod the Jew, and Amyntas, king

of Lycaonia and Galatia; also the Median king sent some troops

to join him.  Caesar had two hundred and fifty galleys of war,

eighty thousand foot, and horse about equal to the enemy.

Antony's empire extended from Euphrates and Armenia to the

Ionian sea and the Illyrians; Caesar's, from Illyria to the

westward ocean, and from the ocean all along the Tuscan and

Sicilian sea.  Of Africa, Caesar had all the coast opposite to

Italy, Gaul, and Spain, as far as the Pillars of Hercules, and

Antony the provinces from Cyrene to Ethiopia.

But so wholly was he now the mere appendage to the person of

Cleopatra, that, although he was much superior to the enemy in

land-forces, yet, out of complaisance to his mistress, he wished

the victory to be gained by sea, and that, too, when he could

not but see how, for want of sailors, his captains, all through

unhappy Greece, were pressing every description of men, common

travelers and ass-drivers, harvest laborers and boys, and for

all this the vessels had not their complements, but remained,

most of them, ill-manned and badly rowed.  Caesar, on the other

side, had ships that were built not for size or show, but for

service, not pompous galleys, but light, swift, and perfectly

manned; and from his head-quarters at Tarentum and Brundusium he

sent messages to Antony not to protract the war, but come out

with his forces; he would give him secure roadsteads and ports

for his fleet, and, for his land army to disembark and pitch

their camp, he would leave him as much ground in Italy, inland

from the sea, as a horse could traverse in a single course.

Antony, on the other side, with the like bold language,

challenged him to a single combat, though he were much the

older; and, that being refused, proposed to meet him in the

Pharsalian fields, where Caesar and Pompey had fought before.

But whilst Antony lay with his fleet near Actium, where now

stands Nicopolis, Caesar seized his opportunity, and crossed the

Ionian sea, securing himself at a place in Epirus called the

Ladle. And when those about Antony were much disturbed, their

land-forces being a good way off, "Indeed," said Cleopatra, in

mockery, "we may well be frightened if Caesar has got hold of

the Ladle!"

On the morrow, Antony, seeing the enemy sailing up, and fearing

lest his ships might be taken for want of the soldiers to go on

board of them, armed all the rowers, and made a show upon the

decks of being in readiness to fight; the oars were mounted as

if waiting to be put in motion, and the vessels themselves drawn

up to face the enemy on either side of the channel of Actium, as

though they were properly manned, and ready for an engagement

And Caesar, deceived by this stratagem, retired.  He was also

thought to have shown considerable skill in cutting off the

water from the enemy by some lines of trenches and forts, water

not being plentiful anywhere else, nor very good.  And again,

his conduct to Domitius was generous, much against the will of

Cleopatra.  For when he had made his escape in a little boat to

Caesar, having then a fever upon him, although Antony could not

but resent it highly, yet he sent after him his whole equipage,

with his friends and servants; and Domitius, as if he would give

a testimony to the world how repentant he had become on his

desertion and treachery being thus manifest, died soon after.

Among the kings, also, Amyntas and Deiotarus went over to

Caesar.  And the fleet was so unfortunate in everything that

was undertaken, and so unready on every occasion, that Antony

was driven again to put his confidence in the land-forces.

Canidius, too, who commanded the legions, when he saw how things

stood, changed his opinion, and now was of advice that Cleopatra

should be sent back, and that, retiring into Thrace or

Macedonia, the quarrel should be decided in a land fight.  For

Dicomes, also, the king of the Getae, promised to come and join

him with a great army, and it would not be any kind of

disparagement to him to yield the sea to Caesar, who, in the

Sicilian wars, had had such long practice in ship-fighting; on

the contrary, it would be simply ridiculous for Antony, who was

by land the most experienced commander living, to make no use of

his well-disciplined and numerous infantry, scattering and

wasting his forces by parceling them out in the ships.  But for

all this, Cleopatra prevailed that a sea-fight should determine

all, having already an eye to flight, and ordering all her

affairs, not so as to assist in gaining a victory, but to escape

with the greatest safety from the first commencement of a

defeat.

There were two long walls, extending from the camp to the

station of the ships, between which Antony used to pass to and

fro without suspecting any danger.  But Caesar, upon the

suggestion of a servant that it would not be difficult to

surprise him, laid an ambush, which, rising up somewhat too

hastily, seized the man that came just before him, he himself

escaping narrowly by flight.

When it was resolved to stand to a fight at sea, they set fire

to all the Egyptian ships except sixty; and of these the best

and largest, from ten banks down to three, he manned with twenty

thousand full-armed men, and two thousand archers.  Here it is

related that a foot captain, one that had fought often under

Antony, and had his body all mangled with wounds, exclaimed, "O,

my general, what have our wounds and swords done to displease

you, that you should give your confidence to rotten timbers?

Let Egyptians and Phoenicians contend at sea, give us the land,

where we know well how to die upon the spot or gain the

victory."  To which he answered nothing, but, by his look and

motion of his hand seeming to bid him be of good courage, passed

forwards, having already, it would seem, no very sure hopes,

since when the masters proposed leaving the sails behind them,

he commanded they should be put aboard, "For we must not," said

he, "let one enemy escape."

That day and the three following the sea was so rough they could

not engage.  But on the fifth there was a calm, and they fought;

Antony commanding with Publicola the right, and Coelius the left

squadron, Marcus Octavius and Marcus Insteius the center.

Caesar gave the charge of the left to Agrippa, commanding in

person on the right.  As for the land-forces, Canidius was

general for Antony, Taurus for Caesar; both armies remaining

drawn up in order along the shore.  Antony in a small boat went

from one ship to another, encouraging his soldiers, and bidding

them stand firm, and fight as steadily on their large ships as

if they were on land.  The masters he ordered that they should

receive the enemy lying still as if they were at anchor, and

maintain the entrance of the port, which was a narrow and

difficult passage.  Of Caesar they relate, that, leaving his

tent and going round, while it was yet dark, to visit the ships,

he met a man driving an ass, and asked him his name.  He

answered him that his own name was "Fortunate, and my ass," says

he, "is called Conqueror."  And afterwards, when he disposed

the beaks of the ships in that place in token of his victory,

the statue of this man and his ass in bronze were placed amongst

them.  After examining the rest of his fleet, he went in a boat

to the right wing, and looked with much admiration at the enemy

lying perfectly still in the straits, in all appearance as if

they had been at anchor.  For some considerable length of time

he actually thought they were so, and kept his own ships at

rest, at a distance of about eight furlongs from them.  But

about noon a breeze sprang up from the sea, and Antony's men,

weary of expecting the enemy so long, and trusting to their

large tall vessels, as if they had been invincible, began to

advance the left squadron.  Caesar was overjoyed to see them

move, and ordered his own right squadron to retire, that he

might entice them out to sea as far as he could, his design

being to sail round and round, and so with his light and

well-manned galleys to attack these huge vessels, which their

size and their want of men made slow to move and difficult to

manage.

When they engaged, there was no charging or striking of one ship

by another, because Antony's, by reason of their great bulk,

were incapable of the rapidity required to make the stroke

effectual, and, on the other side, Caesar's durst not charge

head to head on Antony's, which were all armed with solid masses

and spikes of brass; nor did they like even to run in on their

sides, which were so strongly built with great squared pieces of

timber, fastened together with iron bolts, that their vessels'

beaks would easily have been shattered upon them.  So that the

engagement resembled a land fight, or, to speak yet more

properly, the attack and defense of a fortified place; for there

were always three or four vessels of Caesar's about one of

Antony's, pressing them with spears, javelins, poles, and

several inventions of fire, which they flung among them,

Antony's men using catapults also, to pour down missiles from

wooden towers.  Agrippa drawing out the squadron under his

command to outflank the enemy, Publicola was obliged to observe

his motions, and gradually to break off from the middle

squadron, where some confusion and alarm ensued, while

Arruntius engaged them.  But the fortune of the day was still

undecided, and the battle equal, when on a sudden Cleopatra's

sixty ships were seen hoisting sail and making out to sea in

full flight, right through the ships that were engaged.  For

they were placed behind the great ships, which, in breaking

through, they put into disorder.  The enemy was astonished to

see them sailing off with a fair wind towards Peloponnesus.

Here it was that Antony showed to all the world that he was no

longer actuated by the thoughts and motives of a commander or a

man, or indeed by his own judgment at all, and what was once

said as a jest, that the soul of a lover lives in some one

else's body, he proved to be a serious truth.  For, as if he had

been born part of her, and must move with her wheresoever she

went, as soon as he saw her ship sailing away, he abandoned all

that were fighting and spending their lives for him, and put

himself aboard a galley of five ranks of oars, taking with him

only Alexander of Syria and Scellias, to follow her that had so

well begun his ruin and would hereafter accomplish it.

She, perceiving him to follow, gave the signal to come aboard.

So, as soon as he came up with them, he was taken into the ship.

But without seeing her or letting himself be seen by her, he

went forward by himself, and sat alone, without a word, in the

ship's prow, covering his face with his two hands.  In the

meanwhile, some of Caesar's light Liburnian ships, that were in

pursuit, came in sight.  But on Antony's commanding to face

about, they all gave back except Eurycles the Laconian, who

pressed on, shaking a lance from the deck, as if he meant to

hurl it at him.  Antony, standing at the prow, demanded of him,

"Who is this that pursues Antony?"  "I am," said he, "Eurycles,

the son of Lachares, armed with Caesar's fortune to revenge my

father's death."  Lachares had been condemned for a robbery, and

beheaded by Antony's orders.  However, Eurycles did not attack

Antony, but ran with his full force upon the other

admiral-galley (for there were two of them), and with the blow

turned her round, and took both her and another ship, in which

was a quantity of rich plate and furniture.  So soon as Eurycles

was gone, Antony returned to his posture, and sat silent, and

thus he remained for three days, either in anger with Cleopatra,

or wishing not to upbraid her, at the end of which they touched

at Taenarus.  Here the women of their company succeeded first in

bringing them to speak, and afterwards to eat and sleep

together.  And, by this time, several of the ships of burden and

some of his friends began to come in to him from the rout,

bringing news of his fleet's being quite destroyed, but that the

land-forces, they thought, still stood firm.  So that he sent

messengers to Canidius to march the army with all speed through

Macedonia into Asia.  And, designing himself to go from Taenarus

into Africa, he gave one of the merchant ships, laden with a

large sum of money, and vessels of silver and gold of great

value, belonging to the royal collections, to his friends,

desiring them to share it amongst them, and provide for their

own safety.  They refusing his kindness with tears in their

eyes, he comforted them with all the goodness and humanity

imaginable, entreating them to leave him, and wrote letters in

their behalf to Theophilus, his steward, at Corinth, that he

would provide for their security, and keep them concealed till

such time as they could make their peace with Caesar.  This

Theophilus was the father of Hipparchus, who had such interest

with Antony, who was the first of all his freedmen that went

over to Caesar, and who settled afterwards at Corinth.  In this

posture were affairs with Antony.

But at Actium, his fleet, after a long resistance to Caesar, and

suffering the most damage from a heavy sea that set in right

ahead, scarcely, at four in the afternoon, gave up the contest,

with the loss of not more than five thousand men killed, but of

three hundred ships taken, as Caesar himself has recorded.  Only

few had known of Antony's flight; and those who were told of it

could not at first give any belief to so incredible a thing, as

that a general who had nineteen entire legions and twelve

thousand horse upon the sea-shore, could abandon all and fly

away; and he, above all, who had so often experienced both good

and evil fortune, and had in a thousand wars and battles been

inured to changes.  His soldiers, howsoever would not give up

their desires and expectations, still fancying he would appear

from some part or other, and showed such a generous fidelity to

his service, that, when they were thoroughly assured that he was

fled in earnest, they kept themselves in a body seven days,

making no account of the messages that Caesar sent to them.  But

at last, seeing that Canidius himself, who commanded them, was

fled from the camp by night, and that all their officers had

quite abandoned them, they gave way, and made their submission

to the conqueror.  After this, Caesar set sail for Athens, where

he made a settlement with Greece, and distributed what remained

of the provision of corn that Antony had made for his army among

the cities, which were in a miserable condition, despoiled of

their money, their slaves, their horses, and beasts of service.

My great-grandfather Nicarchus used to relate, that the whole

body of the people of our city were put in requisition to carry

each one a certain measure of corn upon their shoulders to the

sea-side near Anticyra, men standing by to quicken them with the

lash.  They had made one journey of the kind, but when they had

just measured out the corn and were putting it on their backs

for a second, news came of Antony's defeat, and so saved

Chaeronea, for all Antony's purveyors and soldiers fled upon the

news, and left them to divide the corn among themselves.

When Antony came into Africa, he sent on Cleopatra from

Paraetonium into Egypt, and stayed himself in the most entire

solitude that he could desire, roaming and wandering about with

only two friends, one a Greek, Aristocrates, a rhetorician, and

the other a Roman, Lucilius, of whom we have elsewhere spoken,

how, at Philippi, to give Brutus time to escape, he suffered

himself to be taken by the pursuers, pretending he was Brutus.

Antony gave him his life, and on this account he remained true

and faithful to him to the last.

But when also the officer who commanded for him in Africa, to

whose care he had committed all his forces there, took them over

to Caesar, he resolved to kill himself, but was hindered by his

friends.  And coming to Alexandria, he found Cleopatra busied in

a most bold and wonderful enterprise.  Over the small space of

land which divides the Red Sea from the sea near Egypt, which

may be considered also the boundary between Asia and Africa, and

in the narrowest place is not much above three hundred furlongs

across, over this neck of land Cleopatra had formed a project of

dragging her fleet, and setting it afloat in the Arabian Gulf,

thus with her soldiers and her treasure to secure herself a home

on the other side, where she might live in peace, far away from

war and slavery.  But the first galleys which were carried over

being burnt by the Arabians of Petra, and Antony not knowing but

that the army before Actium still held together, she desisted

from her enterprise, and gave orders for the fortifying all the

approaches to Egypt.  But Antony, leaving the city and the

conversation of his friends, built him a dwelling-place in the

water, near Pharos, upon a little mole which he cast up in the

sea, and there, secluding himself from the company of mankind,

said he desired nothing but to live the life of Timon; as,

indeed, his case was the same, and the ingratitude and injuries

which he suffered from those he had esteemed his friends, made

him hate and mistrust all mankind.

This Timon was a citizen of Athens, and lived much about the

Peloponnesian war, as may be seen by the comedies of

Aristophanes and Plato, in which he is ridiculed as the hater

and enemy of mankind.  He avoided and repelled the approaches of

everyone, but embraced with kisses and the greatest show of

affection Alcibiades, then in his hot youth.  And when Apemantus

was astonished, and demanded the reason, he replied that he knew

this young man would one day do infinite mischief to the

Athenians.  He never admitted anyone into his company, except

at times this Apemantus, who was of the same sort of temper, and

was an imitator of his way of life.  At the celebration of the

festival of flagons, these two kept the feast together, and

Apemantus saying to him, "What a pleasant party, Timon!"  "It

would be," he answered, "if you were away."  One day he got up

in a full assembly on the speaker's place, and when there was a

dead silence and great wonder at so unusual a sight, he said,

"Ye men of Athens, I have a little plot of ground, and in it

grows a fig-tree, on which many citizens have been pleased to

hang themselves; and now, having resolved to build in that

place, I wished to announce it publicly that any of you who may

be desirous may go and hang yourselves before I cut it down."

He died and was buried at Halae, near the sea, where it so

happened that, after his burial, a land-slip took place on the

point of the shore, and the sea, flowing in, surrounded his

tomb, and made it inaccessible to the foot of man.  It bore this

inscription: —

Here am I laid, my life of misery done.

Ask not my name, I curse you every one.

And this epitaph was made by himself while yet alive; that which

is more generally known is by Callimachus: —

Timon, the misanthrope, am I below.

Go, and revile me, traveler, only go.

Thus much of Timon, of whom much more might be said.  Canidius

now came, bringing word in person of the loss of the army before

Actium.  Then he received news that Herod of Judaea was gone

over to Caesar with some legions and cohorts, and that the other

kings and princes were in like manner deserting him, and that,

out of Egypt, nothing stood by him.  All this, however, seemed

not to disturb him, but, as if he were glad to put away all

hope, that with it he might be rid of all care, and leaving his

habitation by the sea, which he called the Timoneum, he was

received by Cleopatra in the palace, and set the whole city into

a course of feasting, drinking, and presents.  The son of Caesar

and Cleopatra was registered among the youths, and Antyllus, his

own son by Fulvia, received the gown without the purple border,

given to those that are come of age; in honor of which the

citizens of Alexandria did nothing but feast and revel for many

days.  They themselves broke up the Order of the Inimitable

Livers, and constituted another in its place, not inferior in

splendor, luxury, and sumptuosity, calling it that of the Diers

together. For all those that said they would die with Antony

and Cleopatra gave in their names, for the present passing their

time in all manner of pleasures and a regular succession of

banquets.  But Cleopatra was busied in making a collection of

all varieties of poisonous drugs, and, in order to see which of

them were the least painful in the operation, she had them tried

upon prisoners condemned to die.  But, finding that the quick

poisons always worked with sharp pains, and that the less

painful were slow, she next tried venomous animals, and watched

with her own eyes whilst they were applied, one creature to the

body of another.  This was her daily practice, and she pretty

well satisfied herself that nothing was comparable to the bite

of the asp, which, without convulsion or groaning, brought on a

heavy drowsiness and lethargy, with a gentle sweat on the face,

the senses being stupefied by degrees; the patient, in

appearance, being sensible of no pain, but rather troubled to be

disturbed or awakened, like those that are in a profound natural

sleep.

At the same time, they sent ambassadors to Caesar into Asia,

Cleopatra asking for the kingdom of Egypt for her children, and

Antony, that he might have leave to live as a private man in

Egypt, or, if that were thought too much, that he might retire

to Athens.  In lack of friends, so many having deserted, and

others not being trusted, Euphronius, his son's tutor, was sent

on this embassy.  For Alexas of Laodicea, who, by the

recommendation of Timagenes, became acquainted with Antony at

Rome, and had been more powerful with him than any Greek, and

was, of all the instruments which Cleopatra made use of to

persuade Antony, the most violent, and the chief subverter of

any good thoughts that, from time to time, might rise in his

mind in Octavia's favor, had been sent before to dissuade Herod

from desertion; but, betraying his master, stayed with him, and,

confiding in Herod's interest, had the boldness to come into

Caesar's presence.  Herod, however, was not able to help him,

for he was immediately put in chains, and sent into his own

country, where, by Caesar's order, he was put to death.  This

reward of his treason Alexas received while Antony was yet

alive.

Caesar would not listen to any proposals for Antony, but he made

answer to Cleopatra, that there was no reasonable favor which

she might not expect, if she put Antony to death, or expelled

him from Egypt.  He sent back with the ambassadors his own

freedman Thyrsus, a man of understanding, and not at all

ill-qualified for conveying the messages of a youthful general

to a woman so proud of her charms and possessed with the opinion

of the power of her beauty.  But by the long audiences he

received from her, and the special honors which she paid him,

Antony's jealousy began to be awakened; he had him seized,

whipped, and sent back; writing Caesar word that the man's busy,

impertinent ways had provoked him; in his circumstances he could

not be expected to be very patient: "But if it offend you," he

added, "you have got my freedman, Hipparchus, with you; hang him

up and scourge him to make us even."  But Cleopatra, after this,

to clear herself, and to allay his jealousies, paid him all the

attentions imaginable.  When her own birthday came, she kept it

as was suitable to their fallen fortunes; but his was observed

with the utmost prodigality of splendor and magnificence, so

that many of the guests sat down in want, and went home wealthy

men.  Meantime, continual letters came to Caesar from Agrippa,

telling him his presence was extremely required at Rome.

And so the war was deferred for a season.  But, the winter being

over, he began his march; he himself by Syria, and his captains

through Africa.  Pelusium being taken, there went a report as if

it had been delivered up to Caesar by Seleucus not without the

consent of Cleopatra; but she, to justify herself, gave up into

Antony's hands the wife and children of Seleucus to be put to

death.  She had caused to be built, joining to the temple of Isis,

several tombs and monuments of wonderful height, and very

remarkable for the workmanship; thither she removed her

treasure, her gold, silver, emeralds, pearls, ebony, ivory,

cinnamon, and, after all, a great quantity of torchwood and tow.

Upon which Caesar began to fear lest she should, in a desperate

fit, set all these riches on fire; and, therefore, while he was

marching towards the city with his army, he omitted no occasion

of giving her new assurances of his good intentions.  He took up

his position in the Hippodrome, where Antony made a fierce sally

upon him, routed the horse, and beat them back into their

trenches, and so returned with great satisfaction to the palace,

where, meeting Cleopatra, armed as he was, he kissed her, and

commended to her favor one of his men, who had most signalized

himself in the fight, to whom she made a present of a

breastplate and helmet of gold; which he having received, went

that very night and deserted to Caesar.

After this, Antony sent a new challenge to Caesar, to fight him

hand to hand; who made him answer that he might find several

other ways to end his life; and he, considering with himself

that he could not die more honorably than in battle, resolved to

make an effort both by land and sea.  At supper, it is said, he

bade his servants help him freely, and pour him out wine

plentifully, since tomorrow, perhaps, they should not do the

same, but be servants to a new master, whilst he should lie on

the ground, a dead corpse, and nothing.  His friends that were

about him wept to hear him talk so; which he perceiving, told

them he would not lead them to a battle in which he expected

rather an honorable death than either safety or victory.  That

night, it is related, about the middle of it, when the whole

city was in a deep silence and general sadness, expecting the

event of the next day, on a sudden was heard the sound of all

sorts of instruments, and voices singing in tune, and the cry of

a crowd of people shouting and dancing, like a troop of

bacchanals on its way.  This tumultuous procession seemed to

take its course right through the middle of the city to the gate

nearest the enemy; here it became loudest, and suddenly passed

out.  People who reflected considered this to signify that

Bacchus, the god whom Antony had always made it his study to

copy and imitate, had now forsaken him.

As soon as it was light, he marched his infantry out of the

city, and posted them upon a rising ground, from whence he saw

his fleet make up to the enemy.  There he stood in expectation

of the event; but, as soon as the fleets came near to one

another, his men saluted Caesar's with their oars; and, on their

responding, the whole body of the ships, forming into a single

fleet, rowed up direct to the city.  Antony had no sooner seen

this, but the horse deserted him, and went over to Caesar; and

his foot being defeated, he retired into the city, crying out

that Cleopatra had betrayed him to the enemies he had made for

her sake.  She, being afraid lest in his fury and despair he

might do her a mischief, fled to her monument, and letting down

the falling doors, which were strong with bars and bolts, she

sent messengers who should tell Antony she was dead.  He,

believing it, cried out, "Now, Antony, why delay longer?  Fate

has snatched away the only pretext for which you could say you

desired yet to live."  Going into his chamber, and there

loosening and opening his coat of armor, "I am not," said he,

"troubled, Cleopatra, to be at present bereaved of you, for I

shall soon be with you; but it distresses me that so great a

general should be found of a tardier courage than a woman."  He

had a faithful servant, whose name was Eros; he had engaged him

formerly to kill him when he should think it necessary, and now

he put him to his promise.  Eros drew his sword, as designing to

kill him, but, suddenly turning round, he slew himself.  And as

he fell dead at his feet, "It is well done, Eros," said Antony;

"you show your master how to do what you had not the heart to do

yourself;" and so he ran himself into the belly, and laid

himself upon the couch.  The wound, however, was not immediately

mortal; and the flow of blood ceasing when he lay down,

presently he came to himself, and entreated those that were

about him to put him out of his pain; but they all fled out of

the chamber, and left him crying out and struggling, until

Diomede, Cleopatra's secretary, came to him, having orders from

her to bring him into the monument.

When he understood she was alive, he eagerly gave order to the

servants to take him up, and in their arms was carried to the

door of the building.  Cleopatra would not open the door, but,

looking from a sort of window, she let down ropes and cords, to

which Antony was fastened; and she and her two women, the only

persons she had allowed to enter the monument, drew him up.

Those that were present say that nothing was ever more sad than

this spectacle, to see Antony, covered all over with blood and

just expiring, thus drawn up, still holding up his hands to her,

and lifting up his body with the little force he had left.  As,

indeed, it was no easy task for the women; and Cleopatra, with

all her force, clinging to the rope, and straining with her head

to the ground, with difficulty pulled him up, while those below

encouraged her with their cries, and joined in all her effort

and anxiety.  When she had got him up, she laid him on the bed,

tearing all her clothes, which she spread upon him; and, beating

her breasts with her hands, lacerating herself, and disfiguring

her own face with the blood from his wounds, she called him her

lord, her husband, her emperor, and seemed to have pretty nearly

forgotten all her own evils, she was so intent upon his

misfortunes.  Antony, stopping her lamentations as well as he

could, called for wine to drink, either that he was thirsty; or

that he imagined that it might put him the sooner out of pain.

When he had drunk, he advised her to bring her own affairs, so

far as might be honorably done, to a safe conclusion, and that,

among all the friends of Caesar, she should rely on Proculeius;

that she should not pity him in this last turn of fate, but

rather rejoice for him in remembrance of his past happiness, who

had been of all men the most illustrious and powerful, and, in

the end, had fallen not ignobly, a Roman by a Roman overcome.

Just as he breathed his last, Proculeius arrived from Caesar;

for when Antony gave himself his wound, and was carried in to

Cleopatra, one of his guards, Dercetaeus, took up Antony's sword

and hid it; and, when he saw his opportunity, stole away to

Caesar, and brought him the first news of Antony's death, and

withal showed him the bloody sword.  Caesar, upon this, retired

into the inner part of his tent, and, giving some tears to the

death of one that had been nearly allied to him in marriage, his

colleague in empire, and companion in so many wars and dangers,

he came out to his friends, and, bringing with him many letters,

he read to them with how much reason and moderation he had

always addressed himself to Antony, and in return what

overbearing and arrogant answers he received.  Then he sent

Proculeius to use his utmost endeavors to get Cleopatra alive

into his power; for he was afraid of losing a great treasure,

and, besides, she would be no small addition to the glory of his

triumph.  She, however, was careful not to put herself in

Proculeius's power; but from within her monument, he standing on

the outside of a door, on the level of the ground, which was

strongly barred, but so that they might well enough hear one

another's voice, she held a conference with him; she demanding

that her kingdom might be given to her children, and he bidding

her be of good courage, and trust Caesar for everything.

Having taken particular notice of the place, he returned to

Caesar, and Gallus was sent to parley with her the second time;

who, being come to the door, on purpose prolonged the

conference, while Proculeius fixed his scaling-ladders in the

window through which the women had pulled up Antony.  And so

entering, with two men to follow him, he went straight down to

the door where Cleopatra was discoursing with Gallus.  One of

the two women who were shut up in the monument with her cried

out, "Miserable Cleopatra, you are taken prisoner!"  Upon which

she turned quick, and, looking at Proculeius, drew out her

dagger, which she had with her to stab herself.  But Proculeius

ran up quickly, and, seizing her with both his hands, "For

shame," said he, "Cleopatra; you wrong yourself and Caesar much,

who would rob him of so fair an occasion of showing his

clemency, and would make the world believe the most gentle of

commanders to be a faithless and implacable enemy."  And so,

taking the dagger out of her hand, he also shook her dress to

see if there were any poison hid in it.  After this, Caesar sent

Epaphroditus, one of his freedmen, with orders to treat her with

all the gentleness and civility possible, but to take the

strictest precautions to keep her alive.

In the meanwhile, Caesar made his entry into Alexandria, with

Areius the philosopher at his side, holding him by the hand and

talking with him; desiring that all his fellow-citizens should

see what honor was paid to him, and should look up to him

accordingly from the very first moment.  Then, entering the

exercise-ground, he mounted a platform erected for the purpose,

and from thence commanded the citizens (who, in great fear and

consternation, fell prostrate at his feet) to stand up, and told

them, that he freely acquitted the people of all blame, first,

for the sake of Alexander, who built their city; then, for the

city's sake itself, which was so large and beautiful; and,

thirdly, to gratify his friend Areius.

Such great honor did Areius receive from Caesar; and by his

intercession many lives were saved, amongst the rest that of

Philostratus, a man, of all the professors of logic that ever

were, the most ready in extempore speaking, but quite destitute

of any right to call himself one of the philosophers of the

Academy.  Caesar, out of disgust at his character, refused all

attention to his entreaties.  So, growing a long, white beard,

and dressing himself in black, he followed behind Areius,

shouting out the verse,

The wise, if they are wise, will save the wise.

Which Caesar hearing, gave him his pardon, to prevent rather any

odium that might attach to Areius, than any harm that

Philostratus might suffer.

Of Antony's children, Antyllus, his son by Fulvia, being

betrayed by his tutor, Theodorus, was put to death; and while

the soldiers were cutting off his head, his tutor contrived to

steal a precious jewel which he wore about his neck, and put it

into his pocket, and afterwards denied the fact, but was

convicted and crucified.  Cleopatra's children, with their

attendants, had a guard set on them, and were treated very

honorably.  Caesarion, who was reputed to be the son of Caesar

the Dictator, was sent by his mother, with a great sum of money,

through Ethiopia, to pass into India; but his tutor, a man named

Rhodon, about as honest as Theodorus, persuaded him to turn

back, for that Caesar designed to make him king.  Caesar

consulting what was best to be done with him, Areius, we are

told, said,

Too many Caesars are not well.

So, afterwards, when Cleopatra was dead, he was killed.

Many kings and great commanders made petition to Caesar for the

body of Antony, to give him his funeral rites; but he would not

take away his corpse from Cleopatra, by whose hands he was

buried with royal splendor and magnificence, it being granted to

her to employ what she pleased on his funeral.  In this

extremity of grief and sorrow, and having inflamed and ulcerated

her breasts with beating them, she fell into a high fever, and

was very glad of the occasion, hoping, under this pretext, to

abstain from food, and so to die in quiet without interference.

She had her own physician, Olympus, to whom she told the truth,

and asked his advice and help to put an end to herself, as

Olympus himself has told us, in a narrative which he wrote of

these events.  But Caesar, suspecting her purpose, took to

menacing language about her children, and excited her fears for

them, before which engines her purpose shook and gave way, so

that she suffered those about her to give her what meat or

medicine they pleased.

Some few days after, Caesar himself came to make her a visit and

comfort her.  She lay then upon her pallet-bed in undress,

and, on his entering in, sprang up from off her bed, having

nothing on but the one garment next her body, and flung herself

at his feet, her hair and face looking wild and disfigured, her

voice quivering, and her eyes sunk in her head.  The marks of

the blows she had given herself were visible about her bosom,

and altogether her whole person seemed no less afflicted than

her soul.  But, for all this, her old charm, and the boldness of

her youthful beauty had not wholly left her, and, in spite of

her present condition, still sparkled from within, and let

itself appear in all the movements of her countenance.  Caesar,

desiring her to repose herself, sat down by her; and, on this

opportunity, she said something to justify her actions,

attributing what she had done to the necessity she was under,

and to her fear of Antony; and when Caesar, on each point, made

his objections, and she found herself confuted, she broke off at

once into language of entreaty and deprecation, as if she

desired nothing more than to prolong her life.  And at last,

having by her a list of her treasure, she gave it into his

hands; and when Seleucus, one of her stewards, who was by,

pointed out that various articles were omitted, and charged her

with secreting them, she flew up and caught him by the hair, and

struck him several blows on the face.  Caesar smiling and

withholding her, "Is it not very hard, Caesar," said she, "when

you do me the honor to visit me in this condition I am in, that

I should be accused by one of my own servants of laying by some

women's toys, not meant to adorn, be sure, my unhappy self, but

that I might have some little present by me to make your Octavia

and your Livia, that by their intercession I might hope to find

you in some measure disposed to mercy?"  Caesar was pleased to

hear her talk thus, being now assured that she was desirous to

live.  And, therefore, letting her know that the things she had

laid by she might dispose of as she pleased, and his usage of

her should be honorable above her expectation, he went away,

well satisfied that he had overreached her, but, in fact, was

himself deceived.

There was a young man of distinction among Caesar's companions,

named Cornelius Dolabella.  He was not without a certain

tenderness for Cleopatra, and sent her word privately, as she

had besought him to do, that Caesar was about to return through

Syria, and that she and her children were to be sent on within

three days.  When she understood this, she made her request to

Caesar that he would be pleased to permit her to make oblations

to the departed Antony; which being granted, she ordered herself

to be carried to the place where he was buried, and there,

accompanied by her women, she embraced his tomb with tears in

her eyes, and spoke in this manner: "O, dearest Antony," said

she, "it is not long since that with these hands I buried you;

then they were free, now I am a captive, and pay these last

duties to you with a guard upon me, for fear that my just griefs

and sorrows should impair my servile body, and make it less fit

to appear in their triumph over you.  No further offerings or

libations expect from me; these are the last honors that

Cleopatra can pay your memory, for she is to be hurried away far

from you.  Nothing could part us whilst we lived, but death

seems to threaten to divide us.  You, a Roman born, have found a

grave in Egypt; I, an Egyptian, am to seek that favor, and none

but that, in your country.  But if the gods below, with whom

you now are, either can or will do anything (since those above

have betrayed us), suffer not your living wife to be abandoned;

let me not be led in triumph to your shame, but hide me and bury

me here with you, since, amongst all my bitter misfortunes,

nothing has afflicted me like this brief time that I have lived

away from you."

Having made these lamentations, crowning the tomb with garlands

and kissing it, she gave orders to prepare her a bath, and,

coming out of the bath, she lay down and made a sumptuous meal.

And a country fellow brought her a little basket, which the

guards intercepting and asking what it was, the fellow put the

leaves which lay uppermost aside, and showed them it was full of

figs; and on their admiring the largeness and beauty of the

figs, he laughed, and invited them to take some, which they

refused, and, suspecting nothing, bade him carry them in.  After

her repast, Cleopatra sent to Caesar a letter which she had

written and sealed; and, putting everybody out of the monument

but her two women, she shut the doors.  Caesar, opening her

letter, and finding pathetic prayers and entreaties that she

might be buried in the same tomb with Antony, soon guessed what

was doing.  At first he was going himself in all haste, but,

changing his mind, he sent others to see.  The thing had been

quickly done.  The messengers came at full speed, and found the

guards apprehensive of nothing; but on opening the doors, they

saw her stone-dead, lying upon a bed of gold, set out in all her

royal ornaments.  Iras, one of her women, lay dying at her feet,

and Charmion, just ready to fall, scarce able to hold up her

head, was adjusting her mistress's diadem.  And when one that

came in said angrily, "Was this well done of your lady,

Charmion?"  "Extremely well," she answered, "and as became the

descendant of so many kings"; and as she said this, she fell

down dead by the bedside.

Some relate that an asp was brought in amongst those figs and

covered with the leaves, and that Cleopatra had arranged that it

might settle on her before she knew, but, when she took away

some of the figs and saw it, she said, "So here it is," and held

out her bare arm to be bitten.  Others say that it was kept in a

vase, and that she vexed and pricked it with a golden spindle

till it seized her arm.  But what really took place is known to

no one.  Since it was also said that she carried poison in a

hollow bodkin, about which she wound her hair; yet there was not

so much as a spot found, or any symptom of poison upon her body,

nor was the asp seen within the monument; only something like

the trail of it was said to have been noticed on the sand by the

sea, on the part towards which the building faced and where the

windows were.  Some relate that two faint puncture-marks were

found on Cleopatra's arm, and to this account Caesar seems to

have given credit; for in his triumph there was carried a figure

of Cleopatra, with an asp clinging to her.  Such are the various

accounts.  But Caesar, though much disappointed by her death,

yet could not but admire the greatness of her spirit, and gave

order that her body should he buried by Antony with royal

splendor and magnificence.  Her women, also, received honorable

burial by his directions.  Cleopatra had lived nine and thirty

years, during twenty-two of which she had reigned as queen, and

for fourteen had been Antony's partner in his empire.  Antony,

according to some authorities, was fifty-three, according to

others, fifty-six years old.  His statues were all thrown down,

but those of Cleopatra were left untouched; for Archibius, one

of her friends, gave Caesar two thousand talents to save them

from the fate of Antony's.

Antony left by his three wives seven children, of whom only

Antyllus, the eldest, was put to death by Caesar; Octavia took

the rest, and brought them up with her own.  Cleopatra, his

daughter by Cleopatra, was given in marriage to Juba, the most

accomplished of kings; and Antony, his son by Fulvia, attained

such high favor, that whereas Agrippa was considered to hold the

first place with Caesar, and the sons of Livia the second, the

third, without dispute, was possessed by Antony.  Octavia, also,

having had by her first husband, Marcellus, two daughters, and

one son named Marcellus, this son Caesar adopted, and gave him

his daughter in marriage; as did Octavia one of the daughters to

Agrippa.  But Marcellus dying almost immediately after his

marriage, she, perceiving that her brother was at a loss to find

elsewhere any sure friend to be his son-in-law, was the first to

recommend that Agrippa should put away her daughter and marry

Julia.  To this Caesar first, and then Agrippa himself, gave

assent; so Agrippa married Julia, and Octavia, receiving her

daughter, married her to the young Antony.  Of the two daughters

whom Octavia had borne to Antony, the one was married to

Domitius Ahenobarbus; and the other, Antonia, famous for her

beauty and discretion, was married to Drusus, the son of Livia,

and step-son to Caesar.  Of these parents were born Germanicus

and Claudius.  Claudius reigned later; and of the children of

Germanicus, Caius, after a reign of distinction, was killed with

his wife and child; Agrippina, after bearing a son, Lucius

Domitius, to Ahenobarbus, was married to Claudius Caesar, who

adopted Domitius, giving him the name of Nero Germanicus.  He

was emperor in our time, and put his mother to death, and with

his madness and folly came not far from ruining the Roman

empire, being Antony's descendant in the fifth generation.

COMPARISON OF DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY

As both are great examples of the vicissitudes of fortune, let

us first consider in what way they attained their power and

glory.  Demetrius heired a kingdom already won for him by

Antigonus, the most powerful of the Successors, who, before

Demetrius grew to be a man, traversed with his armies and

subdued the greater part of Asia.  Antony's father was well

enough in other respects, but was no warrior, and could bequeath

no great legacy of reputation to his son, who had the boldness,

nevertheless, to take upon him the government, to which birth

gave him no claim, which had been held by Caesar, and became the

inheritor of his great labors.  And such power did he attain,

with only himself to thank for it, that, in a division of the

whole empire into two portions, he took and received the nobler

one; and, absent himself, by his mere subalterns and lieutenants

often defeated the Parthians, and drove the barbarous nations of

the Caucasus back to the Caspian Sea.  Those very things that

procured him ill-repute bear witness to his greatness.

Antigonus considered Antipater's daughter Phila, in spite of the

disparity of her years, an advantageous match for Demetrius.

Antony was thought disgraced by his marriage with Cleopatra, a

queen superior in power and glory to all, except Arsaces, who

were kings in her time.  Antony was so great as to be thought by

others worthy of higher things than his own desires.

As regards the right and justice of their aims at empire,

Demetrius need not be blamed for seeking to rule a people that

had always had a king to rule them.  Antony, who enslaved the

Roman people, just liberated from the rule of Caesar, followed a

cruel and tyrannical object.  His greatest and most illustrious

work, his successful war with Brutus and Cassius, was done to

crush the liberties of his country and of his fellow-citizens.

Demetrius, till he was driven to extremity, went on, without

intermission, maintaining liberty in Greece, and expelling the

foreign garrisons from the cities; not like Antony, whose boast

was to have slain in Macedonia those who had set up liberty in

Rome.  As for the profusion and magnificence of his gifts,

one point for which Antony is lauded, Demetrius so far outdid

them, that what he gave to his enemies was far more than Antony

ever gave to his friends.  Antony was renowned for giving Brutus

honorable burial; Demetrius did so to all the enemy's dead, and

sent the prisoners back to Ptolemy with money and presents.

Both were insolent in prosperity, and abandoned themselves to

luxuries and enjoyments.  Yet it cannot be said that Demetrius,

in his revelings and dissipations, ever let slip the time for

action; pleasures with him attended only the superabundance of

his ease, and his Lamia, like that of the fable, belonged only

to his playful, half-waking, half-sleeping hours.  When war

demanded his attention, his spear was not wreathed with ivy, nor

his helmet redolent of unguents; he did not come out to battle

from the women's chamber, but, hushing the bacchanal shouts and

putting an end to the orgies, he became at once, as Euripides

calls it, "the minister of the unpriestly Mars;" and, in short,

he never once incurred disaster through indolence or

self-indulgence.  Whereas Antony, like Hercules in the picture

where Omphale is seen removing his club and stripping him of his

lion's skin, was over and over again disarmed by Cleopatra, and

beguiled away, while great actions and enterprises of the first

necessity fell, as it were, from his hands, to go with her to

the seashore of Canopus and Taphosiris, and play about.  And in

the end, like another Paris, he left the battle to fly to her

arms; or rather, to say the truth, Paris fled when he was

already beaten; Antony fled first, and, to follow Cleopatra,

abandoned his victory.

There was no law to prevent Demetrius from marrying several

wives; from the time of Philip and Alexander, it had become

usual with Macedonian kings, and he did no more than was done by

Lysimachus and Ptolemy.  And those he married he treated

honorably.  But Antony, first of all, in marrying two wives at

once, did a thing which no Roman had ever allowed himself; and

then he drove away his lawful Roman wife to please the foreign

and unlawful woman.  And so Demetrius incurred no harm at all;

Antony procured his ruin by his marriage.  On the other hand, no

licentious act of Antony's can be charged with that impiety

which marks those of Demetrius.  Historical writers tell us that

the very dogs are excluded from the whole Acropolis, because of

their gross, uncleanly habits.  The very Parthenon itself saw

Demetrius consorting with harlots and debauching free women of

Athens.  The vice of cruelty, also, remote as it seems from the

indulgence of voluptuous desires, must be attributed to him,

who, in the pursuit of his pleasures, allowed, or to say more

truly, compelled the death of the most beautiful and most chaste

of the Athenians, who found no way but this to escape his

violence.  In one word, Antony himself suffered by his excesses,

and other people by those of Demetrius.

In his conduct to his parents, Demetrius was irreproachable.

Antony gave up his mother's brother, in order that he might have

leave to kill Cicero, this itself being so cruel and shocking an

act, that Antony would hardly be forgiven if Cicero's death had

been the price of this uncle's safety.  In respect of breaches

of oaths and treaties, the seizure of Artabazes, and the

assassination of Alexander, Antony may urge the plea which no

one denies to be true, that Artabazes first abandoned and

betrayed him in Media; Demetrius is alleged by many to have

invented false pretexts for his act, and not to have retaliated

for injuries, but to have accused one whom he injured himself.

The achievements of Demetrius are all his own work.  Antony's

noblest and greatest victories were won in his absence by his

lieutenants.  For their final disasters they have both only to

thank themselves; not, however, in an equal degree.  Demetrius

was deserted, the Macedonians revolted from him: Antony deserted

others, and ran away while men were fighting for him at the risk

of their lives.  The fault to be found with the one is that he

had thus entirely alienated the affections of his soldiers; the

other's condemnation is that he abandoned so much love and faith

as he still possessed.  We cannot admire the death of either,

but that of Demetrius excites our greater contempt.  He let

himself become a prisoner, and was thankful to gain a three

years' accession of life in captivity.  He was tamed like a wild

beast by his belly, and by wine; Antony took himself out of the

world in a cowardly, pitiful, and ignoble manner, but, still in

time to prevent the enemy having his person in their power.

DION

If it be true, Sosius Senecio, that, as Simonides tells us,

"Of the Corinthians Troy does not complain"

for having taken part with the Achaeans in the siege, because

the Trojans also had Corinthians (Glaucus, who sprang from

Corinth,) fighting bravely on their side, so also it may be

fairly said that neither Romans nor Greeks can quarrel with the

Academy, each nation being equally represented in the following

pair of lives, which will give an account of Brutus and of Dion,

— Dion, who was Plato's own hearer, and Brutus, who was brought

up in his philosophy.  They came from one and the selfsame

school, where they had been trained alike, to run the race of

honor; nor need we wonder that in the performance of actions

often most nearly allied and akin, they both bore evidence to

the truth of what their guide and teacher had said, that,

without the concurrence of power and success with justice and

prudence, public actions do not attain their proper, great, and

noble character.  For as Hippomachus the wrestling-master

affirmed, he could distinguish his scholars at a distance.

though they were but carrying meat from the shambles, so it is

very probable that the principles of those who have had the same

good education should appear with a resemblance in all their

actions, creating in them a certain harmony and proportion, at

once agreeable and becoming.

We may also draw a close parallel of the lives of the two men

from their fortunes, wherein chance, even more than their own

designs, made them nearly alike.  For they were both cut off by

an untimely death, not being able to accomplish those ends which

through many risks and difficulties they aimed at.  But, above

all, this is most wonderful; that by preternatural interposition

both of them had notice given of their approaching death by an

unpropitious form, which visibly appeared to them.  Although

there are people who utterly deny any such thing, and say that

no man in his right senses ever yet saw any supernatural phantom

or apparition, but that children only, and silly women, or men

disordered by sickness, in some aberration of the mind or

distemperature of the body, have had empty and extravagant

imaginations, whilst the real evil genius, superstition, was in

themselves.  Yet if Dion and Brutus, men of solid understanding,

and philosophers, not to be easily deluded by fancy or

discomposed by any sudden apprehension, were thus affected by

visions, that they forthwith declared to their friends what they

had seen, I know not how we can avoid admitting again the

utterly exploded opinion of the oldest times, that evil and

beguiling spirits, out of an envy to good men, and a desire of

impeding their good deeds, make efforts to excite in them

feelings of terror and distraction, to make them shake and

totter in their virtue, lest by a steady and unbiased

perseverance they should obtain a happier condition than these

beings after death.  But I shall leave these things for another

opportunity, and, in this twelfth book of the lives of great men

compared one with another, begin with his who was the elder.

Dionysius the First, having possessed himself of the government,

at once took to wife the daughter of Hermocrates, the Syracusan.

She, in an outbreak which the citizens made before the new power

was well settled, was abused in such a barbarous and outrageous

manner, that for shame she put an end to her own life.  But

Dionysius, when he was reestablished and confirmed in his

supremacy, married two wives together, one named Doris, of

Locri, the other, Aristomache, a native of Sicily, and daughter

of Hipparinus, a man of the first quality in Syracuse, and

colleague with Dionysius when he was first chosen general with

unlimited powers for the war.  It is said he married them both

in one day, and no one ever knew which of the two he first made

his wife; and ever after he divided his kindness equally between

them, both accompanying him together at his table, and in his

bed by turns.  Indeed, the Syracusans were urgent that their own

countrywoman might be preferred before the stranger; but Doris,

to compensate for her foreign extraction; had the good fortune

to be the mother of the son and heir of the family, whilst

Aristomache continued a long time without issue, though

Dionysius was very desirous to have children by her, and,

indeed, caused Doris's mother to be put to death, laying to her

charge that she had given drugs to Aristomache, to prevent her

being with child.

Dion, Aristomache's brother, at first found an honorable

reception for his sister's sake; but his own worth and parts

soon procured him a nearer place in his brother-in-law's

affection, who, among other favors, gave special command to his

treasurers to furnish Dion with whatever money he demanded, only

telling him on the same day what they had delivered out.  Now,

though Dion was before reputed a person of lofty character; of a

noble mind, and daring courage, yet these excellent

qualifications all received a great development from the happy

chance which conducted Plato into Sicily; not assuredly by any

human device or calculation, but some supernatural power,

designing that this remote cause should hereafter occasion the

recovery of the Sicilians' lost liberty and the subversion of

the tyrannical government, brought the philosopher out of Italy

to Syracuse, and made acquaintance between him and Dion.  Dion

was, indeed, at this time extremely young in years, but of all

the scholars that attended Plato he was the quickest and aptest

to learn, and the most prompt and eager to practice, the lessons

of virtue, as Plato himself reports of him, and his own actions

sufficiently testify.  For though he had been bred up under a

tyrant in habits of submission, accustomed to a life, on the one

hand of servility and intimidation, and yet on the other of

vulgar display and luxury, the mistaken happiness of people that

knew no better thing than pleasure and self-indulgence, yet, at

the first taste of reason and a philosophy that demands

obedience to virtue, his soul was set in a flame, and in the

simple innocence of youth, concluding, from his own disposition,

that the same reasons would work the same effects upon

Dionysius, he made it his business, and at length obtained the

favor of him, at a leisure hour, to hear Plato.

At this their meeting, the subject-matter of their discourse in

general was human virtue, but, more particularly, they disputed

concerning fortitude, which Plato proved tyrants, of all men,

had the least pretense to; and thence proceeding to treat of

justice, asserted the happy estate of the just, and the

miserable condition of the unjust; arguments which Dionysius

would not hear out, but, feeling himself, as it were, convicted

by his words, and much displeased to see the rest of the

auditors full of admiration for the speaker and captivated with

his doctrine, at last, exceedingly exasperated, he asked the

philosopher in a rage, what business he had in Sicily.  To which

Plato answered, "I came to seek a virtuous man."  "It seems

then," replied Dionysius, "you have lost your labor."  Dion,

supposing, that this was all, and that nothing further could

come of his anger, at Plato's request, conveyed him aboard a

galley, which was conveying Pollis, the Spartan, into Greece.

But Dionysius privately dealt with Pollis, by all means to kill

Plato in the voyage; if not, to be sure to sell him for a slave:

he would, of course, take no harm of it, being the same just man

as before; he would enjoy that happiness, though he lost his

liberty.  Pollis, therefore, it is stated, carried Plato to

Aegina, and there sold him; the Aeginetans, then at war with

Athens, having made a decree that whatever Athenian was taken on

their coasts should forthwith be exposed to sale.

Notwithstanding, Dion was not in less favor and credit with

Dionysius than formerly, but was entrusted with the most

considerable employments, and sent on important embassies to

Carthage, in the management of which he gained very great

reputation.  Besides, the usurper bore with the liberty he took

to speak his mind freely, he being the only man who upon any

occasion durst boldly say what he thought, as, for example, in

the rebuke he gave him about Gelon.  Dionysius was ridiculing

Gelon's government, and, alluding to his name, said, he had been

the laughing-stock of Sicily.  While others seemed to admire

and applaud the quibble, Dion very warmly replied,

"Nevertheless, it is certain that you are sole governor here,

because you were trusted for Gelon's sake; but for your sake no

man will ever hereafter be trusted again."  For, indeed, Gelon

had made a monarchy appear the best, whereas Dionysius had

convinced men that it was the worst, of governments.

Dionysius had three children by Doris, and by Aristomache four,

two of which were daughters, Sophrosyne and Arete.  Sophrosyne

was married to his son Dionysius; Arete, to his brother

Thearides, after whose death, Dion received his niece Arete to

wife.  Now when Dionysius was sick and like to die, Dion

endeavored to speak with him in behalf of the children he had by

Aristomache, but was still prevented by the physicians, who

wanted to ingratiate themselves with the next successor, who

also, as Timaeus reports, gave him a sleeping potion which he

asked for, which produced an insensibility only followed by his

death.

Nevertheless, at the first council which the young Dionysius

held with his friends, Dion discoursed so well of the present

state of affairs, that he made all the rest appear in their

politics but children, and in their votes rather slaves than

counselors, who timorously and disingenuously advised what would

please the young man, rather than what would advance his

interest.  But that which startled them most was the proposal he

made to avert the imminent danger they feared of a war with the

Carthaginians, undertaking, if Dionysius wanted peace, to sail

immediately over into Africa, and conclude it there upon

honorable terms; but, if he rather preferred war, then he would

fit out and maintain at his own cost and charges fifty galleys

ready for the service.

Dionysius wondered much at his greatness of mind, and received

his offer with satisfaction.  But the other courtiers, thinking

his generosity reflected upon them, and jealous of being

lessened by his greatness, from hence took all occasions by

private slanders to render him obnoxious to the young man's

displeasure; as if he designed by his power at sea to surprise

the government, and by the help of those naval forces confer the

supreme authority upon his sister Aristomache's children.  But,

indeed, the most apparent and the strongest grounds for dislike

and hostility existed already in the difference of his habits,

and his reserved and separate way of living.  For they, who,

from the beginning, by flatteries and all unworthy artifices,

courted the favor and familiarity of the prince, youthful and

voluptuously bred, ministered to his pleasures, and sought how

to find him daily some new amours and occupy him in vain

amusements, with wine or with women, and in other dissipations;

by which means, the tyranny, like iron softened in the fire,

seemed, indeed, to the subject to be more moderate and gentle,

and to abate somewhat of its extreme severity; the edge of it

being blunted, not by the clemency, but rather the sloth and

degeneracy of the sovereign, whose dissoluteness, gaining ground

daily, and growing upon him, soon weakened and broke those

"adamantine chains," with which his father, Dionysius, said he

had left the monarchy fastened and secured.  It is reported of

him, that, having begun a drunken debauch, he continued it

ninety days without intermission; in all which time no person

on business was allowed to appear, nor was any serious

conversation heard at court, but drinking, singing, dancing.

and buffoonery reigned there without control.

It is likely then they had little kindness for Dion, who never

indulged himself in any youthful pleasure or diversion.  And so

his very virtues were the matter of their calumnies, and were

represented under one or other plausible name as vices; they

called his gravity pride, his plain-dealing self-will, the good

advice he gave was all construed into reprimand, and he was

censured for neglecting and scorning those in whose misdemeanors

he declined to participate.  And to say the truth, there was in

his natural character something stately, austere, reserved, and

unsociable in conversation, which made his company unpleasant

and disagreeable not only to the young tyrant, whose ears had

been corrupted by flatteries; many also of Dion's own intimate

friends, though they loved the integrity and generosity of his

temper, yet blamed his manner, and thought he treated those with

whom he had to do, less courteously and affably than became a

man engaged in civil business.  Of which Plato also afterwards

wrote to him; and, as it were, prophetically advised him

carefully to avoid an arbitrary temper, whose proper helpmate

was a solitary life.  And, indeed, at this very time, though

circumstances made him so important, and, in the danger of the

tottering government, he was recognized as the only or the

ablest support of it, yet he well understood that he owed not

his high position to any good-will or kindness, but to the mere

necessities of the usurper.

And, supposing the cause of this to be ignorance and want of

education, he endeavored to induce the young man into a course

of liberal studies, and to give him some knowledge of moral

truths and reasonings, hoping he might thus lose his fear of

virtuous living, and learn to take pleasure in laudable actions.

Dionysius, in his own nature, was not one of the worst kind of

tyrants, but his father, fearing that if he should come to

understand himself better, and converse with wise and reasonable

men, he might enter into some design against him, and dispossess

him of his power, kept him closely shut up at home; where, for

want of other company, and ignorant how to spend his time

better, he busied himself in making little chariots,

candlesticks, stools, tables, and other things of wood.  For the

elder Dionysius was so diffident and suspicious, and so

continually on his guard against all men, that he would not so

much as let his hair be trimmed with any barber's or

hair-cutter's instruments, but made one of his artificers singe

him with a live coal.  Neither were his brother or his son

allowed to come into his apartment in the dress they wore, but

they, as all others, were stripped to their skins by some of the

guard, and, after being seen naked, put on other clothes before

they were admitted into the presence.  When his brother Leptines

was once describing the situation of a place, and took a javelin

from one of the guard to draw the plan of it, he was extremely

angry with him, and had the soldier who gave him the weapon put

to death.  He declared, the more judicious his friends were, the

more he suspected them; because he knew, that were it in their

choice, they would rather be tyrants themselves than the

subjects of a tyrant.  He slew Marsyas, one of his captains whom

he had preferred to a considerable command, for dreaming that he

killed him: without some previous waking thought and purpose of

the kind, he could not, he supposed, have had that fancy in

his sleep.  So timorous was he, and so miserable a slave to his

fears, yet very angry with Plato, because he would not allow him

to be the valiantest man alive.

Dion, as we said before, seeing the son thus deformed and spoilt

in character for want of teaching, exhorted him to study, and to

use all his entreaties to persuade Plato, the first of

philosophers, to visit him in Sicily, and; when he came, to

submit himself to his direction and advice: by whose

instructions he might conform his nature to the truths of

virtue, and, living after the likeness of the Divine and

glorious Model of Being, out of obedience to whose control the

general confusion is changed into the beautiful order of the

universe, so he in like manner might be the cause of great

happiness to himself and to all his subjects, who, obliged by

his justice and moderation, would then willingly pay him

obedience as their father, which now grudgingly, and upon

necessity, they are forced to yield him as their master.  Their

usurping tyrant he would then no longer be, but their lawful

king.  For fear and force, a great navy and standing army of ten

thousand hired barbarians are not, as his father had said, the

adamantine chains which secure the regal power, but the love,

zeal, and affection inspired by clemency and justice; which,

though they seem more pliant than the stiff and hard bonds of

severity, are nevertheless the strongest and most durable ties

to sustain a lasting government.  Moreover, it is mean and

dishonorable that a ruler, while careful to be splendid in his

dress, and luxurious and magnificent in his habitation, should,

in reason and power of speech, make no better show than the

commonest of his subjects, nor have the princely palace of his

mind adorned according to his royal dignity.

Dion frequently entertaining the king upon this subject, and, as

occasion offered, repeating some of the philosopher's sayings,

Dionysius grew impatiently desirous to have Plato's company, and

to hear him discourse.  Forthwith, therefore, he sent letter

upon letter to him to Athens, to which Dion added his

entreaties; also several philosophers of the Pythagorean sect

from Italy sent their recommendations, urging him to come and

obtain a hold upon this pliant, youthful soul, which his solid

and weighty reasonings might steady, as it were, upon the seas

of absolute power and authority.  Plato, as he tells us himself,

out of shame more than any other feeling, lest it should seem

that he was all mere theory, and that of his own good-will he

would never venture into action, hoping withal, that if he could

work a cure upon one man, the head and guide of the rest, he

might remedy the distempers of the whole island of Sicily,

yielded to their requests.

But Dion's enemies, fearing an alteration in Dionysius,

persuaded him to recall from banishment Philistus, a man of

learned education, and at the same time of great experience in

the ways of tyrants, and who might serve as a counterpoise to

Plato and his philosophy.  For Philistus from the beginning had

been a great instrument in establishing the tyranny, and for a

long time had held the office of captain of the citadel.  There

was a report, that he had been intimate with the mother of

Dionysius the first, and not without his privity.  And when

Leptines, having two daughters by a married woman whom he had

debauched, gave one of them in marriage to Philistus, without

acquainting Dionysius, he, in great anger, put Leptines's

mistress in prison, and banished Philistus from Sicily.

Whereupon, he fled to some of his friends on the Adriatic coast,

in which retirement and leisure it is probable he wrote the

greatest part of his history; for he returned not into his

country during the reign of that Dionysius.

But after his death, as is just related, Dion's enemies

occasioned him to be recalled home, as fitter for their purpose,

and a firm friend to the arbitrary government.  And this,

indeed, immediately upon his return he set himself to maintain;

and at the same time various calumnies and accusations against

Dion were by others brought to the king: as that he held

correspondence with Theodotes and Heraclides, to subvert the

government; as, doubtless, it is likely enough, that Dion had

entertained hopes, by the coming of Plato, to mitigate the rigid

and despotic severity of the tyranny, and to give Dionysius the

character of a fair and lawful governor; and had determined, if

he should continue averse to that, and were not to be reclaimed,

to depose him, and restore the commonwealth to the Syracusans;

not that he approved a democratic government, but thought it

altogether preferable to a tyranny, when a sound and good

aristocracy could not be procured.

This was the state of affairs when Plato came into Sicily, who,

at his first arrival, was received with wonderful demonstration

of kindness and respect.  For one of the royal chariots, richly

ornamented, was in attendance to receive him when he came on

shore; Dionysius himself sacrificed to the gods in thankful

acknowledgment for the great happiness which had befallen his

government.  The citizens, also, began to entertain marvelous

hopes of a speedy reformation, when they observed the modesty

which now ruled in the banquets, and the general decorum which

prevailed in all the court, their tyrant himself also behaving

with gentleness and humanity in all their matters of business

that came before him.  There was a general passion for

reasoning: and philosophy, insomuch that the very palace, it is

reported, was filled with dust by the concourse of the students

in mathematics who were working their problems there. Some few

days after, it was the time of one of the Syracusan sacrifices,

and when the priest, as he was wont, prayed for the long and

safe continuance of the tyranny, Dionysius, it is said, as he

stood by, cried out, "Leave off praying for evil upon us."  This

sensibly vexed Philistus and his party, who conjectured, that if

Plato, upon such brief acquaintance, had so far transformed and

altered the young man's mind, longer converse and greater

intimacy would give him such influence and authority, that it

would he impossible to withstand him.

Therefore, no longer privately and apart, but jointly and in

public, all of them, they began to slander Dion, noising it

about that he had charmed and bewitched Dionysius by Plato's

sophistry, to the end that when he was persuaded voluntarily to

part with his power, and lay down his authority, Dion might take

it up, and settle it upon his sister Aristomache's children.

Others professed to be indignant that the Athenians, who

formerly had come to Sicily with a great fleet and a numerous

land-army, and perished miserably without being able to take the

city of Syracuse, should now, by means of one sophister,

overturn the sovereignty of Dionysius; inveigling him to

cashier his guard of ten thousand lances, dismiss a navy of four

hundred galleys, disband an army of ten thousand horse and many

times over that number of foot, and go seek in the schools an

unknown and imaginary bliss, and learn by the mathematics how to

be happy; while, in the meantime, the substantial enjoyments of

absolute power, riches, and pleasure would be handed over to

Dion and his sister's children.

By these means, Dion began to incur at first suspicion, and by

degrees more apparent displeasure and hostility.  A letter,

also, was intercepted and brought to the young prince, which

Dion had written to the Carthaginian agents, advising them,

that, when they treated with Dionysius concerning the peace,

they should not come to their audience without communicating

with him: they would not fail to obtain by this means all that

they wanted.  When Dionysius had shown this to Philistus, and

consulted with him, as Timaeus relates, about it, he overreached

Dion by a feigned reconciliation, professing, after some fair

and reasonable expression of his feelings, that he was at

friends with him, and thus, leading him alone to the sea-side,

under the castle wall, he showed him the letter, and taxed him

with conspiring with the Carthaginians against him.  And when

Dion essayed to speak in his own defense, Dionysius suffered him

not; but immediately forced him aboard a boat, which lay there

for that purpose, and commanded the sailors to set him ashore on

the coast of Italy.

When this was publicly known, and was thought very hard usage,

there was much lamentation in the tyrant's own household on

account of the women, but the citizens of Syracuse encouraged

themselves, expecting that for his sake some disturbance would

ensue; which, together with the mistrust others would now feel,

might occasion a general change and revolution in the state.

Dionysius, seeing this, took alarm, and endeavored to pacify the

women and others of Dion's kindred and friends; assuring them

that he had not banished, but only sent him out of the way for a

time, for fear of his own passion, which might be provoked some

day by Dion's self-will into some act which he should be sorry

for.  He gave also two ships to his relations, with liberty to

send into Peloponnesus for him whatever of his property or

servants they thought fit.

Dion was very rich, and had his house furnished with little less

than royal splendor and magnificence.  These valuables his

friends packed up and conveyed to him, besides many rich

presents which were sent him by the women and his adherents.  So

that, so far as wealth and riches went, he made a noble

appearance among the Greeks, and they might judge, by the

affluence of the exile, what was the power of the tyrant.

Dionysius immediately removed Plato into the castle, designing,

under color of an honorable and kind reception, to set a guard

upon him, lest he should follow Dion, and declare to the world

in his behalf, how injuriously he had been dealt with.  And,

moreover, time and conversation (as wild beasts by use grow tame

and tractable) had brought Dionysius to endure Plato's company

and discourse, so that he began to love the philosopher, but

with such an affection as had something of the tyrant in it,

requiring of Plato that he should, in return of his kindness,

love him only, and attend to him above all other men; being

ready to permit to his care the chief management of affairs, and

even the government, too, upon condition that he would not

prefer Dion's friendship before his.  This extravagant

affection was a great trouble to Plato, for it was accompanied

with petulant and jealous humors, like the fond passions of

those that are desperately in love; frequently he was angry and

fell out with him, and presently begged and entreated to be

friends again.  He was beyond measure desirous to be Plato's

scholar, and to proceed in the study of philosophy, and yet he

was ashamed of it with those who spoke against it and professed

to think it would ruin him.

But a war about this time breaking out, he sent Plato away,

promising him in the summer to recall Dion, though in this he

broke his word at once; nevertheless, he remitted to him his

revenues, desiring Plato to excuse him as to the time appointed,

because of the war, but, as soon as he had settled a peace, he

would immediately send for Dion, requiring him in the interim to

be quiet, and not raise any disturbance, nor speak ill of him

among the Grecians.  This Plato endeavored to effect, by keeping

Dion with him in the Academy, and busying him in philosophical

studies.

Dion sojourned in the Upper Town of Athens, with Callippus, one

of his acquaintance; but for his pleasure he bought a seat in

the country, which afterwards, when he went into Sicily, he gave

to Speusippus, who had been his most frequent companion while

he was at Athens, Plato so arranging it, with the hope that

Dion's austere temper might be softened by agreeable company,

with an occasional mixture of seasonable mirth.  For Speusippus

was of the character to afford him this; we find him spoken of

in Timon's Silli, as "good at a jest."  And Plato himself, as

it happened, being called upon to furnish a chorus of boys, Dion

took upon him the ordering and management of it, and defrayed

the whole expense, Plato giving him this opportunity to oblige

the Athenians, which was likely to procure his friend more

kindness than himself credit.  Dion went also to see several

other cities, visiting the noblest and most statemanlike persons

in Greece, and joining in their recreations and entertainments

in their times of festival.  In all which, no sort of vulgar

ignorance, or tyrannic assumption, or luxuriousness was remarked

in him; but, on the contrary, a great deal of temperance,

generosity, and courage, and a well-becoming taste for reasoning

and philosophic discourses.  By which means he gained the love

and admiration of all men, and in many cities had public honors

decreed him; the Lacedaemonians making him a citizen of Sparta,

without regard to the displeasure of Dionysius, though at that

time he was aiding them in their wars against the Thebans.

It is related that once, upon invitation, he went to pay a visit

to Ptoeodorus the Megarian, a man, it would seem, of wealth and

importance; and when, on account of the concourse of people

about his doors, and the press of business, it was very

troublesome and difficult to get access to him, turning about to

his friends who seemed concerned and angry at it, "What reason,"

said he, "have we to blame Ptoeodorus, when we ourselves used to

do no better when we were at Syracuse?"

After some little time, Dionysius, envying Dion, and jealous of

the favor and interest he had among the Grecians, put a stop

upon his incomes, and no longer sent him his revenues, making

his own commissioners trustees of the estate.  But, endeavoring

to obviate the ill-will and discredit which, upon Plato's

account, might accrue to him among the philosophers, he

collected in his court many reputed learned men; and,

ambitiously desiring to surpass them in their debates he was

forced to make use, often incorrectly, of arguments he had

picked up from Plato.  And now he wished for his company again,

repenting he had not made better use of it when he had it, and

had given no greater heed to his admirable lessons.  Like a

tyrant, therefore, inconsiderate in his desires, headstrong and

violent in whatever he took a will to, on a sudden he was

eagerly set on the design of recalling him, and left no stone

unturned, but addressed himself to Archytas the Pythagorean (his

acquaintance and friendly relations with whom owed their origin

to Plato), and persuaded him to stand as surety for his

engagements, and to request Plato to revisit Sicily.

Archytas therefore sent Archedemus, and Dionysius some galleys,

with divers friends, to entreat his return; moreover, he wrote

to him himself expressly and in plain terms, that Dion must

never look for any favor or kindness, if Plato would not be

prevailed with to come into Sicily; but if Plato did come, Dion

should be assured of whatever he desired.  Dion also received

letters full of solicitations from his sister and his wife,

urging him to beg Plato to gratify Dionysius in this request,

and not give him an excuse for further ill-doing.  So that, as

Plato says of himself, the third time he set sail for the Strait

of Scylla,

"Venturing again Charybdis's dangerous gulf."

This arrival brought great joy to Dionysius, and no less hopes

to the Sicilians, who were earnest in their prayers and good

wishes that Plato might get the better of Philistus, and

philosophy triumph over tyranny.  Neither was he unbefriended by

the women, who studied to oblige him; and he had with Dionysius

that peculiar credit which no man else ever obtained, namely,

liberty to come into his presence without being examined or

searched.  When he would have given him a considerable sum of

money, and, on several repeated occasions, made fresh offers,

which Plato as often declined, Aristippus the Cyrenaean, then

present, said that Dionysius was very safe in his munificence,

he gave little to those who were ready to take all they could

get, and a great deal to Plato, who would accept of nothing.

After the first compliments of kindness were over, when Plato

began to discourse of Dion, he was at first diverted by excuses

for delay, followed soon after by complaints and disgusts,

though not as yet observable to others, Dionysius endeavoring to

conceal them, and, by other civilities and honorable usage, to

draw him off from his affection to Dion.  And for some time

Plato himself was careful not to let anything of this dishonesty

and breach of promise appear, but bore with it, and dissembled

his annoyance.  While matters stood thus between them, and, as

they thought, they were unobserved and undiscovered, Helicon the

Cyzicenian, one of Plato's followers, foretold an eclipse of the

sun, which happened according to his prediction; for which he

was much admired by the tyrant, and rewarded with a talent of

silver; whereupon Aristippus, jesting with some others of the

philosophers, told them, he also could predict something

extraordinary; and on their entreating him to declare it, "I

foretell," said he, "that before long there will be a quarrel

between Dionysius and Plato."

At length, Dionysius made sale of Dion's estate, and converted

the money to his own use, and removed Plato from an apartment he

had in the gardens of the palace to lodgings among the guards he

kept in pay, who from the first had hated Plato, and sought

opportunity to make away with him, supposing he advised

Dionysius to lay down the government and disband his soldiers.

When Archytas understood the danger he was in, he immediately

sent a galley with messengers to demand him of Dionysius;

alleging that he stood engaged for his safety, upon the

confidence of which Plato had come to Sicily.  Dionysius, to

palliate his secret hatred, before Plato came away, treated him

with great entertainments and all seeming demonstrations of

kindness, but could not forbear breaking out one day into the

expression, "No doubt, Plato, when you are at home among the

philosophers, your companions, you will complain of me, and

reckon up a great many of my faults."  To which Plato answered

with a smile, "The Academy will never, I trust, be at such a

loss for subjects to discuss as to seek one in you."  Thus, they

say, Plato was dismissed; but his own writings do not altogether

agree with this account.

Dion was angry at all this, and not long after declared open

enmity to Dionysius, on hearing what had been done with his

wife; on which matter Plato, also, had had some confidential

correspondence with Dionysius.  Thus it was.  After Dion's

banishment, Dionysius, when he sent Plato back, had desired him

to ask Dion privately, if he would be averse to his wife's

marrying another man, For there went a report, whether true, or

raised by Dion's enemies, that his marriage was not pleasing to

him, and that he lived with his wife on uneasy terms.  When

Plato therefore came to Athens, and had mentioned the subject to

Dion, he wrote a letter to Dionysius, speaking of other matters

openly, but on this in language expressly designed to be

understood by him alone, to the effect that he had talked with

Dion about the business, and that it was evident he would highly

resent the affront, if it should be put into execution.  At that

time, therefore, while there were yet great hopes of an

accommodation, he took no new steps with his sister, suffering

her to live with Dion's child.  But when things were come to

that pass, that no reconciliation could be expected, and Plato,

after his second visit, was again sent away in displeasure, he

then forced Arete, against her will, to marry Timocrates, one of

his favorites; in this action coming short even of his father's

justice and lenity; for he, when Polyxenus, the husband of his

sister, Theste, became his enemy, and fled in alarm out of

Sicily, sent for his sister, and taxed her, that, being privy to

her husband's flight, she had not declared it to him.  But the

lady, confident and fearless, made him this reply: "Do you

believe me, brother, so bad a wife, or so timorous a woman,

that, having known my husband's flight, I would not have borne

him company, and shared his fortunes?  I knew nothing of it;

since otherwise it had been my better lot to be called the wife

of the exile Polyxenus, than the sister of the tyrant

Dionysius."  It is said, he admired her free and ready answer,

as did the Syracusans, also, her courage and virtue, insomuch

that she retained her dignity and princely retinue after the

dissolution of the tyranny, and, when she died, the citizens, by

public decree, attended the solemnity of her funeral.  And the

story, though a digression from the present purpose, was well

worth the telling.

From this time, Dion set his mind upon warlike measures; with

which Plato, out of respect for past hospitalities, and because

of his age, would have nothing to do.  But Speusippus and the

rest of his friends assisted and encouraged him, bidding him

deliver Sicily, which with lift-up hands implored his help, and

with open arms was ready to receive him.  For when Plato was

staying at Syracuse, Speusippus, being oftener than he in

company with the citizens, had more thoroughly made out how

they were inclined; and though at first they had been on their

guard, suspecting his bold language, as though he had been set

on by the tyrant to trepan them, yet at length they trusted him.

There was but one mind and one wish or prayer among them all,

that Dion would undertake the design, and come, though without

either navy, men, horse, or arms; that he would simply put

himself aboard any ship, and lend the Sicilians his person and

name against Dionysius.  This information from Speusippus

encouraged Dion, who, concealing his real purpose, employed his

friends privately to raise what men they could; and many

statesmen and philosophers were assisting to him, as, for

instance, Eudemus the Cyprian, on whose death Aristotle wrote

his Dialogue of the Soul, and Timonides the Leucadian.  They

also engaged on his side Miltas the Thessalian, who was a

prophet, and had studied in the Academy.  But of all that were

banished by Dionysius, who were not fewer than a thousand, five

and twenty only joined in the enterprise; the rest were afraid,

and abandoned it.  The rendezvous was in the island Zacynthus,

where a small force of not quite eight hundred men came

together, all of them, however, persons already distinguished in

plenty of previous hard service, their bodies well trained and

practiced, and their experience and courage amply sufficient to

animate and embolden to action the numbers whom Dion expected to

join him in Sicily.

Yet these men, when they first understood the expedition was

against Dionysius, were troubled and disheartened, blaming Dion,

that, hurried on like a madman by mere passion and despair, he

rashly threw both himself and them into certain ruin.  Nor were

they less angry with their commanders and muster-masters, that

they had not in the beginning let them know the design.  But

when Dion in his address to them had set forth the unsafe and

weak condition of arbitrary government, and declared that he

carried them rather for commanders than soldiers, the citizens

of Syracuse and the rest of the Sicilians having been long ready

for a revolt, and when, after him, Alcimenes, an Achaean of the

highest birth and reputation, who accompanied the expedition,

harangued them to the same effect, they were contented.

It was now the middle of summer, and the Etesian winds blowing

steadily on the seas, the moon was at the full, when Dion

prepared a magnificent sacrifice to Apollo; and with great

solemnity marched his soldiers to the temple in all their arms

and accouterments.  And after the sacrifice, he feasted them all

in the race-course of the Zacynthians, where he had made

provision for their entertainment.  And when here they beheld

with wonder the quantity and the richness of the gold and silver

plate, and the tables laid to entertain them, all far exceeding

the fortunes of a private man, they concluded with themselves,

that a man now past the prime of life, who was master of so much

treasure, would not engage himself in so hazardous an enterprise

without good reason of hope, and certain and sufficient

assurances of aid from friends over there.  Just after the

libations were made, and the accompanying prayers offered, the

moon was eclipsed; which was no wonder to Dion, who understood

the revolutions of eclipses, and the way in which the moon is

overshadowed and the earth interposed between her and the sun.

But because it was necessary that the soldiers, who were

surprised and troubled at it, should be satisfied and

encouraged, Miltas the diviner, standing up in the midst of the

assembly, bade them be of good cheer, and expect all happy

success, for that the divine powers foreshowed that something at

present glorious and resplendent should be eclipsed and

obscured; nothing at this time being more splendid than the

sovereignty of Dionysius, their arrival in Sicily should dim

this glory, and extinguish this brightness.  Thus Miltas, in

public, descanted upon the incident.  But concerning a swarm of

bees which settled on the poop of Dion's ship, he privately told

him and his friends, that he feared the great actions they were

like to perform, though for a time they should thrive and

flourish, would be of short continuance, and soon suffer a

decay.  It is reported, also, that many prodigies happened to

Dionysius at that time.  An eagle, snatching a javelin from one

of the guard, carried it aloft, and from thence let it fall into

the sea.  The water of the sea that washed the castle walls was

for a whole day sweet and potable, as many that tasted it

experienced.  Pigs were farrowed perfect in all their other

parts, but without ears.  This the diviners declared to portend

revolt and rebellion, for that the subjects would no longer give

ear to the commands of their superiors.  They expounded the

sweetness of the water to signify to the Syracusans a change

from hard and grievous times into easier and more happy

circumstances.  The eagle being the bird of Jupiter, and the

spear an emblem of power and command, this prodigy was to denote

that the chief of the gods designed the end and dissolution of

the present government.  These things Theopompus relates in his

history.

Two ships of burden carried all Dion's men; a third vessel, of

no great size, and two galleys of thirty oars attended them.  In

addition to his soldiers' own arms, he carried two thousand

shields, a very great number of darts and lances, and abundant

stores of all manner of provisions, that there might be no want

of anything in their voyage; their purpose being to keep out at

sea during the whole voyage, and use the winds, since all the

land was hostile to them, and Philistus, they had been told, was

in Iapygia with a fleet, looking out for them.  Twelve days they

sailed with a fresh and gentle breeze; on the thirteenth, they

made Pachynus, the Sicilian cape.  There Protus, the chief

pilot, advised them to land at once and without delay, for if

they were forced again from the shore, and did not take

advantage of the headland, they might ride out at sea many

nights and days, waiting for a southerly wind in the summer

season.  But Dion, fearing a descent too near his enemies, and

desirous to begin at a greater distance, and further on in the

country, sailed on past Pachynus.  They had not gone far, before

stress of weather, the wind blowing hard at north, drove the

fleet from the coast; and it being now about the time that

Arcturus rises, a violent storm of wind and rain came on, with

thunder and lightning, the mariners were at their wits' end, and

ignorant what course they ran, until on a sudden they found they

were driving with the sea on Cercina, the island on the coast of

Africa, just where it is most craggy and dangerous to run upon.

Upon the cliffs there they escaped narrowly of being forced and

staved to pieces; but, laboring hard at their oars, with much

difficulty they kept clear until the storm ceased.  Then,

lighting by chance upon a vessel, they understood they were upon

the Heads, as it is called, of the Great Syrtis; and when they

were now again disheartened by a sudden calm, and beating to and

fro without making any way, a soft air began to blow from the

land, when they expected anything rather than wind from the

south and scarce believed the happy change of their fortune.

The gale gradually increasing, and beginning to blow fresh, they

clapped on all their sails, and, praying to the gods, put out

again into the open sea, steering right from Africa for Sicily.

And, running steady before the wind, the fifth day they arrived

at Minoa, a little town of Sicily, in the dominion of the

Carthaginians, of which Synalus, an acquaintance and friend of

Dion's, happened at that time to be governor; who, not knowing

it was Dion and his fleet, endeavored to hinder his men from

landing; but they rushed on shore with their swords in their

hands, not slaying any of their opponents (for this Dion had

forbidden, because of his friendship with the Carthaginians),

but forced them to retreat, and, following close, pressed in a

body with them into the place, and took it.  As soon as the two

commanders met, they mutually saluted each other; Dion delivered

up the place again to Synalus, without the least damage done to

anyone therein, and Synalus quartered and entertained the

soldiers, and supplied Dion with what he wanted.

They were most of all encouraged by the happy accident of

Dionysius's absence at this nick of time; for it appeared that

he was lately gone with eighty sail of ships to Italy.

Therefore, when Dion was desirous that the soldiers should

refresh themselves there, after their tedious and troublesome

voyage, they would not be prevailed with, but, earnest to make

the best use of that opportunity, they urged Dion to lead them

straight on to Syracuse.  Leaving therefore their baggage, and

the arms they did not use, Dion desired Synalus to convey them

to him as he had occasion, and marched directly to Syracuse.

The first that came in to him upon his march were two hundred

horse of the Agrigentines who were settled near Ecnomum, and,

after them, the Geloans.  But the news soon flying to Syracuse,

Timocrates, who had married Dion's wife, the sister of

Dionysius, and was the principal man among his friends now

remaining in the city, immediately dispatched a courier to

Dionysius with letters announcing Dion's arrival; while he

himself took all possible care to prevent any stir or tumult in

the city, where all were in great excitement, but as yet

continued quiet, fearing to give too much credit to what was

reported.  A very strange accident happened to the messenger who

was sent with the letters; for being arrived in Italy, as he

traveled through the land of Rhegium, hastening to Dionysius at

Caulonia, he met one of his acquaintance, who was carrying home

part of a sacrifice.  He accepted a piece of the flesh, which

his friend offered him, and proceeded on his journey with all

speed; having traveled a good part of the night, and being

through

weariness forced to take a little rest, he laid himself down in

the next convenient place he came to, which was in a wood near

the road.  A wolf, scenting the flesh, came and seized it as it

lay fastened to the letter-bag, and with the flesh carried away

the bag also, in which were the letters to Dionysius.  The man,

awaking and missing his bag, sought for it up and down a great

while, and, not finding it, resolved not to go to the king

without his letters, but to conceal himself, and keep out of the

way.

Dionysius, therefore, came to hear of the war in Sicily from

other hands, and that a good while after.  In the meantime, as

Dion proceeded in his march, the Camarineans joined his forces,

and the country people in the territory of Syracuse rose and

joined him in a large body.  The Leontines and Campanians, who,

with Timocrates, guarded the Epipolae, receiving a false alarm

which was spread on purpose by Dion, as if he intended to attack

their cities first, left Timocrates, and hastened off to carry

succor to their own homes.  News of which being brought to Dion,

where he lay near Macrae, he raised his camp by night, and came

to the river Anapus, which is distant from the city about ten

furlongs; there he made a halt, and sacrificed by the river,

offering vows to the rising sun.  The soothsayers declared that

the gods promised him victory; and they that were present,

seeing him assisting at the sacrifice with a garland on his

head, one and all crowned themselves with garlands.  There were

about five thousand that had joined his forces in their march;

who, though but ill-provided, with such weapons as came next to

hand, made up by zeal and courage for the want of better arms;

and when once they were told to advance, as if Dion were already

conqueror, they ran forward with shouts and acclamations,

encouraging each other with the hopes of liberty.

The most considerable men and better sort of the citizens of

Syracuse, clad all in white, met him at the gates.  The populace

set upon all that were of Dionysius's party, and principally

searched for those they called setters or informers, a number

of wicked and hateful wretches, who made it their business to go

up and down the city, thrusting themselves into all companies,

that they might inform Dionysius what men said, and how they

stood affected.  These were the first that suffered, being

beaten to death by the crowd.  Timocrates, not being able to

force his way to the garrison that kept the castle, took horse,

and fled out of the city, filling all the places where he came

with fear and confusion, magnifying the amount of Dion's forces,

that he might not be supposed to have deserted his charge

without good reason for it.  By this time, Dion was come up, and

appeared in the sight of the people; he marched first in a rich

suit of arms, and by him on one hand his brother, Megacles, on

the other, Callippus the Athenian, crowned with garlands.  Of

the foreign soldiers, a hundred followed as his guard, and their

several officers led the rest in good order; the Syracusans

looking on and welcoming them, as if they believed the whole to

be a sacred and religious procession, to celebrate the solemn

entrance, after an absence of forty-eight years, of liberty and

popular government.

Dion entered by the Menitid gate, and, having by sound of

trumpet quieted the noise of the people, he caused proclamation

to be made, that Dion and Megacles, who were come to overthrow

the tyrannical government, did declare the Syracusans and all

other Sicilians to be free from the tyrant.  But, being desirous

to harangue the people himself, he went up through the

Achradina.  The citizens on each side the way brought victims

for sacrifice, set out their tables and goblets, and as he

passed by each door threw flowers and ornaments upon him, with

vows and acclamations, honoring him as a god.  There was under

the castle and the Pentapyla a lofty and conspicuous sundial,

which Dionysius had set up.  Getting up upon the top of that, he

made an oration to the people, calling upon them to maintain and

defend their liberty; who, with great expressions of joy and

acknowledgment, created Dion and Megacles generals, with plenary

powers, joining in commission with them, at their desire and

entreaty, twenty colleagues, of whom half were of those that had

returned with them out of banishment.  It seemed also to the

diviners a most happy omen, that Dion, when he made his address

to the people, had under his feet the stately monument which

Dionysius had been at such pains to erect; but because it was a

sundial on which he stood when he was made general, they

expressed some fears that the great actions he had performed

might be subject to change, and admit some rapid turn and

declination of fortune.

After this, Dion, taking the Epipolae, released the citizens who

were imprisoned there, and then raised a wall to invest the

castle.  Seven days after, Dionysus arrived by sea, and got into

the citadel, and about the same time came carriages bringing the

arms and ammunition which Dion had left with Synalus.  These he

distributed among the citizens; and the rest that wanted

furnished themselves as well as they could, and put themselves

in the condition of zealous and serviceable men-at-arms.

Dionysius sent agents, at first privately, to Dion, to try what

terms they could make with him.  But he declaring that any

overtures they had to make must be made in public to the

Syracusans as a free people, envoys now went and came between

the tyrant and the people, with fair proposals, and assurances

that they should have abatements of their tributes and taxes,

and freedom from the burdens of military expeditions, all which

should be made according to their own approbation and consent

with him.  The Syracusans laughed at these offers, and Dion

returned answer to the envoys that Dionysius must not think to

treat with them upon any other terms but resigning the

government; which if he would actually do, he would not forget

how nearly he was related to him, or be wanting to assist him in

procuring oblivion for the past, and whatever else was

reasonable and just.  Dionysius seemed to consent to this, and

sent his agents again, desiring some of the Syracusans to come

into the citadel and discuss with him in person the terms to

which on each side they might be willing, after fair debate, to

consent.  There were therefore some deputed, such as Dion

approved of; and the general rumor from the castle was, that

Dionysius would voluntarily resign his authority, and rather do

it himself as his own good deed, than let it be the act of Dion.

But this profession was a mere trick to amuse the Syracusans.

For he put the deputies that were sent to him in custody, and by

break of day, having first, to encourage his men, made them

drink plentifully of raw wine, he sent the garrison of

mercenaries out to make a sudden sally against Dion's works.

The attack was quite unexpected, and the barbarians set to work

boldly with loud cries to pull down the cross-wall, and assailed

the Syracusans so furiously that they were not able to maintain

their post.  Only a party of Dion's hired soldiers, on first

taking the alarm, advanced to the rescue; neither did they at

first know what to do, or how to employ the aid they brought,

not being able to hear the commands of their officers, amidst

the noise and confusion of the Syracusans, who fled from the

enemy and ran in among them, breaking through their ranks, until

Dion, seeing none of his orders could be heard, resolved to let

them see by example what they ought to do, and charged into the

thickest of the enemy.  The fight about him was fierce and

bloody, he being as well known by the enemy as by his own party,

and all running with loud cries to the quarter where he fought.

Though his time of life was no longer that of the bodily

strength and agility for such a combat, still his determination

and courage were sufficient to maintain him against all that

attacked him; but, while bravely driving them back, he was

wounded in the hand with a lance, his body armor also had been

much battered, and was scarcely any longer serviceable to

protect him, either against missiles or blows hand to hand.

Many spears and javelins had passed into it through the shield,

and, on these being broken back, he fell to the ground, but was

immediately rescued, and carried off by his soldiers.  The

command-in-chief he left to Timonides, and, mounting a horse,

rode about the city, rallying the Syracusans that fled; and,

ordering up a detachment of the foreign soldiers out of

Achradina, where they were posted on guard, he brought them as a

fresh reserve, eager for battle, upon the tired and failing

enemy, who were already well inclined to give up their design.

For having hopes at their first sally to retake the whole city,

when beyond their expectation they found themselves engaged with

bold and practiced fighters, they fell back towards the castle.

As soon as they gave ground, the Greek soldiers pressed the

harder upon them, till they turned and fled within the walls.

There were lost in this action seventy-four of Dion's men, and a

very great number of the enemy.  This being a signal victory,

and principally obtained by the valor of the foreign soldiers,

the Syracusans rewarded them in honor of it with a hundred

minae, and the soldiers on their part presented Dion with a

crown of gold.

Soon after, there came heralds from Dionysius, bringing Dion

letters from the women of his family, and one addressed outside,

"To his father, from Hipparinus;" this was the name of Dion's

son, though Timaeus says, he was, from his mother Arete's name,

called Aretaeus; but I think credit is rather to be given to

Timonides's report, who was his father's fellow-soldier and

confidant.  The rest of the letters were read publicly,

containing many solicitations and humble requests of the women;

that professing to be from his son, the heralds would not have

them open publicly, but Dion, putting force upon them, broke the

seal.  It was from Dionysius, written in the terms of it to

Dion, but in effect to the Syracusans, and so worded that, under

a plausible justification of himself and entreaty to him, means

were taken for rendering him suspected by the people.  It

reminded him of the good service he had formerly done the

usurping government, it added threats to his dearest relations,

his sister, son, and wife, if he did not comply with the

contents, also passionate demands mingled with lamentations,

and, most to the purpose of all, urgent recommendations to him

not to destroy the government, and put the power into the hands

of men who always hated him, and would never forget their old

piques and quarrels; let him take the sovereignty himself, and

so secure the safety of his family and his friends.

When this letter was read, the Syracusans were not, as they

should have been, transported with admiration at the unmovable

constancy and magnanimity of Dion, who withstood all his dearest

interests to be true to virtue and justice, but, on the

contrary, they saw in this their reason for fearing and

suspecting that he lay under an invincible necessity to be

favorable to Dionysius; and they began therefore to look out for

other leaders, and the rather, because to their great joy they

received the news that Heraclides was on his way.  This

Heraclides was one of those whom Dionysius had banished, very

good soldier, and well known for the commands he had formerly

had under the tyrant; yet a man of no constant purpose, of a

fickle temper, and least of all to be relied upon when he had to

act with a colleague in any honorable command.  He had had a

difference formerly with Dion in Peloponnesus, and had resolved,

upon his own means, with what ships and soldiers he had, to make

an attack upon Dionysius.  When he arrived at Syracuse, with

seven galleys and three small vessels, he found Dionysius

already close besieged, and the Syracusans high and proud of

their victories.  Forthwith, therefore, he endeavored by all

ways to make himself popular; and, indeed, he had in him

naturally something that was very insinuating and taking with a

populace that loves to be courted.  He gained his end, also, the

easier, and drew the people over to his side, because of the

dislike they had taken to Dion's grave and stately manner, which

they thought overbearing and assuming; their successes having

made them so careless and confident, that they expected popular

arts and flatteries from their leaders, before they had in

reality secured a popular government.

Getting therefore together in an irregular assembly, they chose

Heraclides their admiral; but when Dion came forward, and told

them, that conferring this trust upon Heraclides was in effect

to withdraw that which they had granted him, for he was no

longer their generalissimo if another had the command of the

navy, they repealed their order, and, though much against their

wills, canceled the new appointment.  When this business was

over, Dion invited Heraclides to his house, and pointed out to

him, in gentle terms, that he had not acted wisely or well to

quarrel with him upon a punctilio of honor, at a time when the

least false step might be the ruin of all; and then, calling a

fresh assembly of the people, he there named Heraclides admiral,

and prevailed with the citizens to allow him a life-guard, as he

himself had.

Heraclides openly professed the highest respect for Dion, and

made him great acknowledgments for this favor, attending him

with all deference, as ready to receive his commands; but

underhand he kept up his dealings with the populace and the

unrulier citizens, unsettling their minds and disturbing them

with his complaints, and putting Dion into the utmost perplexity

and disquiet.  For if he advised to give Dionysius leave to quit

the castle, he would be exposed to the imputation of sparing and

protecting him; if, to avoid giving offense or suspicion, he

simply continued the siege, they would say he protracted the

war, to keep his office of general the longer, and overawe the

citizens.

There was one Sosis, notorious in the city for his bad conduct

and his impudence, yet a favorite with the people, for the very

reason that they liked to see it made a part of popular

privileges to carry free speech to this excess of license.  This

man, out of a design against Dion, stood up one day in an

assembly, and, having sufficiently railed at the citizens as a

set of fools, that could not see how they had made an exchange

of a dissolute and drunken for a sober and watchful despotism,

and thus having publicly declared himself Dion's enemy, took his

leave.  The next day, he was seen running through the streets,

as if he fled from some that pursued him, almost naked, wounded

in the head, and bloody all over.  In this condition, getting

people about him in the marketplace, he told them that he had

been assaulted by Dion's men; and, to confirm what he said,

showed them the wounds he had received in his head.  And a good

many took his part, exclaiming loudly against Dion for his cruel

and tyrannical conduct, stopping the mouths of the people by

bloodshed and peril of life.  Just as an assembly was gathering

in this unsettled and tumultuous state of mind, Dion came before

them, and made it appear how this Sosis was brother to one of

Dionysius's guard, and that he was set on by him to embroil the

city in tumult and confusion; Dionysius having now no way left

for his security but to make his advantage of their dissensions

and distractions.  The surgeons, also, having searched the

wound, found it was rather razed, than cut with a downright

blow; for the wounds made with a sword are, from their mere

weight, most commonly deepest in the middle, but this was very

slight, and all along of an equal depth; and it was not one

continued wound, as if cut at once, but several incisions, in

all probability made at several times, as he was able to endure

the pain.  There were credible persons, also, who brought a

razor, and showed it in the assembly, stating that they met

Sosis running in the street, all bloody, who told them that he

was flying from Dion's soldiers, who had just attacked and

wounded him; they ran at once to look after them, and met no

one, but spied this razor lying under a hollow stone near the

place from which they observed he came.

Sosis was now likely to come by the worst of it.  But when, to

back all this, his own servants came in, and gave evidence that

he had left his house alone before break of day, with the razor

in his hand, Dion's accusers withdrew themselves, and the people

by a general vote condemned Sosis to die, being once again well

satisfied with Dion and his proceedings.

Yet they were still as jealous as before of his soldiers, and

the rather, because the war was now carried on principally by

sea; Philistus being come from Iapygia with a great fleet to

Dionysius's assistance.  They supposed, therefore, that there

would be no longer need of the soldiers, who were all landsmen

and armed accordingly: these were rather, indeed, they thought,

in a condition to be protected by themselves, who were seamen,

and had their power in their shipping.  Their good opinion of

themselves was also much enhanced by an advantage they got in an

engagement by sea, in which they took Philistus prisoner, and

used him in a barbarous and cruel manner.  Ephorus relates that

when he saw his ship was taken he slew himself.  But Timonides,

who was with Dion from the very first, and was present at all

the events as they occurred, writing to Speusippus the

philosopher, relates the story thus: that Philistus's galley

running aground, he was taken prisoner alive, and first

disarmed, then stripped of his corslet, and exposed naked, being

now an old man, to every kind of contumely; after which they cut

off his head, and gave his body to the boys of the town, bidding

them drag it through the Achradina, and then throw it into the

Quarries.  Timaeus, to increase the mockery, adds further, that

the boys tied him by his lame leg, and so drew him through the

streets, while the Syracusans stood by laughing and jesting at

the sight of that very man thus tied and dragged about by the

leg, who had told Dionysius, that, so far from flying on

horseback from Syracuse, he ought to wait till he should be

dragged out by the heels.  Philistus, however, has stated, that

this was said to Dionysius by another, and not by himself.

Timaeus avails himself of this advantage, which Philistus truly

enough affords against himself in his zealous and constant

adherence to the tyranny, to vent his own spleen and malice

against him.  They, indeed, who were injured by him at the time

are perhaps excusable, if they carried their resentment to the

length of indignities to his dead body; but they who write

history afterwards, and were noway wronged by him in his

lifetime, and have received assistance from his writings, in

honor should not with opprobrious and scurrilous language

upbraid him for those misfortunes, which may well enough befall

even the best of men.  On the other side, Ephorus is as much out

of the way in his encomiums.  For, however ingenious he is in

supplying unjust acts and wicked conduct with fair and worthy

motives, and in selecting decorous and honorable terms, yet when

he does his best, he does not himself stand clear of the charge

of being the greatest lover of tyrants, and the fondest admirer

of luxury and power and rich estates and alliances of marriage

with absolute princes.  He that neither praises Philistus for

his conduct, nor insults over his misfortunes, seems to me to

take the fittest course.

After Philistus's death, Dionysius sent to Dion, offering to

surrender the castle, all the arms, provisions, and

garrison-soldiers, with full pay for them for five months,

demanding in return that he might have safe conduct to go

unmolested into Italy, and there to continue, and also to enjoy

the revenues of Gyarta, a large and fruitful territory belonging

to Syracuse, reaching from the sea-side to the middle of the

country.  Dion rejected these proposals, and referred him to the

Syracusans.  They, hoping in a short time to take Dionysius

alive, dismissed his ambassadors summarily.  But he, leaving his

eldest son, Apollocrates, to defend the castle, and putting on

board his ships the persons and the property that he set most

value upon, took the opportunity of a fair wind, and made his

escape, undiscovered by the admiral Heraclides and his fleet.

The citizens loudly exclaimed against Heraclides for this

neglect; but he got one of their public speakers, Hippo by name,

to go among them, and make proposals to the assembly for a

redivision of lands, alleging that the first beginning of

liberty was equality, and that poverty and slavery were

inseparable companions.  In support of this, Heraclides spoke,

and used the faction in favor of it to overpower Dion, who

opposed it; and, in fine, he persuaded the people to ratify it

by their vote, and further to decree, that the foreign soldiers

should receive no pay, and that they would elect new commanders,

and so be rid of Dion's oppression.  The people, attempting, as

it were, after their long sickness of despotism, all at once to

stand on their legs, and to do the part, for which they were yet

unfit, of freemen, stumbled in all their actions; and yet hated

Dion, who, like a good physician, endeavored to keep the city to

a strict and temperate regimen.

When they met in the assembly to choose their commanders, about

the middle of summer, unusual and terrible thunders, with other

inauspicious appearances, for fifteen days together, dispersed

the people, deterring them, on grounds of religious fear, from

creating new generals.  But, at last, the popular leaders,

having found a fair and clear day, and having got their party

together, were proceeding to an election, when a draught-ox, who

was used to the crowd and noise of the streets, but for some

reason or other grew unruly to his driver, breaking from his

yoke, ran furiously into the theater where they were assembled,

and set the people flying and running in all directions before

him in the greatest disorder and confusion; and from thence went

on, leaping and rushing about, over all that part of the city

which the enemies afterwards made themselves masters of.

However, the Syracusans, not regarding all this, elected five

and twenty captains, and, among the rest, Heraclides; and

underhand tampered with Dion's men, promising, if they would

desert him, and enlist themselves in their service, to make them

citizens of Syracuse, with all the privileges of natives.  But

they would not hear the proposals, but, to show their fidelity

and courage, with their swords in their hands, placing Dion for

his security in the midst of their battalion, conveyed him out

of the city, not offering violence to anyone, but upbraiding

those they met with their baseness and ingratitude.  The

citizens, seeing they were but few, and did not offer any

violence, despised them; and, supposing that with their large

numbers they might with ease overpower and cut them off before

they got out of the city, fell upon them in the rear.

Here Dion was in a great strait, being necessitated either to

fight against his own countrymen, or tamely suffer himself and

his faithful soldiers to be cut in pieces.  He used many

entreaties to the Syracusans, stretching out his hands towards

the castle, that was full of their enemies, and showing them the

soldiers, who in great numbers appeared on the walls and watched

what was doing.  But when no persuasions could divert the

impulse of the multitude, and the whole mass, like the sea in a

storm, seemed to be driven before the breath of the demagogues,

he commanded his men, not to charge them, but to advance with

shouts and clashing of their arms; which being done, not a man

of them stood his ground; all fled at once through the streets,

though none pursued them.  For Dion immediately commanded his

men to face about, and led them towards the city of the

Leontines.

The very women laughed at the new captains for this retreat; so

to redeem their credit, they bid the citizens arm themselves

again, and followed after Dion, and came up with him as he was

passing a river.  Some of the light-horse rode up and began to

skirmish.  But when they saw Dion no more tame and calm, and no

signs in his face of any fatherly tenderness towards his

countrymen, but with an angry countenance, as resolved not to

suffer their indignities any longer, bidding his men face round

and form in their ranks for the onset, they presently turned

their backs more basely than before, and fled to the city, with

the loss of some few of their men.

The Leontines received Dion very honorably, gave money to his

men, and made them free of their city; sending envoys to the

Syracusans, to require them to do the soldiers justice, who, in

return, sent back other agents to accuse Dion.  But when a

general meeting of the confederates met in the town of the

Leontines, and the matter was heard and debated, the Syracusans

were held to be in fault.  They, however, refused to stand to

the award of their allies, following their own conceit, and

making it their pride to listen to no one, and not to have any

commanders but those who would fear and obey the people.

About this time, Dionysius sent in a fleet, under the command of

Nypsius the Neapolitan, with provisions and pay for the

garrison.  The Syracusans fought him, had the better, and took

four of his ships; but they made very ill use of their good

success, and, for want of good discipline, fell in their joy to

drinking and feasting in an extravagant manner, with so little

regard to their main interest, that, when they thought

themselves sure of taking the castle, they actually lost their

city.  Nypsius, seeing the citizens in this general disorder,

spending day and night in their drunken singing and reveling,

and their commanders well pleased with the frolic, or at least

not daring to try and give any orders to men in their drink,

took advantage of this opportunity, made a sally, and stormed

their works; and, having made his way through these, let his

barbarians loose upon the city, giving up it and all that were

in it to their pleasure.

The Syracusans quickly saw their folly and misfortune, but could

not, in the distraction they were in, so soon redress it.  The

city was in actual process of being sacked, the enemy putting

the men to the sword, demolishing the fortifications, and

dragging the women and children with lamentable shrieks and

cries prisoners into the castle.  The commanders, giving all for

lost, were not able to put the citizens in any tolerable posture

of defense, finding them confusedly mixed up and scattered among

the enemy.  While they were in this condition, and the Achradina

in danger to be taken, everyone was sensible who he was in whom

all their remaining hopes rested, but no man for shame durst

name Dion, whom they had so ungratefully and foolishly dealt

with.  Necessity at last forcing them, some of the auxiliary

troops and horsemen cried out, "Send for Dion and his

Peloponnesians from the Leontines."  No sooner was the venture

made and the name heard among the people, but they gave a shout

for joy, and, with tears in their eyes, wished him there, that

they might once again see that leader at the head of them, whose

courage and bravery in the worst of dangers they well

remembered, calling to mind not only with what an undaunted

spirit he always behaved himself, but also with what courage and

confidence he inspired them when he led them against the enemy.

They immediately, therefore, dispatched Archonides and Telesides

of the confederate troops, and of the horsemen Hellanicus and

four others.  These, traversing the road between at their

horses' full speed, reached the town of the Leontines in the

evening.  The first thing they did was to leap from their horses

and fall at Dion's feet, relating with tears the sad condition

the Syracusans were in.  Many of the Leontines and

Peloponnesians began to throng about them, guessing by their

speed and the manner of their address that something

extraordinary had occurred.

Dion at once led the way to the assembly, and, the people being

gathered together in a very little time, Archonides and

Hellanicus and the others came in among them, and in short

declared the misery and distress of the Syracusans, begging the

foreign soldiers to forget the injuries they had received, and

assist the afflicted, who had suffered more for the wrong they

had done, than they themselves who received it would (had it

been in their power) have inflicted upon them.  When they had

made an end, there was a profound silence in the theater; Dion

then stood up, and began to speak, but tears stopped his words;

his soldiers were troubled at his grief, but bade him take good

courage and proceed.  When he had recovered himself a little,

therefore, "Men of Peloponnesus," he said, "and of the

confederacy, I asked for your presence here, that you might

consider your own interests.  For myself, I have no interests to

consult while Syracuse is perishing, and, though I may not save

it from destruction, I will nevertheless hasten thither, and be

buried in the ruins of my country.  Yet if you can find in your

hearts to assist us, the most inconsiderate and unfortunate of

men, you may to your eternal honor again retrieve this unhappy

city.  But if the Syracusans can obtain no more pity nor relief

from you, may the gods reward you for what you have formerly

valiantly done for them, and for your kindness to Dion, of whom

speak hereafter as one who deserted you not when you were

injured and abused, nor afterwards forsook his fellow-citizens

in their afflictions and misfortunes."

Before he had yet ended his speech, the soldiers leapt up, and

with a great shout testified their readiness for the service,

crying out, to march immediately to the relief of the city.  The

Syracusan messengers hugged and embraced them, praying the Gods

to send down blessings upon Dion and the Peloponnesians.  When

the noise was pretty well over, Dion gave orders that all should

go to their quarters to prepare for their march, and, having

refreshed themselves, come ready armed to their rendezvous in

the place where they now were, resolving that very night to

attempt the rescue.

Now at Syracuse, Dionysius's soldiers, as long as day continued,

ransacked the city, and did all the mischief they could; but

when night came on, they retired into the castle, having lost

some few of their number.  At which the factious ringleaders

taking heart, and hoping the enemy would rest content with what

they had done and make no further attempt upon them, persuaded

the people again to reject Dion, and, if he came with the

foreign soldiers, not to admit him; advising them not to yield,

as inferior to them in point of honor and courage, but to save

their city and defend their liberties and properties themselves.

The populace, therefore, and their leaders sent messengers to

Dion to forbid him to advance, while the noble citizens and the

horse sent others to him to desire him to hasten his march; for

which reason he slacked his pace, yet did not remit his advance.

And in the course of the night, the faction that was against him

set a guard upon the gates of the city to hinder him from coming

in.  But Nypsius made another sally out of the castle with a far

greater number of men, and those far more bold and eager than

before, who quite ruined what of the rampart was left standing,

and fell in, pell-mell, to sack and ravage the city.  The

slaughter was now very great, not only of the men, but of the

women also and children; for they regarded not so much the

plunder, as to destroy and kill all they met.  For Dionysius,

despairing to regain the kingdom, and mortally hating the

Syracusans, resolved to bury his lost sovereignty in the ruin

and desolation of Syracuse.  The soldiers, therefore, to

anticipate Dion's succors, resolved upon the most complete and

ready way of destruction, to lay the city in ashes, firing all

at hand with torches and lamps, and at distance with flaming

arrows, shot from their bows.  The citizens fled every way

before them; they who, to avoid the fire, forsook their houses

were taken in the streets and put to the sword; they who betook

themselves for refuge into the houses were forced out again by

the flames, many buildings being now in a blaze, and many

falling in ruins upon them as they fled past.

This fresh misfortune by general consent opened the gates for

Dion.  He had given up his rapid advance, when he received

advice that the enemies were retreated into the castle; but, in

the morning, some horse brought him the news of another assault,

and, soon after, some of those who before opposed his coming

fled now to him, to entreat him he would hasten his relief.  The

pressure increasing, Heraclides sent his brother, and after him

his uncle, Theodotes, to beg him to help them: for that now they

were not able to resist any longer; he himself was wounded, and

the greatest part of the city either in ruins or in flames.

When Dion met this sad news, he was about sixty furlongs distant

from the city.  When he had acquainted the soldiers with the

exigency, and exhorted them to behave themselves like men, the

army no longer marched but ran forwards, and by the way were met

by messengers upon messengers entreating them to make haste.  By

the wonderful eagerness of the soldiers and their extraordinary

speed, Dion quickly came to the city and entered what is called

the Hecatompedon, sending his light-armed men at once to charge

the enemy, that, seeing them, the Syracusans might take courage.

In the meantime, he drew up in good order his full-armed men

and all the citizens that came in and joined him; forming his

battalions deep, and distributing his officers in many separate

commands, that he might, be able to attack from many quarters at

once, and so he more alarming to the enemy.

So, having made his arrangements and offered vows to the gods,

when he was seen in the streets advancing at the head of his men

to engage the enemy, a confused noise of shouts,

congratulations, vows, and prayers was raised by the Syracusans,

who now called Dion their deliverer and tutelar deity, and his

soldiers their friends, brethren, and fellow-citizens.  And,

indeed, at that moment, none seemed to regard themselves, or

value their safeties, but to be concerned more for Dion's life

than for all their own together, as he marched at the head of

them to meet the danger, through blood and fire and over heaps

of dead bodies that lay in his way.

And indeed the posture of the enemy was in appearance terrible;

for they were flushed and ferocious with victory, and had posted

themselves very advantageously along the demolished works, which

made the access to them very hazardous and difficult.  Yet that

which disturbed Dion's soldiers most was the apprehension they

were in of the fire, which made their march very trouble some

and difficult; for the houses being in flames on al] sides, they

were met everywhere with the blaze, and, treading upon burning

ruins and every minute in danger of being overwhelmed with

falling houses, through clouds of ashes and smoke they labored

hard to keep their order and maintain their ranks.  When they

came near to the enemy, the approach was so narrow and uneven

that but few of them could engage at a time; but at length, with

loud cheers and much zeal on the part of the Syracusans,

encouraging them and joining with them, they beat off Nypsius's

men, and put them to flight.  Most of them escaped into the

castle, which was near at hand; all that could not get in were

pursued and picked up here and there by the soldiers, and put to

the sword.  The present exigency, however, did not suffer the

citizens to take immediate benefit of their victory in such

mutual congratulations and embraces as became so great a

success; for now all were busily employed to save what houses

were left standing, laboring hard all night, and scarcely so

could master the fire.

The next day, not one of the popular haranguers durst stay in

the city, but all of them, knowing their own guilt, by their

flight confessed it, and secured their lives.  Only Heraclides

and Theodotes went voluntarily and surrendered themselves to

Dion, acknowledging that they had wronged him, and begging he

would be kinder to them than they had been just to him; adding,

how much it would become him who was master of so many excellent

accomplishments, to moderate his anger and be generously

compassionate to ungrateful men, who were here before him,

making their confession, that, in all the matter of their former

enmity and rivalry against him, they were now absolutely

overcome by his virtue.  Though they thus humbly addressed him,

his friends advised him not to pardon these turbulent and

ill-conditioned men, but to yield them to the desires of his

soldiers, and utterly root out of the commonwealth the ambitious

affectation of popularity, a disease as pestilent and pernicious

as the passion for tyranny itself.  Dion endeavored to satisfy

them, telling them that other generals exercised and trained

themselves for the most part in the practices of war and arms;

but that he had long studied in the Academy how to conquer

anger, and not let emulation and envy conquer him; that to do

this it is not sufficient that a man be obliging and kind to his

friends, and those that have deserved well of him, but rather,

gentle and ready to forgive in the case of those who do wrong;

that he wished to let the world see that he valued not himself

so much upon excelling Heraclides in ability and conduct, as he

did in outdoing him in justice and clemency; herein to have the

advantage is to excel indeed; whereas the honor of success in

war is never entire; fortune will be sure to dispute it, though

no man should pretend to have a claim.  What if Heraclides be

perfidious, malicious, and base, must Dion therefore sully or

injure his virtue by passionate concern for it?  For, though the

laws determine it juster to revenge an injury than to do an

injury, yet it is evident that both, in the nature of things,

originally proceed from the same deficiency and weakness.  The

malicious humor of men, though perverse and refractory, is not

so savage and invincible but it may be wrought upon by kindness,

and altered by repeated obligations.  Dion, making use of these

arguments, pardoned and dismissed Heraclides and Theodotes.

And now, resolving to repair the blockade about the castle, he

commanded all the Syracusans to cut each man a stake and bring

it to the works; and then, dismissing them to refresh

themselves, and take their rest, he employed his own men all

night, and by morning had finished his line of palisade; so that

both the enemy and the citizens wondered, when day returned, to

see the work so far advanced in so short a time.  Burying

therefore the dead, and redeeming the prisoners, who were near

two thousand, he called a public assembly, where Heraclides made

a motion that Dion should be declared general with full powers

at land and sea.  The better citizens approved well of it, and

called on the people to vote it so.  But the mob of sailors and

handicraftsmen would not yield that Heraclides should lose his

command of the navy; believing him, if otherwise an ill man, at

any rate to be more citizenlike than Dion, and readier to comply

with the people.  Dion therefore submitted to them in this, and

consented Heraclides should continue admiral.  But when they

began to press the project of the redistribution of lands and

houses, he not only opposed it, but repealed all the votes they

had formerly made upon that account, which sensibly vexed them.

Heraclides, therefore, took a new advantage of him, and, being

at Messene, harangued the soldiers and ships' crews that sailed

with him, accusing Dion that he had a design to make himself

absolute.  And yet at the same time he held private

correspondence for a treaty with Dionysius by means of Pharax

the Spartan.  Which when the noble citizens of Syracuse had

intimation of, there arose a sedition in the army, and the city

was in great distress and want of provisions; and Dion now knew

not what course to take, being also blamed by all his friends

for having thus fortified against himself such a perverse and

jealous and utterly corrupted man as Heraclides was.

Pharax at this time lay encamped at Neapolis, in the territory

of Agrigentum.  Dion, therefore, led out the Syracusans, but

with an intent not to engage him till he saw a fit opportunity.

But Heraclides and his seamen exclaimed against him, that he

delayed fighting on purpose that he might the longer continue

his command; so that, much against his will, he was forced to an

engagement and was beaten, his loss however being

inconsiderable, and that occasioned chiefly by the dissension

that was in the army.  He rallied his men, and, having put them

in good order and encouraged them to redeem their credit,

resolved upon a second battle.  But, in the evening, he received

advice that Heraclides with his fleet was on his way to

Syracuse, with the purpose to possess himself of the city and

keep him and his army out.  Instantly, therefore, taking with

him some of the strongest and most active of his men, he rode

off in the dark, and about nine the next morning was at the

gates, having ridden seven hundred furlongs that night.

Heraclides, though he strove to make all the speed he could,

yet, coming too late, tacked and stood out again to sea; and,

being unresolved what course to steer, accidentally he met

Gaesylus the Spartan, who told him he was come from Lacedaemon

to head the Sicilians, as Gylippus had formerly done.

Heraclides was only too glad to get hold of him, and fastening

him as it might be a sort of amulet to himself, he showed him to

the confederates, and sent a herald to Syracuse to summon them

to accept the Spartan general.  Dion returned answer that they

had generals enough, and, if they wanted a Spartan to command

them, he could supply that office, being himself a citizen of

Sparta.  When Gaesylus saw this, he gave up all pretensions, and

sailed in to Dion, and reconciled Heraclides to him, making

Heraclides swear the most solemn oaths to perform what he

engaged, Gaesylus himself also undertaking to maintain Dion's

right, and inflict chastisement on Heraclides if he broke his

faith.

The Syracusans then laid up their navy, which was at present a

great charge and of little use to them, but an occasion of

differences and dissensions among the generals, and pressed on

the siege, finishing the wall of blockade with which they

invested the castle.  The besieged, seeing no hopes of succors

and their provisions failing, began to mutiny; so that the son

of Dionysius, in despair of holding out longer for his father,

capitulated, and articled with Dion to deliver up the castle

with all the garrison soldiers and ammunition; and so, taking

his mother and sisters and manning five galleys, he set out to

go to his father, Dion seeing him safely out, and scarce a man

in all the city not being there to behold the sight, as indeed

they called even on those that were not present, out of pity

that they could not be there, to see this happy day and the sun

shining on a free Syracuse.  And as this expulsion of Dionysius

is even now always cited as one of the greatest and most

remarkable examples of fortune's vicissitudes, how extraordinary

may we imagine their joy to have been, and how entire their

satisfaction, who had totally subverted the most potent tyranny

that ever was by very slight and inconsiderable means!

When Apollocrates was gone, and Dion coming to take possession

of the castle, the women could not stay while he made his entry,

but ran to meet him at the gate.  Aristomache led Dion's son,

and Arete followed after weeping, fearful and dubious how to

salute or address her husband, after living with another man.

Dion first embraced his sister, then his son; when Aristomache

bringing Arete to him, "O Dion," said she, "your banishment made

us all equally miserable; your return and victory has canceled

all sorrows, excepting this poor sufferer's, whom I, unhappy,

saw compelled to be another's, while you were yet alive.

Fortune has now given you the sole disposal of us; how will you

determine concerning her hard fate?  In what relation must she

salute you as her uncle, or as her husband?"  This speech of

Aristomache's brought tears from Dion, who with great affection

embraced his wife, gave her his son, and desired her to retire

to his own house, where he continued to reside when he had

delivered up the castle to the Syracusans.

For though all things had now succeeded to his wish, yet he

desired not to enjoy any present advantage of his good fortune,

except to gratify his friends, reward his allies, and bestow

upon his companions of former time in Athens and the soldiers

that had served him some special mark of kindness and honor,

striving herein to outdo his very means in his generosity.  As

for himself, he was content with a very frugal and moderate

competency, and was indeed the wonder of all men, that when not

only Sicily and Carthage, but all Greece looked to him as in the

height of prosperity, and no man living greater than he, no

general more renowned for valor and success, yet in his garb,

his attendance, his table, he seemed as if he rather commoned

with Plato in the Academy than lived among hired captains and

paid soldiers, whose solace of their toils and dangers it is to

eat and drink their fill, and enjoy themselves plentifully every

day.  Plato indeed wrote to him that the eyes of all the world

were now upon him; but it is evident that he himself had fixed

his eye upon one place in one city, the Academy, and considered

that the spectators and judges there regarded not great actions,

courage, or fortune, but watched to see how temperately and

wisely he could use his prosperity, how evenly he could behave

himself in the high condition he now was in.  Neither did he

remit anything of his wonted stateliness in conversation or

serious carriage to the people; he made it rather a point to

maintain it, notwithstanding that a little condescension and

obliging civility were very necessary for his present affairs;

and Plato, as we said before, rebuked him, and wrote to tell him

that self-will keeps house with solitude.  But certainly his

natural temperament was one that could not bend to complaisance;

and, besides, he wished to work the Syracusans back the other

way, out of their present excess of license and caprice.

Heraclides began again to set up against him, and, being invited

by Dion to make one of the Council, refused to come, saying he

would give his opinion as a private citizen in the public

assembly.  Next he complained of Dion because he had not

demolished the citadel, and because he had hindered the people

from throwing down Dionysius's tomb and doing despite to the

dead; moreover he accused him for sending to Corinth for

counselors and assistants in the government, thereby neglecting

and slighting his fellow-citizens.  And indeed he had sent

messages for some Corinthians to come to him, hoping by their

means and presence the better to settle that constitution he

intended; for he designed to suppress the unlimited democratic

government, which indeed is not a government, but, as Plato

calls it, a marketplace of governments, and to introduce and

establish a mixed polity, on the Spartan and Cretan model,

between a commonwealth and a monarchy, wherein an aristocratic

body should preside, and determine all matters of greatest

consequence; for he saw also that the Corinthians were chiefly

governed by something like an oligarchy, and the people but

little concerned in public business.

Now knowing that Heraclides would be his most considerable

adversary, and that in all ways he was a turbulent, fickle, and

factious man, he gave way to some whom formerly he hindered when

they designed to kill him, who, breaking in, murdered Heraclides

in his own house.  His death was much resented by the citizens.

Nevertheless, when Dion made him a splendid funeral, followed

the dead body with all his soldiers, and then addressed them,

they understood that it would have been impossible to have kept

the city quiet, as long as Dion and Heraclides were competitors

in the government.

Dion had a friend called Callippus, an Athenian, who, Plato

says, first made acquaintance and afterwards obtained

familiarity with him, not from any connection with his

philosophic studies, but on occasion afforded by the celebration

of the mysteries, and in the way of ordinary society.  This man

went with him in all his military service, and was in great

honor and esteem; being the first of his friends who marched by

his side into Syracuse, wearing a garland upon his head, having

behaved himself very well in all the battles, and made himself

remarkable for his gallantry.  He, finding that Dion's principal

and most considerable friends were cut off in the war,

Heraclides now dead, and the people without a leader, and that

the soldiers had a great kindness for him, like a perfidious and

wicked villain, in hopes to get the chief command of Sicily as

his reward for the ruin of his friend and benefactor, and, as

some say, being also bribed by the enemy with twenty talents to

destroy Dion, inveigled and engaged several of the soldiers in a

conspiracy against him, taking this cunning and wicked occasion

for his plot.  He daily informed Dion of what he heard or what

he feigned the soldiers said against him; whereby he gained that

credit and confidence, that he was allowed by Dion to consort

privately with whom he would, and talk freely against him in any

company, that he might discover who were his secret and factious

maligners.  By this means, Callippus in a short time got

together a cabal of all the seditious malcontents in the city;

and if anyone who would not be drawn in advised Dion that he

was tampered with, he was not troubled or concerned at it,

believing Callippus did it in compliance with his directions.

While this conspiracy was afoot, a strange and dreadful

apparition was seen by Dion.  As he sat one evening in a gallery

in his house alone and thoughtful, hearing a sudden noise he

turned about, and saw at the end of the colonnade, by clear

daylight, a tall woman, in her countenance and garb like one of

the tragical Furies, with a broom in her hand, sweeping the

floor.  Being amazed and extremely affrighted, he sent for some

of his friends, and told them what he had seen, entreating them

to stay with him and keep him company all night; for he was

excessively discomposed and alarmed, fearing that if he were

left alone the specter would again appear to him.  He saw it no

more.  But a few days after, his only son, being almost grown up

to man's estate, upon some displeasure and pet he had taken upon

a childish and frivolous occasion, threw himself headlong from

the top of the house and broke his neck.

While Dion was under this affliction, Callippus drove on his

conspiracy, and spread a rumor among the Syracusans, that Dion,

being now childless, was resolved to send for Dionysius's son,

Apollocrates, who was his wife's nephew and sister's grandson,

and make him his heir and successor. By this time, Dion and his

wife and sister began to suspect what was doing, and from all

hands information came to them of the plot.  Dion, being

troubled, it is probable, for Heraclides's murder, which was

like to be a blot and stain upon his life and actions, in

continual weariness and vexation, declared he had rather die a

thousand times, and open his breast himself to the assassin,

than live not only in fear of his enemies but suspicion of his

friends.  But Callippus, seeing the women very inquisitive to

search to the bottom of the business, took alarm, and came to

them, utterly denying it with tears in his eyes, and offering to

give them whatever assurances of his fidelity they desired.

They required that he should take the Great Oath, which was

after this manner.  The juror went into the sanctuary of Ceres

and Proserpine, where, after the performance of some ceremonies,

he was clad in the purple vestment of the goddess, and, holding

a lighted torch in his hand, took his oath.  Callippus did as

they required, and forswore the fact.  And indeed he so little

valued the goddesses, that he stayed but till the very festival

of Proserpine, by whom he had sworn, and on that very day

committed his intended murder; as truly he might well enough

disregard the day, since he must at any other time as impiously

offend her, when he who had acted as her initiating priest

should shed the blood of her worshiper.

There were a great many in the conspiracy; and as Dion was at

home with several of his friends in a room with tables for

entertainment in it, some of the conspirators beset the house

around, others secured the doors and windows.  The actual

intended murderers were some Zacynthians, who went inside in

their under-dresses without swords.  Those outside shut the

doors upon them and kept them fast.  The murderers fell on Dion,

endeavoring to stifle and crush him; then, finding they were

doing nothing, they called for a sword, but none durst open the

door.  There were a great many within with Dion, but everyone

was for securing himself, supposing that by letting him lose his

life he should save his own, and therefore no man ventured to

assist him.  When they had waited a good while, at length Lycon

the Syracusan reached a short sword in at the window to one of

the Zacynthians, and thus, like a victim at a sacrifice, this

long time in their power, and trembling for the blow, they

killed him.  His sister, and wife big with child, they hurried

to prison, who poor lady, in her unfortunate condition was there

brought to bed of a son, which, by the consent of the keepers,

they intended to bring up, the rather because Callippus began

already to be embroiled in troubles.

After the murder of Dion, he was in great glory, and had the

sole government of Syracuse in his hands; and to that effect

wrote to Athens, a place which, next the immortal gods, being

guilty of such an abominable crime, he ought to have regarded

with shame and fear.  But true it is, what is said of that city,

that the good men she breeds are the most excellent, and the bad

the most notorious; as their country also produces the most

delicious honey and the most deadly hemlock.  Callippus,

however, did not long continue to scandalize fortune and upbraid

the gods with his prosperity, as though they connived at and

bore with the wretched man, while he purchased riches and power

by heinous impieties, but he quickly received the punishment he

deserved.  For, going to take Catana, he lost Syracuse;

whereupon they report he said, he had lost a city and got a

bauble.  Then, attempting Messena, he had most of his men cut

off, and, among the rest, Dion's murderers.  When no city in

Sicily would admit him, but all hated and abhorred him, he went

into Italy and took Rhegium; and there, being in distress and

not able to maintain his soldiers, he was killed by Leptines and

Polysperchon, and, as fortune would have it with the same sword

by which Dion was murdered, which was known by the size, being

but short, as the Spartan swords, and the workmanship of it very

curious and artificial.  Thus Callippus received the reward of

his villanies.

When Aristomache and Arete were released out of prison, Hicetes,

one of Dion's friends, took them to his house, and seemed to

intend to entertain them well and like a faithful friend.

Afterwards, being persuaded by Dion's enemies, he provided a

ship and pretended to send them into Peloponnesus, but commanded

the sailors, when they came out to sea, to kill them and throw

them overboard.  Others say that they and the little boy were

thrown alive into the sea.  This man also escaped not the due

recompense of his wickedness, for he was taken by Timoleon and

put to death, and the Syracusans, to revenge Dion, slew his two

daughters; of all which I have given a more particular account

in the life of Timoleon.

MARCUS BRUTUS

Marcus Brutus was descended from that Junius Brutus to whom the

ancient Romans erected a statue of brass in the capitol among

the images of their kings with a drawn sword in his hand, in

remembrance of his courage and resolution in expelling the

Tarquins and destroying the monarchy.  But that ancient Brutus

was of a severe and inflexible nature, like steel of too hard a

temper, and having never had his character softened by study and

thought, he let himself be so far transported with his rage and

hatred against tyrants, that, for conspiring with them, he

proceeded to the execution even of his own sons.  But this

Brutus, whose life we now write, having to the goodness of his

disposition added the improvements of learning and the study of

philosophy, and having stirred up his natural parts, of

themselves grave and gentle, by applying himself to business and

public affairs, seems to have been of a temper exactly framed

for virtue; insomuch that they who were most his enemies upon

account of his conspiracy against Caesar, if in that whole

affair there was any honorable or generous part, referred it

wholly to Brutus, and laid whatever was barbarous and cruel to

the charge of Cassius, Brutus's connection and familiar friend,

but not his equal in honesty and pureness of purpose.  His

mother, Servilia, was of the family of Servilius Ahala, who,

when Spurius Maelius worked the people into a rebellion and

designed to make himself king, taking a dagger under his arm,

went forth into the marketplace, and, upon presence of having

some private business with him, came up close to him, and, as he

bent his head to hear what he had to say, struck him with his

dagger and slew him.  And thus much, as concerns his descent by

the mother's side, is confessed by all; but as for his father's

family, they who for Caesar's murder bore any hatred or ill-will

to Brutus say that he came not from that Brutus who expelled the

Tarquins, there being none of his race left after the execution

of his two sons; but that his ancestor was a plebeian, son of

one Brutus, a steward, and only rose in the latest times to

office or dignity in the commonwealth.  But Posidonius the

philosopher writes that it is true indeed what the history

relates, that two of the sons of Brutus who were of men's estate

were put to death, but that a third, yet an infant, was left

alive, from whom the family was propagated down to Marcus

Brutus; and further, that there were several famous persons of

this house in his time whose looks very much resembled the

statue of Junius Brutus.  But of this subject enough.

Cato the philosopher was brother to Servilia, the mother of

Brutus, and he it was whom of all the Romans his nephew most

admired and studied to imitate, and he afterwards married his

daughter Porcia.  Of all the sects of the Greek philosophers,

though there was none of which he had not been a hearer and in

which he had not made some proficiency, yet he chiefly esteemed

the Platonists; and, not much approving of the modern and middle

Academy, as it is called, he applied himself to the study of the

ancient.  He was all his lifetime a great admirer of Antiochus

of the city of Ascalon, and took his brother Aristus into his

own house for his friend and companion, a man for his learning

inferior indeed to many of the philosophers, but for the

evenness of his temper and steadiness of his conduct equal to

the best.  As for Empylus, of whom he himself and his friends

often make mention in their epistles, as one that lived with

Brutus, he was a rhetorician, and has left behind him a short

but well-written history of the death of Caesar, entitled Brutus.

In Latin, he had by exercise attained a sufficient skill to be

able to make public addresses and to plead a cause; but in

Greek, he must be noted for affecting the sententious and short

Laconic way of speaking in sundry passages of his epistles; as

when, in the beginning of the war, he wrote thus to the

Pergamenians: "I hear you have given Dolabella money; if

willingly, you must own you have injured me; if unwillingly,

show it by giving willingly to me."  And another time to the

Samians: "Your counsels are remiss and your performances slow:

what think ye will be the end?"  And of the Patareans thus: "The

Xanthians, suspecting my kindness, have made their country the

grave of their despair; the Patareans, trusting themselves to

me, enjoy in all points their former liberty; it is in your

power to choose the judgment of the Patareans or the fortune of

the Xanthians."  And this is the style for which some of his

letters are to be noted.

When he was but a very young man, he accompanied his uncle Cato,

to Cyprus, when he was sent there against Ptolemy.  But when

Ptolemy killed himself, Cato, being by some necessary business

detained in the isle of Rhodes, had already sent one of his

friends, named Canidius, to take into his care and keeping the

treasure of the king; but presently, not feeling sure of his

honesty, he wrote to Brutus to sail immediately for Cyprus out

of Pamphylia, where he then was staying to refresh himself,

being but just recovered of a fit of sickness.  He obeyed his

orders, but with a great deal of unwillingness, as well out of

respect to Canidius, who was thrown out of this employment by

Cato with so much disgrace, as also because he esteemed such a

commission mean, and unsuitable to him, who was in the prime of

his youth, and given to books and study.  Nevertheless, applying

himself to the business, he behaved himself so well in it that

he was highly commended by Cato, and, having turned all the

goods of Ptolemy into ready money, he sailed with the greatest

part of it in his own ship to Rome.

But upon the general separation into two factions, when, Pompey

and Caesar taking up arms against one another, the whole empire

was turned into confusion, it was commonly believed that he

would take Caesar's side; for his father in past time had been

put to death by Pompey.  But he, thinking it his duty to prefer

the interest of the public to his own private feelings, and

judging Pompey's to be the better cause, took part with him;

though formerly he used not so much as to salute or take any

notice of Pompey, if he happened to meet him, esteeming it a

pollution to have the least conversation with the murderer of

his father.  But now, looking upon him as the general of his

country, he placed himself under his command, and set sail for

Cilicia in quality of lieutenant to Sestius, who had the

government of that province.  But finding no opportunity there

of doing any great service, and hearing that Pompey and Caesar

were now near one another and preparing for the battle upon

which all depended, he came of his own accord to Macedonia to

partake in the danger.  At his coming it is said that Pompey was

so surprised and so pleased, that, rising from his chair in the

sight of all who were about him, he saluted and embraced him, as

one of the chiefest of his party.  All the time that he was in

the camp, excepting that which he spent in Pompey's company, he

employed in reading and in study, which he did not neglect even

the day before the great battle.  It was the middle of summer,

and the heat was very great, the camp having been pitched near

some marshy ground, and the people that carried Brutus's tent

were a long while before they came.  Yet though upon these

accounts he was extremely harassed and out of order, having

scarcely by the middle of the day anointed himself and eaten a

sparing meal, whilst most others were either laid to sleep or

taken up with the thoughts and apprehensions of what would be

the issue of the fight, he spent his time until the evening in

writing an epitome of Polybius.

It is said that Caesar had so great a regard for him that he

ordered his commanders by no means to kill Brutus in the battle,

but to spare him, if possible, and bring him safe to him, if he

would willingly surrender himself; but if he made any

resistance, to suffer him to escape rather than do him any

violence.  And this he is believed to have done out of a

tenderness to Servilia, the mother of Brutus; for Caesar had, it

seems, in his youth been very intimate with her, and she

passionately in love with him; and, considering that Brutus was

born about that time in which their loves were at the highest,

Caesar had a belief that he was his own child.  The story is

told, that when the great question of the conspiracy of

Catiline, which had like to have been the destruction of the

commonwealth, was debated in the senate, Cato and Caesar were

both standing up, contending together on the decision to be come

to; at which time a little note was delivered to Caesar from

without, which he took and read silently to himself.  Upon this,

Cato cried out aloud, and accused Caesar of holding

correspondence with and receiving letters from the enemies of

the commonwealth; and when many other senators exclaimed against

it, Caesar delivered the note as he had received it to Cato, who

reading it found it to be a love-letter from his own sister

Servilia, and threw it back again to Caesar with the words,

"Keep it, you drunkard," and returned to the subject of the

debate.  So public and notorious was Servilia's love to Caesar.

After the great overthrow at Pharsalia, Pompey himself having

made his escape to the sea, and Caesar's army storming the camp,

Brutus stole privately out by one of the gates leading to marshy

ground full of water and covered with reeds, and, traveling

through the night, got safe to Larissa.  From Larissa he wrote

to Caesar, who expressed a great deal of joy to hear that he was

safe, and, bidding him come, not only forgave him freely, but

honored and esteemed him among his chiefest friends.  Now when

nobody could give any certain account which way Pompey had fled,

Caesar took a little journey alone with Brutus, and tried what

was his opinion herein, and after some discussion which passed

between them, believing that Brutus's conjecture was the right

one, laying aside all other thoughts, he set out directly to

pursue him towards Egypt.  But Pompey, having reached Egypt, as

Brutus guessed his design was to do, there met his fate.

Brutus in the meantime gained Caesar's forgiveness for his

friend Cassius; and pleading also in defense of the king of the

Lybians, though he was overwhelmed with the greatness of the

crimes alleged against him, yet by his entreaties and

deprecations to Caesar in his behalf, he preserved to him a

great part of his kingdom.  It is reported that Caesar, when he

first heard Brutus speak in public, said to his friends, "I know

not what this young man intends, but, whatever he intends, he

intends vehemently."  For his natural firmness of mind, not

easily yielding, or complying in favor of everyone that

entreated his kindness, once set into action upon motives of

right reason and deliberate moral choice, whatever direction it

thus took, it was pretty sure to take effectively, and to work

in such a way as not to fail in its object.  No flattery could

ever prevail with him to listen to unjust petitions; and he held

that to be overcome by the importunities of shameless and

fawning entreaties, though some compliment it with the name of

modesty and bashfulness, was the worst disgrace a great man

could suffer.  And he used to say, that he always felt as if

they who could deny nothing could not have behaved well in the

flower of their youth.

Caesar, being about to make his expedition into Africa against

Cato and Scipio, committed to Brutus the government of Cisalpine

Gaul, to the great happiness and advantage of that province.

For while people in other provinces were in distress with the

violence and avarice of their governors, and suffered as much

oppression as if they had been slaves and captives of war,

Brutus, by his easy government, actually made them amends for

their calamities under former rulers, directing moreover all

their gratitude for his good deeds to Caesar himself; insomuch

that it was a most welcome and pleasant spectacle to Caesar,

when in his return he passed through Italy, to see the cities

that were under Brutus's command and Brutus himself increasing

his honor and joining agreeably in his progress.

Now several praetorships being vacant, it was all men's opinion,

that that of the chiefest dignity, which is called the

praetorship of the city, would be conferred either upon Brutus

or Cassius; and some say that, there having been some little

difference upon former accounts between them, this competition

set them much more at variance, though they were connected in

their families, Cassius having married Junia, the sister of

Brutus.  Others say that the contention was raised between them

by Caesar's doing, who had privately given each of them such

hopes of his favor as led them on, and provoked them at last

into this open competition and trial of their interest.  Brutus

had only the reputation of his honor and virtue to oppose to the

many and gallant actions performed by Cassius against the

Parthians.  But Caesar, having heard each side, and deliberating

about the matter among his friends, said, "Cassius has the

stronger plea, but we must let Brutus be first praetor."  So

another praetorship was given to Cassius; the gaining of which

could not so much oblige him, as he was incensed for the loss of

the other.  And in all other things Brutus was partaker of

Caesar's power as much as he desired; for he might, if he had

pleased, have been the chief of all his friends, and had

authority and command beyond them all, but Cassius and the

company he met with him drew him off from Caesar.  Indeed, he

was not yet wholly reconciled to Cassius, since that competition

which was between them; but yet he gave ear to Cassius's

friends, who were perpetually advising him not to be so blind as

to suffer himself to be softened and won upon by Caesar, but to

shun the kindness and favors of a tyrant, which they intimated

that Caesar showed him, not to express any honor to his merit or

virtue, but to unbend his strength, and undermine his vigor of

purpose.

Neither was Caesar wholly without suspicion of him nor wanted

informers that accused Brutus to him; but he feared, indeed, the

high spirit and the great character and the friends that he had,

but thought himself secure in his moral disposition.  When it

was told him that Antony and Dolabella designed some

disturbance, "It is not," said he, "the fat and the long-haired

men that I fear, but the pale and the lean," meaning Brutus and

Cassius.  And when some maligned Brutus to him, and advised him

to beware of him, taking hold of his flesh with his hand,

"What," he said, "do you think that Brutus will not wait out the

time of this little body?"  as if he thought none so fit to

succeed him in his power as Brutus.  And indeed it seems to be

without doubt that Brutus might have been the first man in the

commonwealth, if he had had patience but a little time to be

second to Caesar, and would have suffered his power to decline

after it was come to its highest pitch, and the fame of his

great actions to die away by degrees.  But Cassius, a man of a

fierce disposition, and one that out of private malice, rather

than love of the public, hated Caesar, not the tyrant,

continually fired and stirred him up.  Brutus felt the rule an

oppression, but Cassius hated the ruler; and, among other

reasons on which he grounded his quarrel against Caesar, the

loss of his lions which he had procured when he was aedile elect

was one: for Caesar, finding these in Megara, when that city was

taken by Calenus, seized them to himself.  These beasts, they

say, were a great calamity to the Megarians; for, when their

city was just taken, they broke open the lions' dens, and pulled

off their chains and let them loose, that they might run upon

the enemy that was entering the city; but the lions turned upon

them themselves, and tore to pieces a great many unarmed persons

running about, so that it was a miserable spectacle even to

their enemies to behold.

And this, some say, was the chief provocation that stirred up

Cassius to conspire against Caesar; but they are much in the

wrong.  For Cassius had from his youth a natural hatred and

rancor against the whole race of tyrants, which he showed when

he was but a boy, and went to the same school with Faustus, the

son of Sylla; for, on his boasting himself amongst the boys, and

extolling the sovereign power of his father, Cassius rose up and

struck him two or three boxes on the ear; which when the

guardians and relations of Faustus designed to inquire into and

to prosecute, Pompey forbade them, and, sending for both the

boys together, examined the matter himself.  And Cassius then is

reported to have said thus, "Come, then, Faustus, dare to speak

here those words that provoked me, that I may strike you again

as I did before."  Such was the disposition of Cassius.

But Brutus was roused up and pushed on to the undertaking by

many persuasions of his familiar friends, and letters and

invitations from unknown citizens.  For under the statue of his

ancestor Brutus, that overthrew the kingly government, they

wrote the words, "O that we had a Brutus now!"  and, "O that

Brutus were alive!"  And Brutus's own tribunal, on which he sat

as praetor, was filled each morning with writings such as these:

"You are asleep, Brutus," and, "You are not a true Brutus."  Now

the flatterers of Caesar were the occasion of all this, who,

among other invidious honors which they strove to fasten upon

Caesar, crowned his statues by night with diadems, wishing to

incite the people to salute him king instead of dictator.  But

quite the contrary came to pass, as I have more particularly

related in the life of Caesar.

When Cassius went about soliciting friends to engage in this

design against Caesar, all whom he tried readily consented, if

Brutus would be head of it; for their opinion was that the

enterprise wanted not hands or resolution, but the reputation

and authority of a man such as he was, to give as it were the

first religious sanction, and by his presence, if by nothing

else, to justify the undertaking; that without him they should

go about this action with less heart, and should lie under

greater suspicions when they had done it, for, if their cause

had been just and honorable, people would be sure that Brutus

would not have refused it.  Cassius, having considered these

things with himself, went to Brutus, and made him the first

visit after their falling out; and after the compliments of

reconciliation had passed, and former kindnesses were renewed

between them, he asked him if he designed to be present in the

senate on the Calends of March, for it was discoursed, he said,

that Caesar's friends intended then to move that he might be

made king.  When Brutus answered, that he would not be there,

"But what," says Cassius, "if they should send for us?"  "It

will be my business then," replied Brutus, "not to hold my

peace, but to stand up boldly, and die for the liberty of my

country."  To which Cassius with some emotion answered, "But

what Roman will suffer you to die?  What, do you not know

yourself, Brutus?  Or do you think that those writings that you

find upon your praetor's seat were put there by weavers and

shopkeepers, and not by the first and most powerful men of Rome?

From other praetors, indeed, they expect largesses and shows and

gladiators, but from you they claim, as an hereditary debt, the

extirpation of tyranny; they are all ready to suffer anything

on your account, if you will but show yourself such as they

think you are and expect you should be."  Which said, he fell

upon Brutus, and embraced him; and after this, they parted each

to try their several friends.

Among the friends of Pompey there was one Caius Ligarius, whom

Caesar had pardoned, though accused for having been in arms

against him.  This man, not feeling so thankful for having been

forgiven as he felt oppressed by that power which made him need

a pardon, hated Caesar, and was one of Brutus's most intimate

friends.  Him Brutus visited, and, finding him sick, "O

Ligarius," says he, "what a time have you found out to be sick

in!"  At which words Ligarius, raising himself and leaning on

his elbow, took Brutus by the hand, and said, "But, O Brutus, if

you are on any design worthy of yourself, I am well."

From this time, they tried the inclinations of all their

acquaintance that they durst trust, and communicated the secret

to them, and took into the design not only their familiar

friends, but as many as they believed bold and brave and

despisers of death.  For which reason they concealed the plot

from Cicero, though he was very much trusted and as well beloved

by them all, lest, to his own disposition, which was naturally

timorous, adding now the wariness and caution of old age, by his

weighing, as he would do, every particular, that he might not

make one step without the greatest security, he should blunt the

edge of their forwardness and resolution in a business which

required all the dispatch imaginable.  As indeed there were also

two others that were companions of Brutus, Statilius the

Epicurean, and Favonius the admirer of Cato, whom he left out

for this reason: as he was conversing one day with them, trying

them at a distance, and proposing some such question to be

disputed of as among philosophers, to see what opinion they were

of, Favonius declared his judgment to be that a civil war was

worse than the most illegal monarchy; and Statilius held, that,

to bring himself into troubles and danger upon the account of

evil or foolish men, did not become a man that had any wisdom or

discretion.  But Labeo, who was present, contradicted them both;

and Brutus, as if it had been an intricate dispute, and

difficult to be decided, held his peace for that time, but

afterwards discovered the whole design to Labeo, who readily

undertook it.  The next thing that was thought convenient, was to

gain the other Brutus, surnamed Albinus, a man of himself of no

great bravery or courage, but considerable for the number of

gladiators that he was maintaining for a public show, and the

great confidence that Caesar put in him.  When Cassius and Labeo

spoke with him concerning the matter, he gave them no answer;

but, seeking an interview with Brutus himself alone, and finding

that he was their captain, he readily consented to partake in

the action.  And among the others, also, the most and best were

gained by the name of Brutus.  And, though they neither gave nor

took any oath of secrecy, nor used any other sacred rite to

assure their fidelity to each other, yet all kept their design

so close, were so wary, and held it so silently among

themselves, that, though by prophecies and apparitions and signs

in the sacrifices the gods gave warning of it, yet could it not

be believed.

Now Brutus, feeling that the noblest spirits of Rome for virtue,

birth, or courage were depending upon him, and surveying with

himself all the circumstances of the dangers they were to

encounter, strove indeed as much as possible, when abroad, to

keep his uneasiness of mind to himself, and to compose his

thoughts; but at home, and especially at night, he was not the

same man, but sometimes against his will his working care would

make him start out of his sleep, and other times he was taken up

with further reflection and consideration of his difficulties,

so that his wife that lay with him could not choose but take

notice that he was full of unusual trouble, and had in agitation

some dangerous and perplexing question.  Porcia, as was said

before, was the daughter of Cato, and Brutus, her cousin-german,

had married her very young, though not a maid, but after the

death of her former husband, by whom she had one son, that was

named Bibulus; and there is a little book, called Memoirs of

Brutus, written by him, yet extant.  This Porcia, being addicted

to philosophy, a great lover of her husband, and full of an

understanding courage, resolved not to inquire into Brutus's

secrets before she had made this trial of herself.  She turned

all her attendants out of her chamber, and, taking a little

knife, such as they use to cut nails with, she gave herself a

deep gash in the thigh; upon which followed a great flow of

blood, and, soon after, violent pains and a shivering fever,

occasioned by the wound.  Now when Brutus was extremely anxious

and afflicted for her, she, in the height of all her pain, spoke

thus to him: "I, Brutus, being the daughter of Cato, was given

to you in marriage, not like a concubine, to partake only in the

common intercourse of bed and board, but to bear a part in all

your good and all your evil fortunes; and for your part, as

regards your care for me, I find no reason to complain; but from

me, what evidence of my love, what satisfaction can you receive,

if I may not share with you in bearing your hidden griefs, nor

be admitted to any of your counsels that require secrecy and

trust?  I know very well that women seem to be of too weak a

nature to be trusted with secrets; but certainly, Brutus, a

virtuous birth and education, and the company of the good and

honorable, are of some force to the forming our manners; and I

can boast that I am the daughter of Cato and the wife of Brutus,

in which two titles though before I put less confidence, yet now

I have tried myself, and find that I can bid defiance to pain."

Which words having spoken, she showed him her wound, and related

to him the trial that she had made of her constancy; at which he

being astonished, lifted up his hands to heaven, and begged the

assistance of the gods in his enterprise, that he might show

himself a husband worthy of such a wife as Porcia.  So then he

comforted his wife.

But a meeting of the senate being appointed, at which it was

believed that Caesar would be present, they agreed to make use

of that opportunity: for then they might appear all together

without suspicion; and, besides, they hoped that all the noblest

and leading men of the commonwealth, being then assembled, as

soon as the great deed was done, would immediately stand

forward, and assert the common liberty.  The very place, too,

where the senate was to meet, seemed to be by divine appointment

favorable to their purpose.  It was a portico, one of those

joining the theater, with a large recess, in which there stood

a statue of Pompey, erected to him by the commonwealth, when he

adorned that part of the city with the porticos and the theater.

To this place it was that the senate was summoned for the middle

of March (the Ides of March is the Roman name for the day); as

if some more than human power were leading the man thither,

there to meet his punishment for the death of Pompey.

As soon as it was day, Brutus, taking with him a dagger, which

none but his wife knew of, went out.  The rest met together at

Cassius's house, and brought forth his son, that was that day to

put on the manly gown, as it is called, into the forum; and from

thence, going all to Pompey's porch, stayed there, expecting

Caesar to come without delay to the senate.  Here it was chiefly

that anyone who had known what they had purposed, would have

admired the unconcerned temper and the steady resolution of

these men in their most dangerous undertaking; for many of them,

being praetors, and called upon by their office to judge and

determine causes, did not only hear calmly all that made

application to them and pleaded against each other before them,

as if they were free from all other thoughts, but decided causes

with as much accuracy and judgment as they had heard them with

attention and patience.  And when one person refused to stand to

the award of Brutus, and with great clamor and many attestations

appealed to Caesar, Brutus, looking round about him upon those

that were present, said, "Caesar does not hinder me, nor will he

hinder me, from doing according to the laws."

Yet there were many unusual accidents that disturbed them and by

mere chance were thrown in their way.  The first and chiefest

was the long stay of Caesar, though the day was far spent, and

his being detained at home by his wife, and forbidden by the

soothsayers to go forth, upon some defect that appeared in his

sacrifice.  Another was this: There came a man up to Casca, one

of the company, and, taking him by the hand, "You concealed,"

said he, "the secret from us, but Brutus has told me all."  At

which words when Casca was surprised, the other said laughing,

"How come you to be so rich of a sudden, that you should stand

to be chosen aedile?"  So near was Casca to let out the secret,

upon the mere ambiguity of the other's expression.  Then

Popilius Laenas, a senator, having saluted Brutus and Cassius

more earnestly than usual, whispered them softly in the ear and

said, "My wishes are with you, that you may accomplish what you

design, and I advise you to make no delay, for the thing is now

no secret."  This said, he departed, and left them in great

suspicion that the design had taken wind.  In the meanwhile,

there came one in all haste from Brutus's house, and brought him

news that his wife was dying.  For Porcia, being extremely

disturbed with expectation of the event, and not able to bear

the greatness of her anxiety, could scarce keep herself within

doors; and at every little noise or voice she heard, starting up

suddenly, like those possessed with the bacchic frenzy, she

asked everyone that came in from the forum what Brutus was

doing, and sent one messenger after another to inquire.  At

last, after long expectation, the strength of her body could

hold out no longer; her mind was overcome with her doubts and

fears, and she lost the control of herself, and began to faint

away.  She had not time to betake herself to her chamber, but,

sitting as she was amongst her women, a sudden swoon and a great

stupor seized her, and her color changed, and her speech was

quite lost.  At this sight, her women made a loud cry, and many

of the neighbors running to Brutus's door to know what was the

matter, the report was soon spread abroad that Porcia was dead;

though with her women's help she recovered in a little while,

and came to herself again.  When Brutus received this news, he

was extremely troubled, nor without reason, yet was not so

carried away by his private grief as to quit his public purpose.

For now news was brought that Caesar was coming, carried in a

litter.  For, being discouraged by the ill omens that attended

his sacrifice, he had determined to undertake no affairs of any

great importance that day, but to defer them till another time,

excusing himself that he was sick.  As soon as he came out of

his litter, Popilius Laenas, he who but a little before had

wished Brutus good success in his undertaking, coming up to him,

conversed a great while with him, Caesar standing still all the

while, and seeming to be very attentive.  The conspirators, (to

give them this name,) not being able to hear what he said, but

guessing by what themselves were conscious of that this

conference was the discovery of their treason, were again

disheartened, and, looking upon one another, agreed from each

other's countenances that they should not stay to be taken, but

should all kill themselves.  And now when Cassius and some

others were laying hands upon their daggers under their robes,

and were drawing them out, Brutus, viewing narrowly the looks

and gesture of Laenas, and finding that he was earnestly

petitioning and not accusing, said nothing, because there were

many strangers to the conspiracy mingled amongst them, but by a

cheerful countenance encouraged Cassius.  And after a little

while, Laenas, having kissed Caesar's hand, went away, showing

plainly that all his discourse was about some particular

business relating to himself.

Now when the senate was gone in before to the chamber where they

were to sit, the rest of the company placed themselves close

about Caesar's chair, as if they had some suit to make to him,

and Cassius, turning his face to Pompey's statue, is said to

have invoked it, as if it had been sensible of his prayers.

Trebonius, in the meanwhile, engaged Antony's attention at the

door, and kept him in talk outside.  When Caesar entered, the

whole senate rose up to him.  As soon as he was set down, the

men all crowded round about him, and set Tillius Cimber, one of

their own number, to intercede in behalf of his brother, that

was banished; they all joined their prayers with his, and took

Caesar by the hand, and kissed his head and his breast.  But he

putting aside at first their supplications, and afterwards, when

he saw they would not desist, violently rising up, Tillius with

both hands caught hold of his robe and pulled it off from his

shoulders, and Casca, that stood behind him, drawing his dagger,

gave him the first, but a slight wound, about the shoulder.

Caesar snatching hold of the handle of the dagger, and crying

out aloud in Latin, "Villain Casca, what do you?"  he, calling

in Greek to his brother, bade him come and help.  And by this

time, finding himself struck by a great many hands, and looking

round about him to see if he could force his way out, when he

saw Brutus with his dagger drawn against him, he let go Casca's

hand, that he had hold of, and, covering his head with his robe,

gave up his body to their blows.  And they so eagerly pressed

towards the body, and so many daggers were hacking together,

that they cut one another; Brutus, particularly, received a

wound in his hand, and all of them were besmeared with the

blood.

Caesar being thus slain, Brutus, stepping forth into the midst,

intended to have made a speech, and called back and encouraged

the senators to stay; but they all affrighted ran away in great

disorder, and there was a great confusion and press at the door,

though none pursued or followed.  For they had come to an

express resolution to kill nobody besides Caesar, but to call

and invite all the rest to liberty.  It was indeed the opinion

of all the others, when they consulted about the execution of

their design, that it was necessary to cut off Antony with

Caesar, looking upon him as an insolent man, an affecter of

monarchy, and one that, by his familiar intercourse, had gained

a powerful interest with the soldiers.  And this they urged the

rather, because at that time to the natural loftiness and

ambition of his temper there was added the dignity of being

consul and colleague to Caesar.  But Brutus opposed this

counsel, insisting first upon the injustice of it, and

afterwards giving them hopes that a change might be worked in

Antony.  For he did not despair but that so highly gifted and

honorable a man, and such a lover of glory as Antony, stirred up

with emulation of their great attempt, might, if Caesar were

once removed, lay hold of the occasion to be joint restorer with

them of the liberty of his country.  Thus did Brutus save

Antony's life.  But he, in the general consternation, put

himself into a plebeian habit, and fled.  But Brutus and his

party marched up to the capitol, in their way showing their

hands all bloody, and their naked swords, and proclaiming

liberty to the people.  At first all places were filled with

cries and shouts; and the wild running to and fro, occasioned by

the sudden surprise and passion that everyone was in, increased

the tumult in the city.  But no other bloodshed following, and

no plundering of the goods in the streets, the senators and many

of the people took courage and went up to the men in the

capitol; and, a multitude being gathered together, Brutus made

an oration to them, very popular, and proper for the state that

affairs were then in.  Therefore, when they applauded his

speech, and cried out to him to come down, they all took

confidence and descended into the forum; the rest promiscuously

mingled with one another, but many of the most eminent persons,

attending Brutus, conducted him in the midst of them with great

honor from the capitol, and placed him in the rostra.  At the

sight of Brutus, the crowd, though consisting of a confused

mixture and all disposed to make a tumult, were struck with

reverence, and expected what he would say with order and with

silence, and, when he began to speak, heard him with quiet and

attention.  But that all were not pleased with this action they

plainly showed when, Cinna beginning to speak and accuse Caesar,

they broke out into a sudden rage, and railed at him in such

language, that the whole party thought fit again to withdraw to

the capitol.  And there Brutus, expecting to be besieged,

dismissed the most eminent of those that had accompanied them

thither, not thinking it just that they who were not partakers

of the fact should share in the danger.

But the next day, the senate being assembled in the temple of

the Earth, and Antony and Plancus and Cicero having made

orations recommending concord in general and an act of oblivion,

it was decreed, that the men should not only be put out of all

fear or danger, but that the consuls should see what honors and

dignities were proper to be conferred upon them.  After which

done, the senate broke up; and, Antony having sent his son as an

hostage to the capitol, Brutus and his company came down, and

mutual salutes and invitations passed amongst them, the whole of

them being gathered together.  Antony invited and entertained

Cassius, Lepidus did the same to Brutus, and the rest were

invited and entertained by others, as each of them had

acquaintance or friends.  And as soon as it was day, the senate

met again and voted thanks to Antony for having stifled the

beginning of a civil war; afterwards Brutus and his associates

that were present received encomiums, and had provinces assigned

and distributed among them.  Crete was allotted to Brutus,

Africa to Cassius, Asia to Trebonius, Bithynia to Cimber, and to

the other Brutus Gaul about the Po.

After these things, they began to consider of Caesar's will, and

the ordering of his funeral.  Antony desired that the will might

be read, and that the body should not have a private or

dishonorable interment, lest that should further exasperate the

people.  This Cassius violently opposed, but Brutus yielded to

it, and gave leave; in which he seems to have a second time

committed a fault.  For as before in sparing the life of Antony

he could not be without some blame from his party, as thereby

setting up against the conspiracy a dangerous and difficult

enemy, so now, in suffering him to have the ordering of the

funeral, he fell into a total and irrecoverable error.  For

first, it appearing by the will that Caesar had bequeathed to

the Roman people seventy-five drachmas a man, and given to the

public his gardens beyond Tiber (where now the temple of Fortune

stands), the whole city was fired with a wonderful affection for

him, and a passionate sense of the loss of him.  And when the

body was brought forth into the forum, Antony, as the custom

was, making a funeral oration in the praise of Caesar, and

finding the multitude moved with his speech, passing into the

pathetic tone, unfolded the bloody garment of Caesar, showed

them in how many places it was pierced, and the number of his

wounds.  Now there was nothing to be seen but confusion; some

cried out to kill the murderers, others (as was formerly done

when Clodius led the people) tore away the benches and tables

out of the shops round about, and, heaping them all together,

built a great funeral pile, and, having put the body of Caesar

upon it, set it on fire, the spot where this was done being

moreover surrounded with a great many temples and other

consecrated places, so that they seemed to burn the body in a

kind of sacred solemnity.  As soon as the fire flamed out, the

multitude, flocking in some from one part and some from another,

snatched the brands that were half burnt out of the pile, and

ran about the city to fire the houses of the murderers of

Caesar.  But they, having beforehand well fortified themselves,

repelled this danger.

There was however a kind of poet, one Cinna, not at all

concerned in the guilt of the conspiracy, but on the contrary

one of Caesar's friends.  This man dreamed that he was invited

to supper by Caesar, and that he declined to go, but that Caesar

entreated and pressed him to it very earnestly; and at last,

taking him by the hand, led him into a very deep and dark place,

whither he was forced against his will to follow in great

consternation and amazement.  After this vision, he had a fever

the most part of the night; nevertheless in the morning, hearing

that the body of Caesar was to be carried forth to be interred,

he was ashamed not to be present at the solemnity, and came

abroad and joined the people, when they were already infuriated

by the speech of Antony.  And perceiving him, and taking him not

for that Cinna who indeed he was, but for him that a little

before in a speech to the people had reproached and inveighed

against Caesar, they fell upon him and tore him to pieces.

This action chiefly, and the alteration that Antony had wrought,

so alarmed Brutus and his party, that for their safety they

retired from the city.  The first stay they made was at Antium,

with a design to return again as soon as the fury of the people

had spent itself and was abated, which they expected would soon

and easily come to pass in an unsettled multitude, apt to be

carried away with any sudden and impetuous passion, especially

since they had the senate favorable to them; which, though it

took no notice of those that had torn Cinna to pieces, yet made

a strict search and apprehended in order to punishment those

that had assaulted the houses of the friends of Brutus and

Cassius.  By this time, also, the people began to be

dissatisfied with Antony, who they perceived was setting up a

kind of monarchy for himself; they longed for the return of

Brutus, whose presence they expected and hoped for at the games

and spectacles which he, as praetor, was to exhibit to the

public.  But he, having intelligence that many of the old

soldiers that had borne arms under Caesar, by whom they had had

lands and cities given them, lay in wait for him, and by small

parties at a time had stolen into the city, would not venture to

come himself; however, in his absence there were most

magnificent and costly shows exhibited to the people; for,

having bought up a great number of all sorts of wild beasts, he

gave order that not any of them should be returned or saved, but

that all should be spent freely at the public spectacles.  He

himself made a journey to Naples to procure a considerable

number of players, and hearing of one Canutius, that was very

much praised for his acting upon the stage, he wrote to his

friends to use all their entreaties to bring him to Rome (for,

being a Grecian, he could not be compelled); he wrote also to

Cicero, begging him by no means to omit being present at the

shows.

This was the posture of affairs when another sudden alteration

was made upon the young Caesar's coming to Rome.  He was son to

the niece of Caesar, who adopted him, and left him his heir by

his will.  At the time when Caesar was killed, he was following

his studies at Apollonia, where he was expecting also to meet

Caesar on his way to the expedition which he had determined on

against the Parthians; but, hearing of his death, he immediately

came to Rome, and, to ingratiate himself with the people, taking

upon himself the name of Caesar, and punctually distributing

among the citizens the money that was left them by the will, he

soon got the better of Antony; and by money and largesses, which

he liberally dispersed amongst the soldiers, he gathered

together and brought over to his party a great number of those

that had served under Caesar.  Cicero himself, out of the hatred

which he bore to Antony, sided with young Caesar; which Brutus

took so ill that he treated with him very sharply in his

letters, telling him, that he perceived Cicero could well enough

endure a tyrant, but was afraid that he who hated him should be

the man; that in writing and speaking so well of Caesar, he

showed that his aim was to have an easy slavery.  "But our

forefathers," said Brutus, "could not brook even gentle

masters."  Further he added, that for his own part he had not as

yet fully resolved whether he should make war or peace; but that

as to one point he was fixed and settled, which was, never to be

a slave; that he wondered Cicero should fear the dangers of a

civil war, and not be much more afraid of a dishonorable and

infamous peace; that the very reward that was to be given him

for subverting Antony's tyranny was the privilege of

establishing Caesar as tyrant in his place.  This is the tone of

Brutus's first letters to Cicero.

The city being now divided into two factions, some betaking

themselves to Caesar and others to Antony, the soldiers selling

themselves, as it were, by public outcry, and going over to him

that would give them most, Brutus began to despair of any good

event of such proceedings, and, resolving to leave Italy, passed

by land through Lucania and came to Elea by the seaside.  From

hence it was thought convenient that Porcia should return to

Rome.  She was overcome with grief to part from Brutus, but

strove as much as was possible to conceal it; but, in spite of

all her constancy, a picture which she found there accidentally

betrayed it.  It was a Greek subject, Hector parting from

Andromache when he went to engage the Greeks, giving his young

son Astyanax into her arms, and she fixing her eyes upon him.

When she looked at this piece, the resemblance it bore to her

own condition made her burst into tears, and several times a day

she went to see the picture, and wept before it.  Upon this

occasion, when Acilius, one of Brutus's friends, repeated out of

Homer the verses, where Andromache speaks to Hector: —

But Hector, you

To me are father and are mother too,

My brother, and my loving husband true.

Brutus, smiling, replied, "But I must not answer Porcia, as

Hector did Andromache,

'Mind you your loom, and to your maids give law.'

For though the natural weakness of her body hinders her from

doing what only the strength of men can perform, yet she has a

mind as valiant and as active for the good of her country as the

best of us."  This narrative is in the memoirs of Brutus written

by Bibulus, Porcia's son.

Brutus took ship from hence, and sailed to Athens where he was

received by the people with great demonstrations of kindness,

expressed in their acclamations and the honors that were decreed

him.  He lived there with a private friend, and was a constant

auditor of Theomnestus the Academic and Cratippus the

Peripatetic, with whom he so engaged in philosophical pursuits,

that he seemed to have laid aside all thoughts of public

business, and to be wholly at leisure for study.  But all this

while, being unsuspected, he was secretly making preparation for

war; in order to which he sent Herostratus into Macedonia to

secure the commanders there to his side, and he himself won over

and kept at his disposal all the young Romans that were then

students at Athens.  Of this number was Cicero's son, whom he

everywhere highly extols, and says that whether sleeping or

waking he could not choose but admire a young man of so great a

spirit and such a hater of tyranny.

At length he began to act openly, and to appear in public

business, and, being informed that there were several Roman

ships full of treasure that in their course from Asia were to

come that way, and that they were commanded by one of his

friends, he went to meet him about Carystus.  Finding him there,

and having persuaded him to deliver up the ships, he made a more

than usually splendid entertainment, for it happened also to be

his birthday.  Now when they came to drink, and were filling

their cups with hopes for victory to Brutus and liberty to Rome,

Brutus, to animate them the more, called for a larger bowl, and

holding it in his hand, on a sudden upon no occasion or

forethought pronounced aloud this verse: —

But fate my death and Leto's son have wrought.

And some writers add that in the last battle which he fought at

Philippi the word that he gave to his soldiers was Apollo, and

from thence conclude that this sudden unaccountable exclamation

of his was a presage of the overthrow that he suffered there.

Antistius, the commander of these ships, at his parting gave him

fifty thousand myriads of the money that he was conveying to

Italy; and all the soldiers yet remaining of Pompey's army, who

after their general's defeat wandered about Thessaly, readily

and joyfully flocked together to join him.  Besides this, he

took from Cinna five hundred horse that he was carrying to

Dolabella into Asia.  After that, he sailed to Demetrias, and

there seized a great quantity of arms, that had been provided by

the command of the deceased Caesar for the Parthian war, and

were now to be sent to Antony.  Then Macedonia was put into his

hands and delivered up by Hortensius the praetor, and all the

kings and potentates round about came and offered their

services.  So when news was brought that Caius, the brother of

Antony, having passed over from Italy, was marching on directly

to join the forces that Vatinius commanded in Dyrrhachium and

Apollonia, Brutus resolved to anticipate him, and to seize them

first, and in all haste moved forwards with those that he had

about him.  His march was very difficult, through rugged places

and in a great snow, but so swift that he left those that were

to bring his provisions for the morning meal a great way behind.

And now, being very near to Dyrrhachium, with fatigue and cold

he fell into the distemper called Bulimia.  This is a disease

that seizes both men and cattle after much labor, and especially

in a great snow; whether it is caused by the natural heat, when

the body is seized with cold, being forced all inwards, and

consuming at once all the nourishment laid in, or whether the

sharp and subtle vapor which comes from the snow as it

dissolves, cuts the body, as it were, and destroys the heat

which issues through the pores; for the sweatings seem to arise

from the heat meeting with the cold, and being quenched by it on

the surface of the body.  But this I have in another place

discussed more at large.

Brutus growing very faint, and there being none in the whole

army that had anything for him to eat, his servants were forced

to have recourse to the enemy, and, going as far as to the gates

of the city, begged bread of the sentinels that were upon duty.

As soon as they heard of the condition of Brutus, they came

themselves, and brought both meat and drink along with them; in

return for which, Brutus, when he took the city, showed the

greatest kindness, not to them only, but to all the inhabitants,

for their sakes.  Caius Antonius, in the meantime, coming to

Apollonia, summoned all the soldiers that were near that city to

join him there; but finding that they nevertheless went all to

Brutus, and suspecting that even those of Apollonia were

inclined to the same party, he quitted that city, and came to

Buthrotum, having first lost three cohorts of his men, that in

their march thither were cut to pieces by Brutus.  After this,

attempting to make himself master of some strong places about

Byllis which the enemy had first seized, he was overcome in a

set battle by young Cicero, to whom Brutus gave the command, and

whose conduct he made use of often and with much success.  Caius

himself was surprised in a marshy place, at a distance from his

supports; and Brutus, having him in his power, would not suffer

his soldiers to attack, but maneuvering about the enemy with his

horse, gave command that none of them should be killed, for that

in a little time they would all be of his side; which

accordingly came to pass, for they surrendered both themselves

and their general.  So that Brutus had by this time a very great

and considerable army.  He showed all marks of honor and esteem

to Caius for a long time, and left him the use of the ensigns of

his office, though, as some report, he had several letters from

Rome, and particularly from Cicero, advising him to put him to

death.  But at last, perceiving that he began to corrupt his

officers, and was trying to raise a mutiny amongst the soldiers,

he put him aboard a ship and kept him close prisoner.  In the

meantime the soldiers that had been corrupted by Caius retired

to Apollonia, and sent word to Brutus, desiring him to come to

them thither.  He answered that this was not the custom of the

Romans, but that it became those who had offended to come

themselves to their general and beg forgiveness of their

offences; which they did, and accordingly received their pardon.

As he was preparing to pass into Asia, tidings reached him of

the alteration that had happened at Rome; where the young

Caesar, assisted by the senate, in opposition to Antony, and

having driven his competitor out of Italy, had begun himself to

be very formidable, suing for the consulship contrary to law,

and maintaining large bodies of troops of which the commonwealth

had no manner of need.  And then, perceiving that the senate,

dissatisfied with his proceedings, began to cast their eyes

abroad upon Brutus, and decreed and confirmed the government of

several provinces to him, he had taken the alarm.  Therefore

dispatching messengers to Antony, he desired that there might be

a reconciliation, and a friendship between them.  Then, drawing

all his forces about the city, he made himself be chosen consul,

though he was but a boy, being scarce twenty years old, as he

himself writes in his memoirs.  At his first entry upon the

consulship he immediately ordered a judicial process to be

issued out against Brutus and his accomplices for having

murdered a principal man of the city, holding the highest

magistracies of Rome, without being heard or condemned; and

appointed Lucius Cornificius to accuse Brutus, and Marcus

Agrippa to accuse Cassius.  None appearing to the accusation,

the judges were forced to pass sentence and condemn them both.

It is reported, that when the crier from the tribunal, as the

custom was, with a loud voice cited Brutus to appear, the people

groaned audibly, and the noble citizens hung down their heads

for grief.  Publius Silicius was seen to burst out into tears,

which was the cause that not long after he was put down in the

list of those that were proscribed.  After this, the three men,

Caesar, Antony, and Lepidus, being perfectly reconciled, shared

the provinces among themselves, and made up the catalogue of

proscription, wherein were set those that were designed for

slaughter, amounting to two hundred men, in which number Cicero

was slain.

This news being brought to Brutus in Macedonia, he was under a

compulsion, and sent orders to Hortensius that he should kill

Caius Antonius in revenge of the death of Cicero his friend, and

Brutus his kinsman, who also was proscribed and slain.  Upon

this account it was that Antony, having afterwards taken

Hortensius in the battle of Philippi, slew him upon his

brother's tomb.  But Brutus expresses himself as more ashamed

for the cause of Cicero's death than grieved for the misfortune

of it, and says he cannot help accusing his friends at Rome,

that they were slaves more through their own doing than that of

those who now were their tyrants; they could be present and see

and yet suffer those things which even to hear related ought to

them to have been insufferable.

Having made his army, that was already very considerable, pass

into Asia, he ordered a fleet to be prepared in Bithynia and

about Cyzicus.  But going himself through the country by land,

he made it his business to settle and confirm all the cities,

and gave audience to the princes of the parts through which he

passed.  And he sent orders into Syria to Cassius to come to

him, and leave his intended journey into Egypt; letting him

understand, that it was not to gain an empire for themselves,

but to free their country, that they went thus wandering about

and had got an army together whose business it was to destroy

the tyrants; that therefore, if they remembered and resolved to

persevere in their first purpose, they ought not to be too far

from Italy, but make what haste they could thither, and endeavor

to relieve their fellow-citizens from oppression.

Cassius obeyed his summons, and returned, and Brutus went to

meet him; and at Smyrna they met, which was the first time they

had seen one another since they parted at the Piraeus in Athens,

one for Syria, and the other for Macedonia.  They were both

extremely joyful and had great confidence of their success at

the sight of the forces that each of them had got together,

since they who had fled from Italy, like the most despicable

exiles, without money, without arms, without a ship or a soldier

or a city to rely on, in a little time after had met together so

well furnished with shipping and money, and an army both of

horse and foot, that they were in a condition to contend for the

empire of Rome.

Cassius was desirous to show no less respect and honor to Brutus

than Brutus did to him; but Brutus was still beforehand with

him, coming for the most part to him, both because he was the

elder man, and of a weaker constitution than himself.  Men

generally reckoned Cassius a very expert soldier, but of a harsh

and angry nature, and one that desired to command rather by fear

than love; though, on the other side, among his familiar

acquaintance he would easily give way to jesting, and play the

buffoon.  But Brutus, for his virtue, was esteemed by the

people, beloved by his friends, admired by the best men, and

hated not by his enemies themselves.  For he was a man of a

singularly gentle nature, of a great spirit, insensible of the

passions of anger or pleasure or covetousness; steady and

inflexible to maintain his purpose for what he thought right and

honest.  And that which gained him the greatest affection and

reputation was the entire faith in his intentions.  For it had

not ever been supposed that Pompey the Great himself, if he had

overcome Caesar, would have submitted his power to the laws,

instead of taking the management of the state upon himself,

soothing the people with the specious name of consul or

dictator, or some other milder title than king.  And they were

well persuaded that Cassius, being a man governed by anger and

passion and carried often, for his interest's sake, beyond the

bounce of justice, endured all these hardships of war and travel

and danger most assuredly to obtain dominion to himself, and not

liberty to the people.  And as for the former disturbers of the

peace of Rome, whether a Cinna, a Marius, or a Carbo, it is

manifest that they, having set their country as a stake for him

that should win, did almost own in express terms that they

fought for empire.  But even the enemies of Brutus did not, they

tell us, lay this accusation to his charge; nay, many heard

Antony himself say that Brutus was the only man that conspired

against Caesar out of a sense of the glory and the apparent

justice of the action, but that all the rest rose up against the

man himself, from private envy and malice of their own.  And it

is plain by what he writes himself, that Brutus did not so

much rely upon his forces, as upon his own virtue.  For thus he

speaks in a letter to Atticus, shortly before he was to engage

with the enemy: that his affairs were in the best state of

fortune that he could wish; for that either he should overcome,

and restore liberty to the people of Rome, or die, and be

himself out of the reach of slavery; that other things being

certain and beyond all hazard, one thing was yet in doubt,

whether they should live or die free men.  He adds further, that

Mark Antony had received a just punishment for his folly, who,

when he might have been numbered with Brutus and Cassius and

Cato, would join himself to Octavius; that though they should

not now be both overcome, they soon would fight between them

selves.  And in this he seems to have been no ill prophet.

Now when they were at Smyrna, Brutus desired of Cassius that he

might have part of the great treasure that he had heaped up,

because all his own was expended in furnishing out such a fleet

of ships as was sufficient to keep the whole interior sea in

their power.  But Cassius's friends dissuaded him from this;

"for," said they, "it is not just that the money which you with

so much parsimony keep and with so much envy have got, should be

given to him to be disposed of in making himself popular, and

gaining the favor of the soldiers."  Notwithstanding this,

Cassius gave him a third part of all that he had; and then they

parted each to their several commands.  Cassius, having taken

Rhodes, behaved himself there with no clemency; though at his

first entry, when some had called him lord and king, he

answered, that he was neither king nor lord, but the destroyer

and punisher of a king and lord.  Brutus, on the other part,

sent to the Lycians to demand from them a supply of money and

men; but Naucrates, their popular leader, persuaded the cities

to resist, and they occupied several little mountains and hills,

with a design to hinder Brutus's passage.  Brutus at first sent

out a party of horse, which, surprising them as they were

eating, killed six hundred of them; and afterwards, having taken

all their small towns and villages round about, he set all his

prisoners free without ransom, hoping to win the whole nation by

good-will.  But they continued obstinate, taking in anger what

they had suffered, and despising his goodness and humanity;

until, having forced the most warlike of them into the city of

Xanthus, he besieged them there.  They endeavored to make their

escape by swimming and diving through the river that flows by

the town, but were taken by nets let down for that purpose in

the channel, which had little bells at the top, which gave

present notice of any that were taken in them.  After that, they

made a sally in the night, and seizing several of the battering

engines, set them on fire; but being perceived by the Romans,

were beaten back to their walls, and, there being a strong wind,

it carried the flames to the battlements of the city with such

fierceness, that several of the adjoining houses took fire.

Brutus, fearing lest the whole city should be destroyed,

commanded his own soldiers to assist, and quench the fire.

But the Lycians were on a sudden possessed with a strange and

incredible desperation; such a frenzy as cannot be better

expressed than by calling it a violent appetite to die, for both

women and children, the bondmen and the free, those of all ages

and of all conditions strove to force away the soldiers that

came in to their assistance, from the walls; and themselves

gathering together reeds and wood, and whatever combustible

matter they found, spread the fire over the whole city, feeding

it with whatever fuel they could, and by all possible means

exciting its fury, so that the flame, having dispersed itself

and encircled the whole city, blazed out in so terrible a

manner, that Brutus, being extremely afflicted at their

calamity, got on horseback and rode round the walls, earnestly

desirous to preserve the city, and, stretching forth his hands

to the Xanthians, begged of them that they would spare

themselves and save their town.  Yet none regarded his

entreaties, but by all manner of ways strove to destroy

themselves; not only men and women, but even boys and little

children, with a hideous outcry, leaped, some into the fire,

others from the walls, others fell upon their parents' swords,

baring their throats and desiring to be struck.  After the

destruction of the city, there was found a woman who had hanged

herself with her young child hanging from her neck, and the

torch in her hand, with which she had fired her own house.  It

was so tragical a sight, that Brutus could not endure to see it,

but wept at the very relation of it, and proclaimed a reward to

any soldier that could save a Xanthian.  And it is said that one

hundred and fifty only were found, to have their lives saved

against their wills.  Thus the Xanthians, after a long space of

years, the fated period of their destruction having, as it were,

run its course, repeated by their desperate deed the former

calamity of their forefathers, who after the very same manner in

the Persian war had fired their city and destroyed themselves.

Brutus, after this, finding the Patareans resolved to make

resistance and hold out their city against him, was very

unwilling to besiege it, and was in great perplexity lest the

same frenzy might seize them too.  But having in his power some

of their women, who were his prisoners, he dismissed them all

without any ransom; who, returning and giving an account to

their husbands and fathers, who were of the greatest rank, what

an excellent man Brutus was how temperate and how just,

persuaded them to yield themselves and put their city into his

hands.  From this time all the cities round about came into his

power, submitting themselves to him, and found him good and

merciful even beyond their hopes.  For though Cassius at the

same time had compelled the Rhodians to bring in all the silver

and gold that each of them privately was possessed of, by which

he raised a sum of eight thousand talents, and besides this had

condemned the public to pay the sum of five hundred talents

more, Brutus, not having taken above a hundred and fifty talents

from the Lycians, and having done them no other manner of

injury, parted from thence with his army to go into Ionia.

Through the whole course of this expedition, Brutus did many

memorable acts of justice in dispensing rewards and punishments

to such as had deserved either; but one in particular I will

relate, because he himself, and all the noblest Romans, were

gratified with it above all the rest.  When Pompey the Great,

being overthrown from his great power by Caesar, had fled to

Egypt, and landed near Pelusium, the protectors of the young

king consulted among themselves what was fit to be done on that

occasion, nor could they all agree in the same opinion, some

being for receiving him, others for driving him from Egypt.  But

Theodotus, a Chian by birth, and then attending upon the king as

a paid teacher of rhetoric, and for want of better men admitted

into the council, undertook to prove to them, that both parties

were in the wrong, those that counseled to receive Pompey, and

those that advised to send him away; that in their present case

one thing only was truly expedient, to seize him and to kill

him; and ended his argument with the proverb, that "dead men

don't bite."  The council agreed to his opinion, and Pompey the

Great (an example of incredible and unforeseen events) was

slain, as the sophister himself had the impudence to boast,

through the rhetoric and cleverness of Theodotus.  Not long

after, when Caesar came to Egypt, some of the murderers received

their just reward and suffered the evil death they deserved.

But Theodotus, though he had borrowed on from fortune a little

further time for a poor despicable and wandering life, yet did

not lie hid from Brutus as he passed through Asia; but being

seized by him and executed, had his death made more memorable

than was his life.

About this time, Brutus sent to Cassius to come to him at the

city of Sardis, and, when he was on his journey, went forth with

his friends to meet him; and the whole army in array saluted

each of them with the name of Imperator.  Now (as it usually

happens in business of great concern and where many friends and

many commanders are engaged), several jealousies of each other

and matters of private accusation having passed between Brutus

and Cassius, they resolved, before they entered upon any other

business, immediately to withdraw into some apartment; where,

the door being shut and they two alone, they began first to

expostulate, then to dispute hotly, and accuse each other; and

finally were so transported into passion as to fall to hard

words, and at last burst out into tears.  Their friends who

stood without were amazed, hearing them loud and angry, and

feared lest some mischief might follow, but yet durst not

interrupt them, being commanded not to enter the room.  However,

Marcus Favonius, who had been an ardent admirer of Cato, and,

not so much by his learning or wisdom as by his wild, vehement

manner, maintained the character of a philosopher, was rushing

in upon them, but was hindered by the attendants.  But it was a

hard matter to stop Favonius, wherever his wildness hurried him;

for he was fierce in all his behavior, and ready to do anything

to get his will.  And though he was a senator, yet, thinking

that one of the least of his excellences, he valued himself more

upon a sort of cynical liberty of speaking what he pleased,

which sometimes, indeed, did away with the rudeness and

unseasonableness of his addresses with those that would

interpret it in jest.  This Favonius, breaking by force through

those that kept the doors, entered into the chamber, and with a

set voice declaimed the verses that Homer makes Nestor use, —

Be ruled, for I am older than ye both.

At this Cassius laughed; but Brutus thrust him our, calling him

impudent dog and counterfeit Cynic; but yet for the present they

let it put an end to their dispute, and parted.  Cassius made a

supper that night, and Brutus invited the guests; and when they

were set down, Favonius, having bathed, came in among them.

Brutus called out aloud and told him he was not invited, and

bade him go to the upper couch; but he violently thrust himself

in, and lay down on the middle one; and the entertainment

passed in sportive talk, not wanting either wit or philosophy.

The next day after, upon the accusation of the Sardians, Brutus

publicly disgraced and condemned Lucius Pella, one that had been

censor of Rome, and employed in offices of trust by himself, for

having embezzled the public money.  This action did not a little

vex Cassius; for but a few days before, two of his own friends

being accused of the same crime, he only admonished them in

private, but in public absolved them, and continued them in his

service; and upon this occasion he accused Brutus of too much

rigor and severity of justice in a time which required them to

use more policy and favor.  But Brutus bade him remember the

Ides of March, the day when they killed Caesar, who himself

neither plundered nor pillaged mankind, but was only the support

and strength of those that did; and bade him consider, that if

there was any color for justice to be neglected, it had been

better to suffer the injustice of Caesar's friends than to give

impunity to their own; "for then," said he, "we could have been

accused of cowardice only; whereas now we are liable to the

accusation of injustice, after all our pain and dangers which we

endure."  By which we may perceive what was Brutus's purpose,

and the rule of his actions.

About the time that they were going to pass out of Asia into

Europe, it is said that a wonderful sign was seen by Brutus.  He

was naturally given to much watching, and by practice and

moderation in his diet had reduced his allowance of sleep to a

very small amount of time.  He never slept in the daytime, and

in the night then only when all his business was finished, and

when, everyone else being gone to rest, he had nobody to

discourse with him.  But at this time, the war being begun,

having the whole state of it to consider and being solicitous of

the event, after his first sleep, which he let himself take

after his supper, he spent all the rest of the night in settling

his most urgent affairs; which if he could dispatch early and so

make a saving of any leisure, he employed himself in reading

until the third watch, at which time the centurions and tribunes

were used to come to him for orders.  Thus one night before he

passed out of Asia, he was very late all alone in his tent, with

a dim light burning by him, all the rest of the camp being

hushed and silent; and reasoning about something with himself

and very thoughtful, he fancied someone came in, and, looking

up towards the door, he saw a terrible and strange appearance of

an unnatural and frightful body standing by him without

speaking.  Brutus boldly asked it, "What are you, of men or

gods, and upon what business come to me?"  The figure answered,

"I am your evil genius, Brutus; you shall see me at Philippi."

To which Brutus, not at all disturbed, replied, "Then I shall

see you."

As soon as the apparition vanished, he called his servants to

him, who all told him that they had neither heard any voice nor

seen any vision.  So then he continued watching till the

morning, when he went to Cassius, and told him of what he had

seen.  He, who followed the principles of Epicurus's philosophy,

and often used to dispute with Brutus concerning matters of this

nature, spoke to him thus upon this occasion: "It is the opinion

of our sect, Brutus, that not all that we feel or see is real

and true; but that the sense is a most slippery and deceitful

thing, and the mind yet more quick and subtle to put the sense

in motion and affect it with every kind of change upon no real

occasion of fact; just as an impression is made upon wax; and

the soul of man, which has in itself both what imprints and what

is imprinted on, may most easily, by its own operations, produce

and assume every variety of shape and figure.  This is evident

from the sudden changes of our dreams; in which the imaginative

principle, once started by anything matter, goes through a

whole series of most diverse emotions and appearances.  It is

its nature to be ever in motion, and its motion is fantasy or

conception.  But besides all this, in your case, the body, being

tired and distressed with continual toil, naturally works upon

the mind, and keeps it in an excited and unusual condition.  But

that there should be any such thing as supernatural beings, or,

if there were, that they should have human shape or voice or

power that can reach to us, there is no reason for believing;

though I confess I could wish that there were such beings, that

we might not rely upon our arms only, and our horses and our

navy, all which are so numerous and powerful, but might be

confident of the assistance of gods also, in this our most

sacred and honorable attempt."  With such discourses as these

Cassius soothed the mind of Brutus.  But just as the troops were

going on board, two eagles flew and lighted on the first two

ensigns, and crossed over the water with them, and never ceased

following the soldiers and being fed by them till they came to

Philippi, and there, but one day before the fight, they both

flew away.

Brutus had already reduced most of the places and people of

these parts; but they now marched on as far as to the coast

opposite Thasos, and, if there were any city or man of power

that yet stood out, brought them all to subjection.  At this

point Norbanus was encamped, in a place called the Straits, near

Symbolum.  Him they surrounded in such sort that they forced him

to dislodge and quit the place; and Norbanus narrowly escaped

losing his whole army, Caesar by reason of sickness being too

far behind; only Antony came to his relief with such wonderful

swiftness that Brutus and those with him did not believe when

they heard he was come.  Caesar came up ten days after, and

encamped over against Brutus, and Antony over against Cassius.

The space between the two armies is called by the Romans the

Campi Philippi.  Never had two such large Roman armies come

together to engage each other.  That of Brutus was somewhat less

in number than that of Caesar, but in the splendidness of the

men's arms and richness of their equipage it wonderfully

exceeded; for most of their arms were of gold and silver, which

Brutus had lavishly bestowed among them.  For though in other

things he had accustomed his commanders to use all frugality and

self-control, yet he thought that the riches which soldiers

carried about them in their hands and on their bodies would add

something of spirit to those that were desirous of glory, and

would make those that were covetous and lovers of gain fight the

more valiantly to preserve the arms which were their estate.

Caesar made a view and lustration of his army within his

trenches, and distributed only a little corn and but five

drachmas to each soldier for the sacrifice they were to make.

But Brutus, either pitying this poverty, or disdaining this

meanness of spirit in Caesar, first, as the custom was, made a

general muster and lustration of the army in the open field, and

then distributed a great number of beasts for sacrifice to every

regiment, and fifty drachmas to every soldier; so that in the

love of his soldiers and their readiness to fight for him Brutus

had much the advantage.  But at the time of lustration it is

reported that an unlucky omen happened to Cassius; for his

lictor, presenting him with a garland that he was to wear at

sacrifice, gave it him the wrong way up.  Further, it is said

that some time before, at a certain solemn procession, a golden

image of Victory, which was carried before Cassius, fell down by

a slip of him that carried it.  Besides this there appeared many

birds of prey daily about the camp, and swarms of bees were seen

in a place within the trenches, which place the soothsayers

ordered to be shut out from the camp, to remove the superstition

which insensibly began to infect even Cassius himself and shake

him in his Epicurean philosophy, and had wholly seized and

subdued the soldiers; from whence it was that Cassius was

reluctant to put all to the hazard of a present battle, but

advised rather to draw out the war until further time,

considering that they were stronger in money and provisions, but

in numbers of men and arms inferior.  But Brutus, on the

contrary, was still, as formerly, desirous to come with all

speed to the decision of a battle; that so he might either

restore his country to her liberty, or else deliver from their

misery all those numbers of people whom they harassed with the

expenses and the service and exactions of the war.  And finding

also his light-horse in several skirmishes still to have had the

better, he was the more encouraged and resolved; and some of the

soldiers having deserted and gone to the enemy, and others

beginning to accuse and suspect one another, many of Cassius's

friends in the council changed their opinions to that of Brutus.

But there was one of Brutus's party, named Atellius, who opposed

his resolution, advising rather that they should tarry over the

winter.  And when Brutus asked him in how much better a

condition he hoped to be a year after, his answer was, "If I

gain nothing else, yet I shall live so much the longer."

Cassius was much displeased at this answer; and among the rest,

Atellius was had in much disesteem for it.  And so it was

presently resolved to give battle the next day.

Brutus that night at supper showed himself very cheerful and

full of hope, and reasoned on subjects of philosophy with his

friends, and afterwards went to his rest.  But Messala says that

Cassius supped privately with a few of his nearest acquaintance,

and appeared thoughtful and silent, contrary to his temper and

custom; that after supper he took him earnestly by the hand, and

speaking to him, as his manner was when he wished to show

affection, in Greek, said, "Bear witness for me, Messala, that I

am brought into the same necessity as Pompey the Great was

before me, of hazarding the liberty of my country upon one

battle; yet ought we to be of courage, relying on our good

fortune, which it were unfair to mistrust, though we take evil

counsels."  These, Messala says, were the last words that

Cassius spoke before he bade him farewell; and that he was

invited to sup with him the next night, being his birthday.

As soon as it was morning, the signal of battle, the scarlet

coat, was set out in Brutus's and Cassius's camps, and they

themselves met in the middle space between their two armies.

There Cassius spoke thus to Brutus: "Be it as we hope, O Brutus,

that this day we may overcome, and all the rest of our time may

live a happy life together; but since the greatest of human

concerns are the most uncertain, and since it may be difficult

for us ever to see one another again, if the battle should go

against us, tell me, what is your resolution concerning flight

and death?"  Brutus answered, "When I was young, Cassius, and

unskillful in affairs, I was led, I know not how, into uttering

a bold sentence in philosophy, and blamed Cato for killing

himself, as thinking it an irreligious act, and not a valiant

one among men, to try to evade the divine course of things, and

not fearlessly to receive and undergo the evil that shall

happen, but run away from it.  But now in my own fortunes I am

of another mind; for if Providence shall not dispose what we now

undertake according to our wishes, I resolve to put no further

hopes or warlike preparations to the proof, but will die

contented with my fortune.  For I already have given up my life

to my country on the Ides of March; and have lived since then a

second life for her sake, with liberty and honor."  Cassius at

these words smiled, and, embracing Brutus said, "With these

resolutions let us go on upon the enemy; for either we ourselves

shall conquer, or have no cause to fear those that do."  After

this they discoursed among their friends about the ordering of

the battle; and Brutus desired of Cassius that he might command

the right wing, though it was thought that this was more fit for

Cassius, in regard both of his age and his experience.  Yet even

in this Cassius complied with Brutus, and placed Messala with

the valiantest of all his legions in the same wing, so Brutus

immediately drew out his horse, excellently well equipped, and

was not long in bringing up his foot after them.

Antony's soldiers were casting trenches from the marsh by which

they were encamped, across the plain, to cut off Cassius's

communications with the sea.  Caesar was to be at hand with his

troops to support them, but he was not able to be present

himself, by reason of his sickness; and his soldiers, not much

expecting that the enemy would come to a set battle, but only

make some excursions with their darts and light arms to disturb

the men at work in the trenches, and not taking notice of the

boons drawn up against them ready to give battle, were amazed

when they heard the confused and great outcry that came from the

trenches.  In the meanwhile Brutus had sent his tickets, in

which was the word of battle, to the officers; and himself

riding about to all the troops, encouraged the soldiers; but

there were but few of them that understood the word before they

engaged; the most of them, not staying to have it delivered to

them, with one impulse and cry ran upon the enemy.  This

disorder caused an unevenness in the line, and the legions got

severed and divided one from another; that of Messala first, and

afterwards the other adjoining, went beyond the left wing of

Caesar; and having just touched the extremity, without

slaughtering any great number, passing round that wing, fell

directly into Caesar's camp.  Caesar himself, as his own memoirs

tell us, had but just before been conveyed away, Marcus

Artorius, one of his friends, having had a dream bidding Caesar

be carried out of the camp.  And it was believed that he was

slain; for the soldiers had pierced his litter, which was left

empty, in many places with their darts and pikes.  There was a

great slaughter in the camp that was taken, and two thousand

Lacedaemonians that were newly come to the assistance of Caesar

were all cut off together.

The rest of the army, that had not gone round but had engaged

the front, easily overthrew them, finding them in great

disorder, and slew upon the place three legions; and being

carried on with the stream of victory, pursuing those that fled,

fell into the camp with them, Brutus himself being there.  But

they that were conquered took the advantage in their extremity

of what the conquerors did not consider.  For they fell upon

that part of the main body which had been left exposed and

separated, where the right wing had broke off from them and

hurried away in the pursuit; yet they could not break into the

midst of their battle, but were received with strong resistance

and obstinacy.  Yet they put to flight the left wing, where

Cassius commanded, being in great disorder, and ignorant of what

had passed on the other wing; and, pursuing them to their camp,

they pillaged and destroyed it, neither of their generals being

present; for Antony, they say, to avoid the fury of the first

onset, had retired into the marsh that was hard by; and Caesar

was nowhere to be found after his being conveyed out of the

tents; though some of the soldiers showed Brutus their swords

bloody, and declared that they had killed him, describing his

person and his age.  By this time also the center of Brutus's

battle had driven back their opponents with great slaughter; and

Brutus was everywhere plainly conqueror, as on the other side

Cassius was conquered.  And this one mistake was the ruin of

their affairs, that Brutus did not come to the relief of

Cassius, thinking that he, as well as himself, was conqueror;

and that Cassius did not expect the relief of Brutus, thinking

that he too was overcome.  For as a proof that the victory was

on Brutus's side, Messala urges his taking three eagles and many

ensigns of the enemy without losing any of his own.  But now,

returning from the pursuit after having plundered Caesar's camp,

Brutus wondered that he could not see Cassius's tent standing

high, as it was wont, and appearing above the rest, nor other

things appearing as they had been; for they had been immediately

pulled down and pillaged by the enemy upon their first falling

into the camp.  But some that had a quicker and longer sight

than the rest acquainted Brutus that they saw a great deal of

shining armor and silver targets moving to and fro in Cassius's

camp, and that they thought, by their number and the fashion of

their armor, they could not be those that they left to guard the

camp; but yet that there did not appear so great a number of

dead bodies thereabouts as it was probable there would have been

after the actual defeat of so many legions.  This first made

Brutus suspect Cassius's misfortune, and, leaving a guard in the

enemy's camp, he called back those that were in the pursuit, and

rallied them together to lead them to the relief of Cassius,

whose fortune had been as follows.

First, he had been angry at the onset that Brutus's soldiers

made, without the word of battle or command to charge.  Then,

after they had overcome, he was as much displeased to see them

rush on to the plunder and spoil, and neglect to surround and

encompass the rest of the enemy.  Besides this, letting himself

act by delay and expectation, rather than command boldly and

with a clear purpose, he got hemmed in by the right wing of the

enemy, and, his horse making with all haste their escape and

flying towards the sea, the foot also began to give way, which

he perceiving labored as much as ever he could to hinder their

flight and bring them back; and, snatching an ensign out of the

hand of one that fled, he stuck it at his feet, though he could

hardly keep even his own personal guard together.  So that at

last he was forced to fly with a few about him to a little hill

that overlooked the plain.  But he himself, being weak-sighted,

discovered nothing, only the destruction of his camp, and that

with difficulty.  But they that were with him saw a great body

of horse moving towards him, the same whom Brutus had sent.

Cassius believed these were enemies, and in pursuit of him;

however, he sent away Titinius, one of those that were with him,

to learn what they were.  As soon as Brutus's horse saw him

coming, and knew him to be a friend and a faithful servant of

Cassius, those of them that were his more familiar acquaintance,

shouting out for joy and alighting from their horses, shook

hands and embraced him, and the rest rode round about him

singing and shouting, through their excess of gladness at the

sight of him.  But this was the occasion of the greatest

mischief that could be.  For Cassius really thought that

Titinius had been taken by the enemy, and cried out, "Through

too much fondness of life, I have lived to endure the sight of

my friend taken by the enemy before my face."  After which words

he retired into an empty tent, taking along with him only

Pindarus, one of his freedmen, whom he had reserved for such an

occasion ever since the disasters in the expedition against the

Parthians, when Crassus was slain.  From the Parthians he came

away in safety; but now, pulling up his mantle over his head, he

made his neck bare, and held it forth to Pindarus, commanding

him to strike.  The head was certainly found lying severed from

the body.  But no man ever saw Pindarus after, from which some

suspected that he had killed his master without his command.

Soon after they perceived who the horsemen were, and saw

Titinius, crowned with garlands, making what haste he could

towards Cassius.  But as soon as he understood by the cries and

lamentations of his afflicted friends the unfortunate error and

death of his general, he drew his sword, and having very much

accused and upbraided his own long stay, that had caused it, he

slew himself.

Brutus, as soon as he was assured of the defeat of Cassius, made

haste to him; but heard nothing of his death till he came near

his camp.  Then having lamented over his body, calling him "the

last of the Romans," it being impossible that the city should

ever produce another man of so great a spirit, he sent away the

body to be buried at Thasos, lest celebrating his funeral within

the camp might breed some disorder.  He then gathered the

soldiers together and comforted them; and, seeing them destitute

of all things necessary, he promised to every man two thousand

drachmas in recompense of what he had lost.  They at these words

took courage, and were astonished at the magnificence of the

gift; and waited upon him at his parting with shouts and

praises, magnifying him for the only general of all the four who

was not overcome in the battle.  And indeed the action itself

testified that it was not without reason he believed he should

conquer; for with a few legions he overthrew all that resisted

him; and if all his soldiers had fought, and the most of them

had not passed beyond the enemy in pursuit of the plunder, it is

very likely that he had utterly defeated every part of them.

There fell of his side eight thousand men, reckoning the

servants of the army, whom Brutus calls Briges; and on the other

side, Messala says his opinion is that there were slain above

twice that number.  For which reason they were more out of heart

than Brutus, until a servant of Cassius, named Demetrius, came

in the evening to Antony, and brought to him the garment which

he had taken from the dead body, and his sword; at the sight of

which they were so encouraged, that, as soon as it was morning,

they drew out their whole force into the field, and stood in

battle array.  But Brutus found both his camps wavering and in

disorder; for his own, being filled with prisoners, required a

guard more strict than ordinary over them; and that of Cassius

was uneasy at the change of general, besides some envy and

rancor, which those that were conquered bore to that part of the

army which had been conquerors.  Wherefore he thought it

convenient to put his army in array, but to abstain from

fighting.  All the slaves that were taken prisoners, of whom

there was a great number that were mixed up, not without

suspicion, among the soldiers, he commanded to be slain; but of

the freemen and citizens, some he dismissed, saying that among

the enemy they were rather prisoners than with him, for with

them they were captives and slaves, but with him freemen and

citizens of Rome.  But he was forced to hide and help them to

escape privately, perceiving that his friends and officers were

bent upon revenge against them.  Among the captives there was

one Volumnius, a player, and Sacculio, a buffoon; of these

Brutus took no manner of notice, but his friends brought them

before him, and accused them that even then in that condition

they did not refrain from their jests and scurrilous language.

Brutus, having his mind taken up with other affairs, said

nothing to their accusation; but the judgment of Messala

Corvinus was, that they should be whipped publicly upon a stage,

and so sent naked to the captains of the enemy, to show them

what sort of fellow drinkers and companions they took with them

on their campaigns.  At this some that were present laughed; and

Publius Casca, he that gave the first wound to Caesar, said, "We

do ill to jest and make merry at the funeral of Cassius.  But

you, O Brutus," he added, "will show what esteem you have for

the memory of that general, according as you punish or preserve

alive those who will scoff and speak shamefully of him."  To

this Brutus, in great discomposure replied, "Why then, Casca, do

you ask me about it, and not do yourselves what you think

fitting?"  This answer of Brutus was taken for his consent to

the death of these wretched men; so they were carried away and

slain.

After this he gave the soldiers the reward that he had promised

them; and having slightly reproved them for having fallen upon

the enemy in disorder without the word of battle or command, he

promised them, that if they behaved themselves bravely in the

next engagement, he would give them up two cities to spoil and

plunder, Thessalonica and Lacedaemon.  This is the one

indefensible thing of all that is found fault with in the life

of Brutus; though true it may be that Antony and Caesar were

much more cruel in the rewards that they gave their soldiers

after victory; for they drove out, one might almost say, all the

old inhabitants of Italy, to put their soldiers in possession of

other men's lands and cities.  But indeed their only design and

end in undertaking the war was to obtain dominion and empire,

whereas Brutus, for the reputation of his virtue, could not be

permitted either to overcome or save himself but with justice

and honor, especially after the death of Cassius, who was

generally accused of having been his adviser to some things that

he had done with less clemency.  But now, as in a ship, when the

rudder is broken by a storm, the mariners fit and nail on some

other piece of wood instead of it, striving against the danger

not well, but as well as in that necessity they can, so Brutus,

being at the head of so great an army, in a time of such

uncertainty, having no commander equal to his need, was forced

to make use of those that he had, and to do and to say many

things according to their advice; which was, in effect, whatever

might conduce to the bringing of Cassius's soldiers into better

order.  For they were very headstrong and intractable, bold and

insolent in the camp for want of their general, but in the field

cowardly and fearful, remembering that they had been beaten.

Neither were the affairs of Caesar and Antony in any better

posture; for they were straitened for provision, and, the camp

being in a low ground, they expected to pass a very hard winter.

For being driven close upon the marshes, and a great quantity of

rain, as is usual in autumn, having fallen after the battle,

their tents were all filled with mire and water, which through

the coldness of the weather immediately froze.  And while they

were in this condition, there was news brought to them of their

loss at sea.  For Brutus's fleet fell upon their ships, which

were bringing a great supply of soldiers out of Italy, and so

entirely defeated them, that but very few of the men escaped

being slain, and they too were forced by famine to feed upon the

sails and tackle of the ship.  As soon as they heard this, they

made what haste they could to come to the decision of a battle,

before Brutus should have notice of his good success.  For it

had so happened that the fight both by sea and land was on the

same day, but by some misfortune, rather than the fault of his

commanders, Brutus knew not of his victory twenty days after.

For had he been informed of this, he would not have been brought

to a second battle, since he had sufficient provisions for his

army for a long time, and was very advantageously posted, his

camp being well sheltered from the cold weather, and almost

inaccessible to the enemy, and his being absolute master of the

sea, and having at land overcome on that side wherein he himself

was engaged, would have made him full of hope and confidence.

But it seems, the state of Rome not enduring any longer to be

governed by many, but necessarily requiring a monarchy, the

divine power, that it might remove out of the way the only man

that was able to resist him that could control the empire, cut

off his good fortune from coming to the ears of Brutus; though

it came but a very little too late, for the very evening before

the fight, Clodius, a deserter from the enemy, came and

announced that Caesar had received advice of the loss of his

fleet, and for that reason was in such haste to come to a

battle.  But his story met with no credit, nor was he so much as

seen by Brutus, being simply set down as one that had had no

good information, or invented lies to bring himself into favor.

The same night, they say, the vision appeared again to Brutus,

in the same shape that it did before, but vanished without

speaking.  But Publius Volumnius, a philosopher, and one that

had from the beginning borne arms with Brutus, makes no mention

of this apparition, but says that the first eagle was covered

with a swarm of bees, and that there was one of the captains

whose arm of itself sweated oil of roses, and, though they often

dried and wiped it, yet it would not cease; and that immediately

before the battle, two eagles falling upon each other fought in

the space between the two armies, that the whole field kept

incredible silence and all were intent upon the spectacle, until

at last that which was on Brutus's side yielded and fled.  But

the story of the Ethiopian is very famous, who meeting the

standard-bearer at the opening the gate of the camp, was cut to

pieces by the soldiers, that took it for an ill omen.

Brutus, having brought his army into the field and set them in

array against the enemy, paused a long while before he would

fight; for, as he was reviewing the troops, suspicions were

excited, and informations laid against some of them.  Besides,

he saw his horse not very eager to begin the action, and waiting

to see what the foot would do.  Then suddenly Camulatus, a very

good soldier, and one whom for his valor he highly esteemed,

riding hard by Brutus himself, went over to the enemy, the sight

of which grieved Brutus exceedingly.  So that partly out of

anger, and partly out of fear of some greater treason and

desertion, he immediately drew on his forces upon the enemy, the

sun now declining, about three of the clock in the afternoon.

Brutus on his side had the better, and pressed hard on the left

wing, which gave way and retreated; and the horse too fell in

together with the foot, when they saw the enemy in disorder.

But the other wing, when the officers extended the line to avoid

its being encompassed, the numbers being inferior, got drawn out

too thin in the center, and was so weak here that they could not

withstand the charge, but at the first onset fled.  After

defeating these, the enemy at once took Brutus in the rear, who

all the while performed all that was possible for an expert

general and valiant soldier, doing everything in the peril, by

counsel and by hand, that might recover the victory.  But that

which had been his superiority in the former fight was to his

prejudice in this second.  For in the first fight, that part of

the enemy which was beaten was killed on the spot; but of

Cassius's soldiers that fled few had been slain, and those that

escaped, daunted with their defeat, infected the other and

larger part of the army with their want of spirit and their

disorder.  Here Marcus, the son of Cato, was slain, fighting and

behaving himself with great bravery in the midst of the youth of

the highest rank and greatest valor.  He would neither fly nor

give the least ground, but, still fighting and declaring who he

was and naming his father's name, he fell upon a heap of dead

bodies of the enemy.  And of the rest, the bravest were slain in

defending Brutus.

There was in the field one Lucilius, an excellent man and a

friend of Brutus, who, seeing some barbarian horse taking no

notice of any other in the pursuit, but galloping at full speed

after Brutus, resolved to stop them, though with the hazard of

his life; and, letting himself fall a little behind, he told

them that he was Brutus.  They believed him the rather, because

he prayed to be carried to Antony, as if he feared Caesar, but

durst trust him.  They, overjoyed with their prey, and thinking

themselves wonderfully fortunate, carried him along with them in

the night, having first sent messengers to Antony of their

coming.  He was much pleased, and came to meet them; and all the

rest that heard that Brutus was taken and brought alive, flocked

together to see him, some pitying his fortune, others accusing;

him of a meanness unbecoming his former glory, that out of too

much love of life he would be a prey to barbarians.  When they

came near together, Antony stood still, considering with himself

in what manner he should receive Brutus.  But Lucilius, being

brought up to him, with great confidence said: "Be assured,

Antony, that no enemy either has taken or ever shall take Marcus

Brutus alive (forbid it, heaven, that fortune should ever so

much prevail above virtue), but he shall be found, alive or

dead, as becomes himself.  As for me, I am come hither by a

cheat that I put upon your soldiers, and am ready, upon this

occasion, to suffer any severities you will inflict."  All were

amazed to hear Lucilius speak these words.  But Antony, turning

himself to those that brought him, said: "I perceive, my

fellow-soldiers, that you are concerned and take it ill that you

have been thus deceived, and think yourselves abused and injured

by it; but know that you have met with a booty better than that

you sought.  For you were in search of an enemy, but you have

brought me here a friend.  For indeed I am uncertain how I

should have used Brutus, if you had brought him alive; but of

this I am sure, that it is better to have such men as Lucilius

our friends than our enemies."  Having said this, he embraced

Lucilius, and for the present commended him to the care of one

of his friends, and ever after found him a steady and a faithful

friend.

Brutus had now passed a little brook, running among trees and

under steep rocks, and, it being night, would go no further, but

sat down in a hollow place with a great rock projecting before

it, with a few of his officers and friends about him.  At first,

looking up to heaven, that was then full of stars, he repeated

two verses, one of which, Volumnius writes, was this: —

Punish, great Jove, the author of these ills.

The other he says he has forgot.  Soon after, naming severally

all his friends that had been slain before his face in the

battle, he groaned heavily, especially at the mentioning of

Flavius and Labeo, the latter his lieutenant, and the other

chief officer of his engineers.  In the meantime, one of his

companions, that was very thirsty and saw Brutus in the same

condition, took his helmet and ran to the brook for water, when,

a noise being heard from the other side of the river, Volumnius,

taking Dardanus, Brutus's armor-bearer, with him, went out to

see what it was.  They returned in a short space, and inquired

about the water.  Brutus, smiling with much meaning, said to

Volumnius, "It is all drunk; but you shall have some more

fetched."  But he that had brought the first water, being sent

again, was in great danger of being taken by the enemy, and,

having received a wound, with much difficulty escaped.

Now Brutus guessing that not many of his men were slain in the

fight, Statyllius undertook to dash through the enemy (for there

was no other way), and to see what was become of their camp; and

promised, if he found all things there safe, to hold up a torch

for a signal, and then return.  The torch was held up, for

Statyllius got safe to the camp; but when after a long time he

did not return, Brutus said, "If Statyllius be alive, he will

come back."  But it happened that in his return he fell into the

enemy's hands, and was slain.

The night now being far spent, Brutus, as he was sitting, leaned

his head towards his servant Clitus and spoke to him; he

answered him not, but fell a weeping.  After that, he drew

aside his armor-bearer, Dardanus, and had some discourse with

him in private.  At last, speaking to Volumnius in Greek, he

reminded him of their common studies and former discipline, and

begged that he would take hold of his sword with him, and help

him to thrust it through him.  Volumnius put away his request,

and several others did the like; and someone saying, that there

was no staying there, but they needs must fly, Brutus, rising

up, said, "Yes, indeed, we must fly, but not with our feet, but

with our hands."  Then giving each of them his right hand, with

a countenance full of pleasure, he said, that he found an

infinite satisfaction in this, that none of his friends had been

false to him; that as for fortune, he was angry with that only

for his country's sake; as for himself, he thought himself much

more happy than they who had overcome, not only as he had been a

little time ago, but even now in his present condition; since he

was leaving behind him such a reputation of his virtue as none

of the conquerors with all their arms and riches should ever be

able to acquire, no more than they could hinder posterity from

believing and saying, that, being unjust and wicked men, they

had destroyed the just and the good, and usurped a power to

which they had no right.  After this, having exhorted and

entreated all about him to provide for their own safety, he

withdrew from them with two or three only of his peculiar

friends; Strato was one of these, with whom he had contracted an

acquaintance when they studied rhetoric together.  Him he placed

next to himself, and, taking hold of the hilt of his sword and

directing it with both his hands, he fell upon it, and killed

himself.  But others say, that not he himself, but Strato, at

the earnest entreaty of Brutus, turning aside his head, held the

sword, upon which he violently throwing himself, it pierced his

breast, and he immediately died.  This same Strato, Messala, a

friend of Brutus, being, after reconciled to Caesar, brought to

him once at his leisure, and with tears in his eyes said, "This,

O Caesar, is the man that did the last friendly office to my

beloved Brutus."  Upon which Caesar received him kindly; and had

good use of him in his labors and his battles at Actium, being

one of the Greeks that proved their bravery in his service.  It

is reported of Messala himself, that, when Caesar once gave him

this commendation, that though he was his fiercest enemy at

Philippi in the cause of Brutus, yet he had shown himself his

most entire friend in the fight of Actium, he answered, "You

have always found me, Caesar, on the best and justest side."

Brutus's dead body was found by Antony, who commanded the

richest purple mantle that he had to be thrown over it, and

afterwards the mantle being stolen, he found the thief, and had

him put to death.  He sent the ashes of Brutus to his mother

Servilia.  As for Porcia his wife, Nicolaus the philosopher and

Valerius Maximus write, that, being desirous to die, but being

hindered by her friends, who continually watched her, she

snatched some burning charcoal out of the fire, and, shutting it

close in her mouth, stifled herself, and died.  Though there is

a letter current from Brutus to his friends, in which he laments

the death of Porcia, and accuses them for neglecting her so that

she desired to die rather than languish with her disease.  So

that it seems Nicolaus was mistaken in the time; for this

epistle (if it indeed is authentic, and truly Brutus's) gives us

to understand the malady and love of Porcia, and the way in

which her death occurred.

COMPARISON OF DION AND BRUTUS

There are noble points in abundance in the characters of these

two men, and one to be first mentioned is their attaining such a

height of greatness upon such inconsiderable means; and on this

score Dion has by far the advantage.  For he had no partner to

contest his glory, as Brutus had in Cassius, who was not,

indeed, his equal in proved virtue and honor, yet contributed

quite as much to the service of the war by his boldness, skill,

and activity; and some there be who impute to him the rise and

beginning of the whole enterprise, saying that it was he who

roused Brutus, till then indisposed to stir, into action against

Caesar.  Whereas Dion seems of himself to have provided not only

arms, ships, and soldiers, but likewise friends and partners for

the enterprise.  Neither did he, as Brutus, collect money and

forces from the war itself, but, on the contrary, laid out of

his own substance, and employed the very means of his private

sustenance in exile for the liberty of his country.  Besides

this, Brutus and Cassius, when they fled from Rome, could not

live safe or quiet, being condemned to death and pursued, and

were thus of necessity forced to take arms and hazard their

lives in their own defense, to save themselves, rather than

their country.  On the other hand, Dion enjoyed more ease, was

more safe, and his life more pleasant in his banishment, than

was the tyrant's who had banished him, when he flew to action,

and ran the risk of all to save Sicily.

Take notice, too, that it was not the same thing for the

Sicilians to be freed from Dionysius, and for the Romans to be

freed from Caesar.  The former owned himself a tyrant, and vexed

Sicily with a thousand oppressions; whereas Caesar's supremacy,

certainly, in the process for attaining it, had inflicted no

little trouble on its opponents, but, once established and

victorious, it had indeed the name and appearance, but fact that

was cruel or tyrannical there was none.  On the contrary, in the

malady of the times and the need of a monarchical government, he

might be thought to have been sent, as the gentlest physician,

by no other than a divine intervention.  And thus the common

people instantly regretted Caesar, and grew enraged and

implacable against those that killed him.  Whereas Dion's chief

offense in the eyes of his fellow-citizens was his having let

Dionysius escape, and not having demolished the former tyrant's

tomb.

In the actual conduct of war, Dion was a commander without

fault, improving to the utmost those counsels which he himself

gave, and, where others led him into disaster, correcting and

turning everything to the best.  But Brutus seems to have shown

little wisdom in engaging in the final battle, which was to

decide everything, and, when he failed, not to have done his

business in seeking a remedy ; he gave all up, and abandoned his

hopes, not venturing against fortune even as far as Pompey did,

when he had still means enough to rely on in his troops, and was

clearly master of all the seas with his ships.

The greatest thing charged on Brutus is, that he, being saved by

Caesar's kindness, having saved all the friends whom he chose to

ask for, he moreover accounted a friend, and preferred above

many, did yet lay violent hands upon his preserver.  Nothing

like this could be objected against Dion; quite the contrary,

whilst he was of Dionysius's family and his friend, he did good

service, and was useful to him; but driven from his country,

wronged in his wife, and his estate lost, he openly entered upon

a war just and lawful.  Does not, however, the matter turn the

other way?  For the chief glory of both was their hatred of

tyranny, and abhorrence of wickedness.  This was unmixed and

sincere in Brutus; for he had no private quarrel with Caesar,

but went into the risk singly for the liberty of his country.

The other, had he not been privately injured, had not fought.

This is plain from Plato's epistles, where it is shown that he

was turned out, and did not forsake the court to wage war upon

Dionysius.  Moreover, the public good made Brutus Pompey's

friend (instead of his enemy as he had been) and Caesar's enemy;

since he proposed for his hatred and his friendship no other end

and standard but justice.  Dion was very serviceable to

Dionysius whilst in favor; when no longer trusted, he grew angry

and fell to arms.  And, for this reason, not even were his own

friends all of them satisfied with his undertaking, or quite

assured that, having overcome Dionysius, he might not settle the

government on himself, deceiving his fellow-citizens by some

less obnoxious name than tyranny.  But the very enemies of

Brutus would say that he had no other end or aim, from first to

last, save only to restore to the Roman people their ancient

government.

And apart from what has just been said, the adventure against

Dionysius was nothing equal with that against Caesar.  For none

that was familiarly conversant with Dionysius but scorned him

for his life of idle amusement with wine, women, and dice;

whereas it required an heroic soul and a truly intrepid and

unquailing spirit so much as to entertain the thought of

crushing Caesar so formidable for his ability, his power, and

his fortune, whose very name disturbed the slumbers of the

Parthian and Indian kings.  Dion was no sooner seen in Sicily

but thousands ran in to him and joined him against Dionysius;

whereas the renown of Caesar, even when dead, gave strength to

his friends; and his very name so heightened the person that

took it, that from a simple boy he presently became the chief of

the Romans; and he could use it for a spell against the enmity

and power of Antony.  If any object that it cost Dion great

trouble and difficulties to overcome the tyrant, whereas Brutus

slew Caesar naked and unprovided, yet this itself was the result

of the most consummate policy and conduct, to bring it about

that a man so guarded around, and so fortified at all points,

should be taken naked and unprovided.  For it was not on the

sudden, nor alone, nor with a few, that he fell upon and killed

Caesar; but after long concerting the plot, and placing

confidence in a great many men, not one of whom deceived him.

For he either at once discerned the best men, or by confiding in

them made them good.  But Dion, either making a wrong judgment,

trusted himself with ill men, or else by his employing them made

ill men of good; either of the two would be a reflection on a

wise man.  Plato also is severe upon him, for choosing such for

friends as betrayed him.

Besides, when Dion was killed, none appeared to revenge his

death.  Whereas Brutus, even amongst his enemies, had Antony

that buried him splendidly; and Caesar also took care his honors

should be preserved.  There stood at Milan in Gaul, within the

Alps, a brazen statue, which Caesar in after-times noticed

(being a real likeness, and a fine work of art), and passing by

it, presently stopped short, and in the hearing of many

commended the magistrates to come before him.  He told them

their town had broken their league, harboring an enemy.  The

magistrates at first simply denied the thing, and, not knowing

what he meant, looked one upon another, when Caesar, turning

towards the statue and gathering his brows, said, "Pray, is not

that our enemy who stands there?"  They were all in confusion,

and had nothing to answer; but he, smiling, much commended the

Gauls, as who had been firm to their friends, though in

adversity, and ordered that the statue should remain standing as

he found it.

ARATUS

The philosopher Chrysippus, O Polycrates, quotes an ancient

proverb, not as really it should be, apprehending, I suppose,

that it sounded too harshly, but so as he thought it would run

best, in these words,

Who praise their father but the generous sons?

But Dionysodorus the Troezenian proves him to be wrong, and

restores the true reading, which is this, —

Who praise their fathers but degenerate sons?

telling us that the proverb is meant to stop the mouth of those

who, having no merit of their own, take refuge in the virtues of

their ancestors, and make their advantage of praising them.

But, as Pindar hath it,

He that by nature doth inherit

From ancestors a noble spirit,

as you do, who make your life the copy of the fairest originals

of your family, — such, I say, may take great satisfaction in

being reminded, both by hearing others speak and speaking

themselves, of the best of their progenitors.  For they assume

not the glory of praises earned by others out of any want of

worth of their own, but, affiliating their own deeds to those of

their ancestor, give them honor as the authors both of their

descent and manners.

Therefore I have sent to you the life which I have written of

your fellow-citizen and forefather Aratus, to whom you are no

discredit in point either of reputation or of authority, not as

though you had not been most diligently careful to inform

yourself from the beginning concerning his actions, but that

your sons, Polycrates and Pythocles, may both by hearing and

reading become familiar with those family examples which it

behooves them to follow and imitate.  It is a piece of

self-love, and not of the love of virtue, to imagine one has

already attained to what is best.

The city of Sicyon, from the time that it first fell off from

the pure and Doric aristocracy (its harmony being destroyed, and

a mere series of seditions and personal contests of popular

leaders ensuing), continued to be distempered and unsettled,

changing from one tyrant to another, until, Cleon being slain,

Timoclides and Clinias, men of the most repute and power amongst

the citizens, were chosen to the magistracy.  And the

commonwealth now seeming to be in a pretty settled condition,

Timoclides died, and Abantidas, the son of Paseas, to possess

himself of the tyranny, killed Clinias, and, of his kindred and

friends, slew some and banished others.  He sought also to kill

his son Aratus, whom he left behind him, being but seven years

old.  This boy in the general disorder getting out of the house

with those that fled, and wandering about the city helpless and

in great fear, by chance got undiscovered into the house of a

woman who was Abantidas's sister, but married to Prophantus, the

brother of Clinias, her name being Soso.  She, being of a

generous temper, and believing the boy had by some supernatural

guidance fled to her for shelter, hid him in the house, and at

night sent him away to Argos.

Aratus, being thus delivered and secured from this danger,

conceived from the first and ever after nourished a vehement and

burning hatred against tyrants, which strengthened with his

years.  Being therefore bred up amongst his father's

acquaintance and friends at Argos with a liberal education, and

perceiving his body to promise good health and stature, he

addicted himself to the exercises of the palaestra, to that

degree that he competed in the five games, and gained some

crowns; and indeed in his statues one may observe a certain kind

of athletic cast, and the sagacity and majesty of his

countenance does not dissemble his full diet and the use of the

hoe. Whence it came to pass that he less studied eloquence than

perhaps became a statesman, and yet he was more accomplished in

speaking than many believe, judging by the commentaries which he

left behind him, written carelessly and by the way, as fast as

he could do it, and in such words as first came to his mind.

In the course of time, Dinias and Aristoteles the logician

killed Abantidas, who used to be present in the marketplace at

their discussions, and to make one in them; till they, taking

the occasion, insensibly accustomed him to the practice, and so

had opportunity to contrive and execute a plot against him.

After him Paseas, the father of Abantidas, taking upon him the

government, was assassinated by Nicocles, who himself set up for

tyrant.  Of him it is related that he was strikingly like

Periander the son of Cypselus, just as it is said that Orontes

the Persian bore a great resemblance to Alcmaeon the son of

Amphiaraus, and that Lacedaemonian youth, whom Myrsilus relates

to have been trodden to pieces by the crowd of those that came

to see him upon that report, to Hector.

This Nicocles governed four months, in which, after he had done

all kinds of mischief to the city, he very nearly let it fall

into the hands of the Aetolians.  By this time Aratus, being

grown a youth, was in much esteem, both for his noble birth and

his spirit and disposition, which, while neither insignificant

nor wanting in energy, were solid, and tempered with a

steadiness of judgment beyond his years.  For which reason the

exiles had their eyes most upon him, nor did Nicocles less

observe his motions, but secretly spied and watched him, not out

of apprehension of any such considerable or utterly audacious

attempt, but suspecting he held correspondence with the kings,

who were his father's friends and acquaintance.  And, indeed,

Aratus first attempted this way; but finding that Antigonus, who

had promised fair, neglected him and delayed the time, and that

his hopes from Egypt and Ptolemy were long to wait for, he

determined to cut off the tyrant by himself.

And first he broke his mind to Aristomachus and Ecdelus, the one

an exile of Sicyon, the other, Ecdelus, an Arcadian of

Megalopolis, a philosopher, and a man of action, having been the

familiar friend of Arcesilaus the Academic at Athens.  These

readily consenting, he communicated with the other exiles,

whereof some few, being ashamed to seem to despair of success,

engaged in the design; but most of them endeavored to divert him

from his purpose, as one that for want of experience was too

rash and daring.

Whilst he was consulting to seize upon some post in Sicyonia,

from whence he might make war upon the tyrant, there came to

Argos a certain Sicyonian, newly escaped out of prison, brother

to Xenocles, one of the exiles, who being by him presented to

Aratus informed him, that that part of the wall over which he

escaped was, inside, almost level with the ground, adjoining a

rocky and elevated place, and that from the outside it might be

scaled with ladders.  Aratus, hearing this, dispatches away

Xenocles with two of his own servants, Seuthas and Technon, to

view the wall, resolving, if possible, secretly and with one

risk to hazard all on a single trial, rather than carry on a

contest as a private man against a tyrant by long war and open

force.  Xenocles, therefore, with his companions, returning

having taken the height of the wall, and declaring the place not

to be impossible or indeed difficult to get over, but that it

was not easy to approach it undiscovered, by reason of some

small but uncommonly savage and noisy dogs belonging to a

gardener hard by, he immediately undertook the business.

Now the preparation of arms gave no jealousy, because robberies

and petty forays were at that time common everywhere between one

set of people and another; and for the ladders, Euphranor, the

machine-maker, made them openly, his trade rendering him

unsuspected, though one of the exiles.  As for men, each of his

friends in Argos furnished him with ten apiece out of those few

they had, and he armed thirty of his own servants, and hired

some few soldiers of Xenophilus, the chief of the robber

captains, to whom it was given out that they were to march into

the territory of Sicyon to seize the king's stud; most of them

were sent before, in small parties, to the tower of Polygnotus,

with orders to wait there; Caphisias also was dispatched

beforehand lightly armed, with four others, who were, as soon as

it was dark, to come to the gardener's house, pretending to be

travelers, and, procuring their lodging there, to shut up him

and his dogs; for there was no other way of getting past.  And

for the ladders, they had been made to take in pieces, and were

put into chests, and sent before hidden upon wagons.  In the

meantime, some of the spies of Nicocles appearing in Argos, and

being said to go privately about watching Aratus, he came early

in the morning into the market-place, showing him self openly

and conversing with his friends; then he anointed himself in the

exercise ground, and, taking with him thence some of the young

men that used to drink and spend their time with him, he went

home; and presently after several of his servants were seen

about the marketplace, one carrying garlands, another buying

flambeaus, and a third speaking to the women that used to sing

and play at banquets, all which things the spies observing were

deceived, and said laughing to one another, "Certainly nothing

can be more timorous than a tyrant, if Nicocles, being master of

so great a city and so numerous a force, stands in fear of a

youth that spends what he has to subsist upon in his banishment

in pleasures and day-debauches;" and, being thus imposed upon,

they returned home.

But Aratus, departing immediately after his morning meal, and

coming to his soldiers at Polygnotus's tower, led them to Nemea;

where he disclosed, to most of them for the first time; his true

design, making them large promises and fair speeches, and

marched towards the city, giving for the word Apollo victorious,

proportioning his march to the motion of the moon, so as to have

the benefit of her light upon the way, and to be in the garden,

which was close to the wall, just as she was setting.  Here

Caphisias came to him, who had not secured the dogs, which had

run away before he could catch them, but had only made sure of

the gardener.  Upon which most of the company being out of heart

and desiring to retreat, Aratus encouraged them to go on,

promising to retire in case the dogs were too troublesome;

and at the same time sending forward those that carried the

ladders, conducted by Ecdelus and Mnasitheus, he followed them

himself leisurely, the dogs already barking very loud and

following, the steps of Ecdelus and his companions.  However,

they got to the wall, and reared the ladders with safety.  But

as the foremost men were mounting them, the captain of the watch

that was to be relieved by the morning guard passed on his way

with the bell, and there were many lights, and a noise of people

coming up.  Hearing which, they clapped themselves close to the

ladders, and so were unobserved; but as the other watch also was

coming up to meet this, they were in extreme danger of being

discovered.  But when this also went by without observing them,

immediately Mnasitheus and Ecdelus got upon the wall, and,

possessing themselves of the approaches inside and out, sent

away Technon to Aratus, desiring him to make all the haste he

could.

Now there was no great distance from the garden to the wall and

to the tower, in which latter a large hound was kept.  The hound

did not hear their steps of himself, whether that he were

naturally drowsy, or overwearied the day before, but, the

gardener's curs awaking him, he first began to growl and grumble

in response, and then as they passed by to bark out aloud.  And

the barking was now so great, that the sentinel opposite shouted

out to the dog's keeper to know why the dog kept such a barking,

and whether anything was the matter; who answered, that it was

nothing, but only that his dog had been set barking by the

lights of the watch and the noise of the bell.  This reply much

encouraged Aratus's soldiers, who thought the dog's keeper was

privy to their design, and wished to conceal what was passing,

and that many others in the city were of the conspiracy.  But

when they came to scale the wall, the attempt then appeared both

to require time and to be full of danger, for the ladders shook

and tottered extremely unless they mounted them leisurely and

one by one, and time pressed, for the cocks began to crow, and

the country people that used to bring things to the market would

be coming to the town directly.  Therefore Aratus made haste to

get up himself, forty only of the company being already upon the

wall, and, staying but for a few more of those that were below,

he made straight to the tyrant's house and the general's office,

where the mercenary soldiers passed the night, and, coming

suddenly upon them, and taking them prisoners without killing

any one of them, he immediately sent to all his friends in their

houses to desire them to come to him, which they did from all

quarters.  By this time the day began to break, and the theater

was filled with a multitude that were held in suspense by

uncertain reports and knew nothing distinctly of what had

happened, until a public crier came forward and proclaimed that

Aratus, the son of Clinias, invited the citizens to recover

their liberty.

Then at last assured that what they so long looked for was come

to pass, they pressed in throngs to the tyrant's gates to set

them on fire.  And such a flame was kindled, the whole house

catching fire, that it was seen as far as Corinth; so that the

Corinthians, wondering what the matter could be, were upon the

point of coming to their assistance.  Nicocles fled away

secretly out of the city by means of certain underground

passages, and the soldiers, helping the Sicyonians to quench the

fire, plundered the house.  This Aratus hindered not, but

divided also the rest of the riches of the tyrants amongst the

citizens.  In this exploit, not one of those engaged in it was

slain, nor any of the contrary party, fortune so ordering the

action as to be clear and free from civil bloodshed.  He

restored eighty exiles who had been expelled by Nicocles, and no

less than five hundred who had been driven out by former tyrants

and had endured a long banishment, pretty nearly, by this time,

of fifty years' duration.  These returning, most of them very

poor, were impatient to enter upon their former possessions,

and, proceeding to their several farms and houses, gave great

perplexity to Aratus, who considered that the city without was

envied for its liberty and aimed at by Antigonus, and within was

full of disorder and sedition.  Wherefore, as things stood, he

thought it best to associate it to the Achaean community, and

so, although Dorians, they of their own will took upon them the

name and citizenship of the Achaeans, who at that time had

neither great repute nor much power.  For the most of them lived

in small towns, and their territory was neither large nor

fruitful, and the neighboring sea was almost wholly without a

harbor, breaking direct upon a rocky shore.  But yet these above

others made it appear that the Grecian courage was invincible,

whensoever it could only have order and concord within itself

and a prudent general to direct it.  For though they had

scarcely been counted as any part of the ancient Grecian power,

and at this time did not equal the strength of one ordinary

city, yet by prudence and unanimity, and because they knew how

not to envy and malign, but to obey and follow him amongst them

that was most eminent for virtue, they not only preserved their

own liberty in the midst of so many great cities, military

powers, and monarchies, but went on steadily saving and

delivering from slavery great numbers of the Greeks.

As for Aratus, he was in his behavior a true statesman,

high-minded, and more intent upon the public than his private

concerns, a bitter hater of tyrants, making the common good the

rule and law of his friendships and enmities.  So that indeed he

seems not to have been so faithful a friend, as he was a

reasonable and gentle enemy, ready, according to the needs of

the state, to suit himself on occasion to either side; concord

between nations, brotherhood between cities, the council and the

assembly unanimous in their votes, being the objects above all

other blessings to which he was passionately devoted; backward,

indeed, and diffident in the use of arms and open force, but in

effecting a purpose underhand, and outwitting cities and

potentates without observation, most politic and dexterous.

Therefore, though he succeeded beyond hope in many enterprises

which he undertook, yet he seems to have left quite as many

unattempted, though feasible enough, for want of assurance.  For

it should seem, that, as the sight of certain beasts is strong

in the night but dim by day, the tenderness of the humors of

their eyes not bearing the contact of the light, so there is

also one kind of human skill and sagacity which is easily

daunted and disturbed in actions done in the open day and before

the world, and recovers all its self-possession in secret and

covert enterprises; which inequality is occasioned in noble

minds for want of philosophy, a mere wild and uncultivated fruit

of a virtue without true knowledge coming up; as might be made

out by examples.

Aratus, therefore, having associated himself and his city to the

Achaeans, served in the cavalry, and made himself much beloved

by his commanding officers for his exact obedience; for though

he had made so large an addition to the common strength as that

of his own credit and the power of his country, yet he was as

ready as the most ordinary person to be commanded by the Achaean

general of the time being, whether he were a man of Dymae, or of

Tritaea, or any yet meaner town than these.  Having also a

present of five and twenty talents sent him from the king, he

took them, but gave them all to his fellow-citizens, who wanted

money, amongst other purposes, for the redemption of those who

had been taken prisoners.

But the exiles being by no means to be satisfied, disturbing

continually those that were in possession of their estates,

Sicyon was in great danger of falling into perfect desolation;

so that, having no hope left but in the kindness of Ptolemy, he

resolved to sail to him, and to beg so much money of him as

might reconcile all parties.  So he set sail from Mothone beyond

Malea, designing to make the direct passage.  But the pilot not

being able to keep the vessel up against a strong wind and high

waves that came in from the open sea, he was driven from his

course, and with much ado got to shore in Andros, an enemy's

land, possessed by Antigonus, who had a garrison there.  To

avoid which he immediately landed, and, leaving the ship, went

up into the country a good way from the sea, having along with

him only one friend, called Timanthes; and throwing themselves

into some ground thickly covered with wood, they had but an ill

night's rest of it.  Not long after, the commander of the troops

came, and, inquiring for Aratus, was deceived by his servants,

who had been instructed to say that he had fled at once over

into the island of Euboea.  However, he declared the chip, the

property on board of her, and the servants, to be lawful prize,

and detained them accordingly.  As for Aratus, after some few

days, in his extremity by good fortune a Roman ship happened to

put in just at the spot in which he made his abode, sometimes

peeping out to seek his opportunity, sometimes keeping close.

She was bound for Syria; but going aboard, he agreed with the

master to land him in Caria.  In which voyage he met with no

less danger on the sea than before.  From Caria being after much

time arrived in Egypt, he immediately went to the king, who had

a great kindness for him, and had received from him many

presents of drawings and paintings out of Greece.  Aratus had a

very good judgment in them, and always took care to collect and

send him the most curious and finished works, especially those

of Pamphilus and Melanthus.

For the Sicyonian pieces were still in the height of their

reputation, as being the only ones whose colors were lasting; so

that Apelles himself, even after he had become well known and

admired, went thither, and gave a talent to be admitted into the

society of the painters there, not so much to partake of their

skill, which he wanted not, but of their credit.  And

accordingly Aratus, when he freed the city, immediately took

down the representations of the rest of the tyrants, but

demurred a long time about that of Aristratus, who flourished in

the time of Philip.  For this Aristratus was painted by

Melanthus and his scholars, standing by a chariot, in which a

figure of Victory was carried, Apelles himself having had a

hand in it, as Polemon the geographer reports.  It was an

extraordinary piece, and therefore Aratus was fain to spare it

for the workmanship, and yet, instigated by the hatred he bore

the tyrants, commanded it to be taken down.  But Nealces the

painter, one of Aratus's friends, entreated him, it is said,

with tears in his eyes, to spare it, and, finding he did not

prevail with him, told him at last he should carry on his war

with the tyrants, but with the tyrants alone: "Let therefore the

chariot and the Victory stand, and I will take means for the

removal of Aristratus;" to which Aratus consenting, Nealces

blotted out Aristratus, and in his place painted a palm-tree,

not daring to add anything else of his own invention.  The feet

of the defaced figure of Aristratus are said to have escaped

notice, and to be hid under the chariot.  By these means Aratus

got favor with the king, who, after he was more fully acquainted

with him, loved him so much the more, and gave him for the

relief of his city one hundred and fifty talents; forty of which

he immediately carried away with him, when he sailed to

Peloponnesus, but the rest the king divided into installments,

and sent them to him afterwards at different times.

Assuredly it was a great thing to procure for his

fellow-citizens a sum of money, a small portion of which had

been sufficient, when presented by a king to other captains and

popular leaders, to induce them to turn dishonest, and betray

and give away their native countries to him.  But it was a much

greater, that by means of this money he effected a

reconciliation and good understanding between the rich and poor,

and created quiet and security for the whole people.  His

moderation, also, amidst so great power was very admirable.  For

being declared sole arbitrator and plenipotentiary for settling

the questions of property in the case of the exiles, he would

not accept the commission alone, but, associating with himself

fifteen of the citizens, with great pains and trouble he

succeeded in adjusting matters, and established peace and

good-will in the city, for which good service, not only all the

citizens in general bestowed extraordinary honors upon him, but

the exiles, apart by themselves, erecting his statue in brass,

inscribed on it these elegiac verses: —

Your counsels, deeds, and skill for Greece in war

Known beyond Hercules's pillars are;

But we this image, O Aratus, gave

Of you who saved us, to the gods who save,

By you from exile to our homes restored,

That virtue and that justice to record,

To which the blessing Sicyon owes this day

Of wealth that's shared alike, and laws that all obey.

By his success in effecting these things, Aratus secured himself

from the envy of his fellow-citizens, on account of the benefits

they felt he had done them; but king Antigonus being troubled in

his mind about him, and designing either wholly to bring him

over to his party, or else to make him suspected by Ptolemy,

besides other marks of his favor shown to him, who had little

mind to receive them, added this too, that, sacrificing to the

gods in Corinth, he sent portions to Aratus at Sicyon, and at

the feast, where were many guests, he said openly, "I thought

this Sicyonian youth had been only a lover of liberty and of his

fellow-citizens, but now I look upon him as a good judge of the

manners and actions of kings.  For formerly he despised us, and,

placing his hopes further off, admired the Egyptian riches,

hearing so much of their elephants, fleets, and palaces.  But

after seeing all these at a nearer distance, perceiving them to

be but mere stage show and pageantry, he is now come over to us.

And for my part I willingly receive him, and, resolving to make

great use of him myself, command you to look upon him as a

friend."  These words were soon taken hold of by those that

envied and maligned him, who strove which of them should, in

their letters to Ptolemy, attack him with the worst calumnies,

so that Ptolemy sent to expostulate the matter with him; so much

envy and ill-will did there always attend the so much contended

for, and so ardently and passionately aspired to, friendships of

princes and great men.

But Aratus, being now for the first time chosen general of the

Achaeans, ravaged the country of Locris and Calydon, just over

against Achaea, and then went to assist the Boeotians with ten

thousand soldiers, but came not up to them until after the

battle near Chaeronea had been fought, in which they were beaten

by the Aetolians, with the loss of Aboeocritus the Boeotarch,

and a thousand men besides.  A year after, being again elected

general, he resolved to attempt the capture of the

Acro-Corinthus, not so much for the advantage of the Sicyonians

or Achaeans, as considering that by expelling the Macedonian

garrison he should free all Greece alike from a tyranny which

oppressed every part of her.  Chares the Athenian, having the

good fortune to get the better, in a certain battle, of the

king's generals, wrote to the people of Athens that this victory

was "sister to that at Marathon."  And so may this action be

very safely termed sister to those of Pelopidas the Theban and

Thrasybulus the Athenian, in which they slew the tyrants;

except, perhaps, it exceed them upon this account, that it was

not against natural Grecians, but against a foreign and stranger

domination.  The Isthmus, rising like a bank between the seas,

collects into a single spot and compresses together the whole

continent of Greece; and Acro-Corinthus, being a high mountain

springing up out of the very middle of what here is Greece,

whensoever it is held with a garrison, stands in the way and

cuts off all Peloponnesus from intercourse of every kind, free

passage of men and arms, and all traffic by sea and land, and

makes him lord of all, that is master of it.  Wherefore the

younger Philip did not jest, but said very true, when he called

the city of Corinth "the fetters of Greece."  So that this post

was always much contended for, especially by the kings and

tyrants; and so vehemently was it longed for by Antigonus, that

his passion for it came little short of that of frantic love; he

was continually occupied with devising how to take it by

surprise from those that were then masters of it, since he

despaired to do it by open force.

Therefore Alexander, who held the place, being dead, poisoned by

him, as is reported, and his wife Nicaea succeeding in the

government and the possession of Acro-Corinthus, he immediately

made use of his son, Demetrius, and, giving her pleasing hopes

of a royal marriage and of a happy life with a youth, whom a

woman now growing old might well find agreeable, with this lure

of his son he succeeded in taking her; but the place itself she

did not deliver up, but continued to hold it with a very strong

garrison, of which he seeming to take no notice, celebrated the

wedding in Corinth, entertaining them with shows and banquets

everyday, as one that has nothing else in his mind but to give

himself up for awhile to indulgence in pleasure and mirth.  But

when the moment came, and Amoebeus began to sing in the theater,

he waited himself upon Nicaea to the play, she being carried in

a royally-decorated chair, extremely pleased with her new honor,

not dreaming of what was intended.  As soon, therefore, as they

were come to the turning which led up to the citadel, he desired

her to go on before him to the theater, but for himself, bidding

farewell to the music, farewell to the wedding, he went on

faster than one would have thought his age would have admitted

to the Acro-Corinthus, and, finding the gate shut, knocked with

his staff, commanding them to open, which they within, being

amazed, did.  And having thus made himself master of the place,

he could not contain himself for joy; but, though an old man,

and one that had seen so many turns of fortune, he must needs

revel it in the open streets and the midst of the market-place,

crowned with garlands and attended with flute-women, inviting

everybody he met to partake in his festivity.  So much more does

joy without discretion transport and agitate the mind than

either fear or sorrow.  Antigonus, therefore, having in this

manner possessed himself of Acro-Corinthus, put a garrison into

it of those he trusted most, making Persaeus the philosopher

governor.

Now Aratus, even in the lifetime of Alexander, had made an

attempt, but, a confederacy being made between Alexander and the

Achaeans, he desisted.  But now he started afresh, with a new

plan of effecting the thing, which was this: there were in

Corinth four brothers, Syrians born, one of whom, called

Diocles, served as a soldier in the garrison, but the three

others, having stolen some gold of the king's, came to Sicyon,

to one Aegias, a banker, whom Aratus made use of in his

business.  To him they immediately sold part of their gold, and

the rest one of them, called Erginus, coming often thither,

exchanged by parcels.  Becoming, by this means, familiarly

acquainted with Aegias, and being by him led into discourses

concerning the fortress, he told him that in going up to his

brother he had observed, in the face of the rock, a side-cleft,

leading to that part of the wall of the castle which was lower

than the rest.  At which Aegias joking with him and saying, "So,

you wise man, for the sake of a little gold you have broken into

the king's treasure; when you might, if you chose, get money in

abundance for a single hour's work, burglary, you know, and

treason being punished with the same death," Erginus laughed and

told him then, he would break the thing to Diocles (for he did

not altogether trust his other brothers), and, returning within

a few days, he bargained to conduct Aratus to that part of the

wall where it was no more than fifteen feet high, and to do what

else should be necessary, together with his brother Diocles.

Aratus, therefore, agreed to give them sixty talents if he

succeeded, but if he failed in his enterprise, and yet he and

they came off safe, then he would give each of them a house and

a talent.  Now the threescore talents being to be deposited in

the hands of Aegias for Erginus and his partners, and Aratus

neither having so much by him, nor willing, by borrowing it from

others, to give anyone a suspicion of his design, he pawned his

plate and his wife's golden ornaments to Aegias for the money.

For so high was his temper, and so strong his passion for noble

actions, that, even as he had heard that Phocion and Epaminondas

were the best and justest of the Greeks, because they refused

the greatest presents and would not surrender their duty for

money, so he now chose to be at the expense of this enterprise

privately, and to advance all the cost out of his own property,

taking the whole hazard on himself for the sake of the rest that

did not so much as know what was doing.  And who indeed can

withhold, even now, his admiration for and his sympathy with the

generous mind of one, who paid so largely to purchase so great a

risk, and lent out his richest possessions to have an

opportunity to expose his own life, by entering among his

enemies in the dead of the night, without desiring any other

security for them than the hope of a noble success.

Now the enterprise, though dangerous enough in itself, was made

much more so by an error happening through mistake in the very

beginning.  For Technon, one of Aratus's servants, was sent away

to Diocles, that they might together view the wall.  Now he had

never seen Diocles, but made no question of knowing him by the

marks Erginus had given him of him; namely, that he had curly

hair, a swarthy complexion, and no beard.  Being come,

therefore, to the appointed place, he stayed waiting for Erginus

and Diocles outside the town, in front of the place called

Ornis.  In the meantime, Dionysius, elder brother to Erginus and

Diocles, who knew nothing at all of the matter, but much

resembled Diocles, happened to pass by.  Technon, upon this

likeness, all being in accordance with what he had been told,

asked him if he knew Erginus; and on his replying that he was

his brother, taking it for granted that he was speaking with

Diocles, not so much as asking his name or staying for any other

token, he gave him his hand, and began to discourse with him and

ask him questions about matters agreed upon with Erginus.

Dionysius, cunningly taking the advantage of his mistake, seemed

to understand him very well, and returning towards the city, led

him on, still talking, without any suspicion.  And being now

near the gate, he was just about to seize on him, when by chance

again Erginus met them, and, apprehending the cheat and the

danger, beckoned to Technon to make his escape, and immediately

both of them, betaking themselves to their heels, ran away as

fast as they could to Aratus, who for all this despaired not,

but immediately sent away Erginus to Dionysius to bribe him to

hold his tongue.  And he not only effected that, but also

brought him along with him to Aratus.  But, when they had him,

they no longer left him at liberty, but binding him, they kept

him close shut up in a room, whilst they prepared for executing

their design.

All things being now ready, he commanded the rest of his forces

to pass the night by their arms, and taking with him four

hundred chosen men, few of whom knew what they were going about,

he led them to the gates by the temple of Juno.  It was the

midst of summer, and the moon was at full, and the night so

clear without any clouds, that there was danger lest the arms

glistening in the moonlight should discover them.  But as the

foremost of them came near the city, a mist came off from the

sea, and darkened the city itself and the outskirts about it.

Then the rest of them, sitting down, put off their shoes,

because men both make less noise and also climb surer, if they

go up ladders barefooted, but Erginus, taking with him seven

young men dressed like travelers, got unobserved to the gate,

and killed the sentry with the other guards.  And at the same

time the ladders were clapped to the walls, and Aratus, having

in great haste got up a hundred men, commended the rest to

follow as they could, and immediately drawing up his ladders

after him, he marched through the city with his hundred men

towards the castle, being already overjoyed that he was

undiscovered, and not doubting of the success.  But while still

they were some way off, a watch of four men came with a light,

who did not see them, because they were still in the shade of

the moon, but were seen plainly enough themselves as they came

on directly towards them.  So withdrawing a little way amongst

some walls and plots for houses, they lay in wait for them; and

three of them they killed.  But the fourth, being wounded in the

head with a sword, fled, crying out that the enemy was in the

city.  And immediately the trumpets sounded, and all the city

was in an uproar at what had happened, and the streets were full

of people running up and down, and many lights were seen shining

both below in the town, and above in the castle, and a confused

noise was to be heard in all parts.

In the meantime, Aratus was hard at work struggling to get up

the rocks, at first slowly and with much difficulty, straying

continually from the path, which lay deep, and was overshadowed

with the crags, leading to the wall with many windings and

turnings; but the moon immediately and as if by miracle, it is

said, dispersing the clouds, shone out and gave light to the

most difficult part of the way, until he got to that part of the

wall he desired, and there she overshadowed and hid him, the

clouds coming together again.  Those soldiers whom Aratus had

left outside the gate, near Juno's temple, to the number of

three hundred, entering the town, now full of tumult and lights,

and not knowing the way by which the former had gone, and

finding no track of them, slunk aside, and crowded together in

one body under a flank of the cliff that cast a strong shadow,

and there stood and waited in great distress and perplexity.

For, by this time, those that had gone with Aratus were attacked

with missiles from the citadel, and were busy fighting, and a

sound of cries of battle came down from above, and a loud noise,

echoed back and back from the mountain sides, and therefore

confused and uncertain whence it proceeded, was heard on all

sides.  They being thus in doubt which way to turn themselves,

Archelaus, the commander of Antigonus's troops, having a great

number of soldiers with him, made up towards the castle with

great shouts and noise of trumpets to fall upon Aratus's people,

and passed by the three hundred, who, as if they had risen out

of an ambush, immediately charged him, killing the first they

encountered, and so affrighted the rest, together with

Archelaus, that they put them to flight and pursued them until

they had quite broke and dispersed them about the city.  No

sooner were these defeated, but Erginus came to them from those

that were fighting above, to acquaint them that Aratus was

engaged with the enemy, who defended themselves very stoutly,

and there was a fierce conflict at the very wall, and need of

speedy help.  They therefore desired him to lead them on without

delay, and, marching up, they by their shouts made their friends

understand who they were, and encouraged them; and the full

moon, shining on their arms, made them, in the long line by

which they advanced, appear more in number to the enemy than

they were; and the echo of the night multiplied their shouts.

In short, falling on with the rest, they made the enemy give

way, and were masters of the castle and garrison, day now

beginning to be bright, and the rising sun shining out upon

their success.  By this time, also, the rest of his army came up

to Aratus from Sicyon, the Corinthians joyfully receiving them

at the gates and helping them to secure the king's party.

And now, having put all things into a safe posture, he came down

from the castle to the theater, an infinite number of people

crowding thither to see him and to hear what he would say to the

Corinthians.  Therefore drawing up the Achaeans on each side of

the stage-passages, he came forward himself upon the stage, with

his corslet still on, and his face showing the effects of all

his hard work and want of sleep, so that his natural exultation

and joyfulness of mind were overborne by the weariness of his

body.  The people, as soon as he came forth, breaking out into

great applauses and congratulations, he took his spear in his

right hand, and, resting his body upon it with his knee a little

bent, stood a good while in that posture, silently receiving

their shouts and acclamations, while they extolled his valor and

wondered at his fortune; which being over, standing up, he

began an oration in the name of the Achaeans, suitable to the

late action, persuading the Corinthians to associate themselves

to the Achaeans, and withal delivered up to them the keys of

their gates, which had never been in their power since the time

of king Philip.  Of the captains of Antigonus, he dismissed

Archelaus, whom he had taken prisoner, and Theophrastus, who

refused to quit his post, he put to death.  As for Persaeus,

when he saw the castle was lost, he had got away to Cenchreae,

where, some time after, discoursing with one that said to him

that the wise man only is a true general, "Indeed," he replied,

"none of Zeno's maxims once pleased me better than this, but I

have been converted to another opinion by the young man of

Sicyon."  This is told by many of Persaeus.  Aratus, immediately

after, made himself master of the temple of Juno and haven of

Lechaeum, seized upon five and twenty of the king's ships,

together with five hundred horses and four hundred Syrians;

these he sold.  The Achaeans kept guard in the Acro-Corinthus

with a body of four hundred soldiers, and fifty dogs with as

many keepers.

The Romans, extolling Philopoemen, called him the last of the

Grecians, as if no great man had ever since his time been bred

amongst them.  But I should call this capture of the

Acro-Corinthus the last of the Grecian exploits, being

comparable to the best of them, both for the daringness of it,

and the success, as was presently seen by the consequences.  For

the Megarians, revolting from Antigonus, joined Aratus, and the

Troezenians and Epidaurians enrolled themselves in the Achaean

community, and issuing forth for the first time, he entered

Attica, and passing over into Salamis, he plundered the island,

turning the Achaean force every way, as if it were just let

loose out of prison and set at liberty.  All freemen whom he

took he sent back to the Athenians without ransom, as a sort of

first invitation to them to come over to the league.  He made

Ptolemy become a confederate of the Achaeans, with the privilege

of command both by sea and land.  And so great was his power

with them, that since he could not by law be chosen their

general every year, yet every other year he was, and by his

counsels and actions was in effect always so.  For they

perceived that neither riches nor reputation, nor the friendship

of kings, nor the private interest of his own country, nor

anything else was so dear to him as the increase of the Achaean

power and greatness.  For he believed that the cities, weak

individually, could be preserved by nothing else but a mutual

assistance under the closest bond of the common interest; and,

as the members of the body live and breathe by the union of all

in a single natural growth, and on the dissolution of this, when

once they separate, pine away and putrefy, in the same manner

are cities ruined by being dissevered, as well as preserved

when, as the members of one great body they enjoy the benefit of

that providence and counsel that govern the whole.

Now being distressed to see that, whereas the chief neighboring

cities enjoyed their own laws and liberties, the Argives were in

bondage, he took counsel for destroying their tyrant

Aristomachus, being very desirous both to pay his debt of

gratitude to the city where he had been bred up, by restoring it

its liberty, and to add so considerable a town to the Achaeans.

Nor were there some wanting who had the courage to undertake the

thing, of whom Aeschylus and Charimenes the soothsayer were the

chief.  But they wanted swords; for the tyrant had prohibited

the keeping of any under a great penalty.  Therefore Aratus,

having provided some small daggers at Corinth and hidden them in

the pack-saddles of some pack-horses that carried ordinary ware,

sent them to Argos.  But Charimenes letting another person into

the design, Aeschylus and his partners were angry at it, and

henceforth would have no more to do with him, and took their

measures by themselves, and Charimenes, on finding this, went,

out of anger, and informed against them, just as they were on

their way to attack the tyrant; however, the most of them made a

shift to escape out of the marketplace, and fled to Corinth.

Not long after, Aristomachus was slain by some slaves, and

Aristippus, a worse tyrant than he, seized the government.

Upon this, Aratus, mustering all the Achaeans present that were

of age, hurried away to the aid of the city, believing that he

should find the people ready to join with him.  But the greater

number being by this time habituated to slavery and content to

submit, and no one coming to join him, he was obliged to retire,

having moreover exposed the Achaeans to the charge of committing

acts of hostility in the midst of peace; upon which account they

were sued before the Mantineans, and, Aratus not making his

appearance, Aristippus gained the cause, and had damages allowed

him to the value of thirty minae.  And now hating and fearing

Aratus, he sought means to kill him, having the assistance

herein of king Antigonus; so that Aratus was perpetually dogged

and watched by those that waited for an opportunity to do this

service.  But there is no such safeguard of a ruler as the

sincere and steady good-will of his subjects, for, where both

the common people and the principal citizens have their fears

not of but for their governor, he sees with many eyes and hears

with many ears whatsoever is doing.  Therefore I cannot but here

stop short a little in the course of my narrative, to describe

the manner of life which the so much envied arbitrary power and

the so much celebrated and admired pomp and pride of absolute

government obliged Aristippus to lead.

For though Antigonus was his friend and ally, and though he

maintained numerous soldiers to act as his body-guard, and had

not left one enemy of his alive in the city, yet he was forced

to make his guards encamp in the colonnade about his house; and

for his servants, he turned them all out immediately after

supper, and then shutting the doors upon them, he crept up into

a small upper chamber, together with his mistress, through a

trapdoor, upon which he placed his bed, and there slept after:

such a fashion, as one in his condition can be supposed to

sleep, that is, interruptedly and in fear.  The ladder was taken

away by the woman's mother, and locked up in another room; in

the morning she brought it again, and putting it to, called up

this brave and wonderful tyrant, who came crawling out like some

creeping thing out of its hole.  Whereas Aratus, not by force of

arms, but lawfully and by his virtue, lived in possession of a

firmly settled command, wearing the ordinary coat and cloak,

being the common and declared enemy of all tyrants, and has left

behind him a noble race of descendants surviving among the

Grecians to this day; while those occupiers of citadels and

maintainers of bodyguards, who made all this use of arms and

gates and bolts to protect their lives, in some few cases

perhaps escaped, like the hare from the hunters; but in no

instance have we either house or family, or so much as a tomb to

which any respect is shown, remaining to preserve the memory of

any one of them.

Against this Aristippus, therefore, Aratus made many open and

many secret attempts, whilst he endeavored to take Argos, though

without success; once, particularly, clapping scaling ladders in

the night to the wall, he desperately got up upon it with a few

of his soldiers, and killed the guards that opposed him.  But

the day appearing, the tyrant set upon him on all hands, whilst

the Argives, as if it had not been their liberty that was

contended for, but some Nemean game going on for which it was

their privilege to assign the prize, like fair and impartial

judges, sat looking on in great quietness.  Aratus, fighting

bravely, was run through the thigh with a lance, yet he

maintained his ground against the enemy till night, and, had he

been able to go on and hold out that night also, he had gained

his point; for the tyrant thought of nothing but flying, and had

already shipped most of his goods.  But Aratus, having no

intelligence of this, and wanting water, being disabled himself

by his wound, retreated with his soldiers.

Despairing henceforth to do any good this way, he fell openly

with his army into Argolis, and plundered it, and, in a fierce

battle with Aristippus near the river Chares, he was accused of

having withdrawn out of the fight, and thereby abandoned the

victory.  For whereas one part of his army had unmistakably got

the better, and was pursuing the enemy at a good distance from

him, he yet retreated in confusion into his camp, not so much

because he was overpressed by those with whom he was engaged, as

out of mistrust of success and through a panic fear.  But when the

other wing, returning from the pursuit, showed themselves

extremely vexed, that though they had put the enemy to flight

and killed many more of his men than they had lost, yet those

that were in a manner conquered should erect a trophy as

conquerors, being much ashamed he resolved to fight them again

about the trophy, and the next day but one drew up his army to

give them battle.  But, perceiving that they were reinforced

with fresh troops, and came on with better courage than before,

he durst not hazard a fight, but retired, and sent to request a

truce to bury his dead.  However, by his dexterity in dealing

personally with men and managing political affairs, and by his

general favor, he excused and obliterated this fault, and

brought in Cleonae to the Achaean association, and celebrated

the Nemean games at Cleonae, as the proper and more ancient

place for them.  The games were also celebrated by the Argives at

the same time, which gave the first occasion to the violation of

the privilege of safe conduct and immunity always granted to

those that came to compete for the prizes, the Achaeans at that

time selling as enemies all those they caught going through

their country after joining in the games at Argos.  So vehement

and implacable a hater was he of the tyrants.

Not long after, having notice that Aristippus had a design upon

Cleonae, but was afraid of him, because he then was staying in

Corinth, he assembled an army by public proclamation, and,

commanding them to take along with them provision for several

days, he marched to Cenchreae, hoping by this stratagem to

entice Aristippus to fall upon Cleonae, when he supposed him far

enough off.  And so it happened, for he immediately brought his

forces against it from Argos.  But Aratus, returning from

Cenchreae to Corinth in the dusk of the evening, and setting

posts of his troops in all the roads, led on the Achaeans, who

followed him in such good order and with so much speed and

alacrity, that they were undiscovered by Aristippus, not only

whilst upon their march, but even when they got, still in the

night, into Cleonae, and drew up in order of battle.  As soon as

it was morning, the gates being opened and the trumpets

sounding, he fell upon the enemy with great cries and fury,

routed them at once, and kept close in pursuit, following the

course which he most imagined Aristippus would choose, there

being many turns that might be taken.  And so the chase lasted

as far as Mycenae, where the tyrant was slain by a certain

Cretan called Tragiscus, as Dinias reports.  Of the common

soldiers, there fell above fifteen hundred.  Yet though Aratus

had obtained so great a victory, and that too without the loss

of a man, he could not make himself master of Argos nor set it

at liberty, because Agias and the younger Aristomachus got into

the town with some of the king's forces, and seized upon the

government.  However, by this exploit he spoiled the scoffs and

jests of those that flattered the tyrants, and in their raillery

would say that the Achaean general was usually troubled with a

looseness when he was to fight a battle, that the sound of a

trumpet struck him with a drowsiness and a giddiness, and that,

when he had drawn up his army and given the word, he used to ask

his lieutenants and officers whether there was any further need

of his presence now the die was cast, and then went aloof, to

await the result at a distance.  For indeed these stories were

so generally listened to, that, when the philosophers disputed

whether to have one's heart beat and to change color upon any

apparent danger be an argument of fear, or rather of some

distemperature and chilliness of bodily constitution, Aratus was

always quoted as a good general, who was always thus affected

ill time of battle.

Having thus dispatched Aristippus, he advised with himself how

to overthrow Lydiades, the Megalopolitan, who held usurped power

over his country.  This person was naturally of a generous

temper, and not insensible of true honor, and had been led into

this wickedness, not by the ordinary motives of other tyrants,

licentiousness and rapacity, but being young, and stimulated

with the desire of glory, he had let his mind be unwarily

prepossessed with the vain and false applauses given to tyranny,

as some happy and glorious thing.  But he no sooner seized the

government, than he grew weary of the pomp and burden of it.

And at once emulating the tranquillity and fearing the policy of

Aratus, he took the best of resolutions, first, to free himself

from hatred and fear, from soldiers and guards, and, secondly,

to be the public benefactor of his country.  And sending for

Aratus, he resigned the government, and incorporated his city

into the Achaean community.  The Achaeans, applauding this

generous action, chose him their general; upon which, desiring

to outdo Aratus in glory, amongst many other uncalled-for

things, he declared war against the Lacedaemonians; which Aratus

opposing was thought to do it out of envy; and Lydiades was the

second time chosen general, though Aratus acted openly against

him, and labored to have the office conferred upon another.  For

Aratus himself had the command every other year, as has been

said.  Lydiades, however, succeeded so well in his pretensions,

that he was thrice chosen general, governing alternately, as did

Aratus; but at last, declaring himself his professed enemy, and

accusing him frequently to the Achaeans, he was rejected, and

fell into contempt, people now seeing that it was a contest

between a counterfeit and a true, unadulterated virtue, and, as

Aesop tells us that the cuckoo once, asking the little birds why

they flew away from her, was answered, because they feared she

would one day prove a hawk, so Lydiades's former tyranny still

cast a doubt upon the reality of his change.

But Aratus gained new honor in the Aetolian war.  For the

Achaeans resolving to fall upon the Aetolians on the Megarian

confines, and Agis also, the Lacedaemonian king, who came to

their assistance with an army, encouraging them to fight, Aratus

opposed this determination.  And patiently enduring many

reproaches, many scoffs and jeerings at his soft and cowardly

temper, he would not, for any appearance of disgrace, abandon

what he judged to be the true common advantage, and suffered the

enemy to pass over Geranea into Peloponnesus without a battle.

But when, after they had passed by, news came that they had

suddenly captured Pellene, he was no longer the same man, nor

would he hear of any delay, or wait to draw together his whole

force, but marched towards the enemy with such as he had about

him to fall upon them, as they were indeed now much less

formidable through the intemperances and disorders committed in

their success.  For as soon as they entered the city, the common

soldiers dispersed and went hither and thither into the houses,

quarreling and fighting with one another about the plunder; and

the officers and commanders were running about after the wives

and daughters of the Pellenians, on whose heads they put their

own helmets, to mark each man his prize, and prevent another

from seizing it.  And in this posture were they when news came

that Aratus was ready to fall upon them.  And in the midst of

the consternation likely to ensue in the confusion they were in,

before all of them heard of the danger, the outmost of them,

engaging at the gates and in the suburbs with the Achaeans, were

already beaten and put to flight, and, as they came headlong

back, filled with their panic those who were collecting and

advancing to their assistance.

In this confusion, one of the captives, daughter of Epigethes, a

citizen of repute, being extremely handsome and tall, happened

to be sitting in the temple of Diana, placed there by the

commander of the band of chosen men, who had taken her and put

his crested helmet upon her.  She, hearing the noise, and

running out to see what was the matter, stood in the temple

gates, looking down from above upon those that fought, having

the helmet upon her head; in which posture she seemed to the

citizens to be something more than human, and struck fear and

dread into the enemy, who believed it to be a divine apparition;

so that they lost all courage to defend themselves.  But the

Pellenians tell us that the image of Diana stands usually

untouched, and when the priestess happens at any time to remove

it to some other place, nobody dares look upon it, but all turn

their faces from it; for not only is the sight of it terrible

and hurtful to mankind, but it makes even the trees, by which it

happens to be carried, become barren and cast their fruit.  This

image, therefore, they say, the priestess produced at that time,

and, holding it directly in the faces of the Aetolians, made

them lose their reason and judgment.  But Aratus mentions no

such thing in his commentaries, but says, that, having put to

flight the Aetolians, and falling in pell-mell with them into

the city, he drove them out by main force, and killed seven

hundred of them.  And the action was extolled as one of the most

famous exploits, and Timanthes the painter made a picture of the

battle, giving by his composition a most lively representation

of it.

But many great nations and potentates combining against the

Achaeans, Aratus immediately treated for friendly arrangements

with the Aetolians, and, making use of the assistance of

Pantaleon, the most powerful man amongst them, he not only made

a peace, but an alliance between them and the Achaeans.  But

being desirous to free the Athenians, he got into disgrace and

ill-repute among the Achaeans, because, notwithstanding the

truce and suspension of arms made between them and the

Macedonians, he had attempted to take the Piraeus.  He denies

this fact in his commentaries, and lays the blame on Erginus, by

whose assistance he took Acro-Corinthus, alleging that he upon

his own private account attacked the Piraeus, and, his ladders

happening to break, being hotly pursued, he called out upon

Aratus as if present, by which means deceiving the enemy, he got

safely off.  This excuse, however, sounds very improbable; for it

is not in any way likely that Erginus, a private man and a

Syrian stranger, should conceive in his mind so great an

attempt, without Aratus at his back, to tell him how and when to

make it, and to supply him with the means.  Nor was it twice or

thrice, but very often, that, like an obstinate lover, he

repeated his attempts on the Piraeus, and was so far from being

discouraged by his disappointments, that his missing his hopes

but narrowly was an incentive to him to proceed the more boldly

in a new trial.  One time amongst the rest, in making his escape

through the Thriasian plain, he put his leg out of joint, and

was forced to submit to many operations with the knife before he

was cured, so that for a long time he was carried in a litter to

the wars.

And when Antigonus was dead, and Demetrius succeeded him in the

kingdom, he was more bent than ever upon Athens, and in general

quite despised the Macedonians.  And so, being overthrown in

battle near Phylacia by Bithys, Demetrius's general, and there

being a very strong report that he was either taken or slain,

Diogenes, the governor of the Piraeus, sent letters to Corinth,

commanding the Achaeans to quit that city, seeing Aratus was

dead.  When these letters came to Corinth, Aratus happened to be

there in person, so that Diogenes's messengers, being

sufficiently mocked and derided, were forced to return to their

master.  King Demetrius himself also sent a ship, wherein

Aratus was to be brought to him in chains.  And the Athenians,

exceeding all possible fickleness of flattery to the

Macedonians, crowned themselves with garlands upon the first

news of his death.  And so in anger he went at once and invaded

Attica, and penetrated as far as the Academy, but then suffering

himself to be pacified, he did no further act of hostility.  And

the Athenians afterwards, coming to a due sense of his virtue,

when upon the death of Demetrius they attempted to recover their

liberty, called him in to their assistance; and although at that

time another person was general of the Achaeans, and he himself

had long kept his bed with a sickness, yet, rather than fail the

city in a time of need, he was carried thither in a litter, and

helped to persuade Diogenes the governor to deliver up the

Piraeus, Munychia, Salamis, and Sunium to the Athenians in

consideration of a hundred and fifty talents, of which Aratus

himself contributed twenty to the city.  Upon this, the

Aeginetans and the Hermionians immediately joined the Achaeans,

and the greatest part of Arcadia entered their confederacy; and

the Macedonians being occupied with various wars upon their own

confines and with their neighbors, the Achaean power, the

Aetolians also being in alliance with them, rose to great

height.

But Aratus, still bent on effecting his old project, and

impatient that tyranny should maintain itself in so near a city

as Argos, sent to Aristomachus to persuade him to restore

liberty to that city, and to associate it to the Achaeans, and

that, following Lydiades's example, he should rather choose to

be the general of a great nation, with esteem and honor, than

the tyrant of one city, with continual hatred and danger.

Aristomachus slighted not the message, but desired Aratus to

send him fifty talents, with which he might pay off the

soldiers.  In the meantime, whilst the money was providing,

Lydiades, being then general, and extremely ambitious that this

advantage might seem to be of his procuring for the Achaeans,

accused Aratus to Aristomachus, as one that bore an

irreconcilable hatred to the tyrants, and, persuading him to

commit the affair to his management, he presented him to the

Achaeans.  But there the Achaean council gave a manifest proof

of the great credit Aratus had with them and the good-will they

bore him.  For when he, in anger, spoke against Aristomachus's

being admitted into the association, they rejected the proposal,

but when he was afterwards pacified and came himself and spoke

in its favor, they voted everything cheerfully and readily, and

decreed that the Argives and Phliasians should be incorporated

into their commonwealth, and the next year they chose

Aristomachus general.  He, being in good credit with the

Achaeans, was very desirous to invade Laconia, and for that

purpose sent for Aratus from Athens.  Aratus wrote to him to

dissuade him as far as he could from that expedition, being very

unwilling the Achaeans should be engaged in a quarrel with

Cleomenes, who was a daring man, and making extraordinary

advances to power.  But Aristomachus resolving to go on, he

obeyed and served in person, on which occasion he hindered

Aristomachus from fighting a battle, when Cleomenes came upon

them at Pallantium; and for this act was accused by Lydiades,

and, coming to an open conflict with him in a contest for the

office of general, he carried it by the show of hands, and was

chosen general the twelfth time.

This year, being routed by Cleomenes near the Lycaeum, he fled,

and, wandering out of the way in the night, was believed to be

slain; and once more it was confidently reported so throughout

all Greece.  He, however, having escaped this danger and rallied

his forces, was not content to march off in safety, but, making

a happy use of the present conjuncture, when nobody dreamed any

such thing, he fell suddenly upon the Mantineans, allies of

Cleomenes, and, taking the city, put a garrison into it, and

made the stranger inhabitants free of the city; procuring, by

this means, those advantages for the beaten Achaeans, which,

being conquerors, they would not easily have obtained.  The

Lacedaemonians again invading the Megalopolitan territories, he

marched to the assistance of the city, but refused to give

Cleomenes, who did all he could to provoke him to it, any

opportunity of engaging him in a battle, nor could be prevailed

upon by the Megalopolitans, who urged him to it extremely.  For

besides that by nature he was ill-suited for set battles, he was

then much inferior in numbers, and was to deal with a daring

leader, still in the heat of youth, while he himself, now past

the prime of courage and come to a chastised ambition, felt it

his business to maintain by prudence the glory, which he had

obtained, and the other was only aspiring to by forwardness and

daring.

So that though the light-armed soldiers had sallied out and

driven the Lacedaemonians as far as their camp, and had come

even to their tents, yet would not Aratus lead his men forward,

but, posting himself in a hollow watercourse in the way thither,

stopped and prevented the citizens from crossing this.

Lydiades, extremely vexed at what was going on, and loading

Aratus with reproaches, entreated the horse that together with

him they would second them that had the enemy in chase, and not

let a certain victory slip out of their hands, nor forsake him

that was going to venture his life for his country.  And being

reinforced with many brave men that turned after him, he charged

the enemy's right wing, and routing it, followed the pursuit

without measure or discretion, letting his eagerness and hopes

of glory tempt him on into broken ground, full of planted fruit

trees and cut up with broad ditches, where, being engaged by

Cleomenes, he fell, fighting gallantly the noblest of battles,

at the gate of his country.  The rest, flying back to their main

body and troubling the ranks of the full-armed infantry, put the

whole army to the rout.  Aratus was extremely blamed, being

suspected to have betrayed Lydiades, and was constrained by the

Achaeans, who withdrew in great anger, to accompany them to

Aegium, where they called a council, and decreed that he should

no longer be furnished with money, nor have any more soldiers

hired for him, but that, if he would make war, he should pay

them himself.

This affront he resented so far as to resolve to give up the

seal and lay down the office of general; but upon second

thoughts he found it best to have patience, and presently

marched with the Achaeans to Orchomenus and fought a battle with

Megistonus, the step-father of Cleomenes, where he got the

victory, killing three hundred men and taking Megistonus

prisoner.  But whereas he used to be chosen general every other

year, when his turn came and he was called to take upon him that

charge, he declined it, and Timoxenus was chosen in his stead.

The true cause of which was not the pique he was alleged to have

taken at the people, but the ill circumstances of the Achaean

affairs.  For Cleomenes did not now invade them gently and

tenderly as hitherto, as one controlled by the civil

authorities, but having killed the Ephors, divided the lands,

and made many of the stranger residents free of the city, he was

responsible to no one in his government; and therefore fell in

good earnest upon the Achaeans, and put forward his claim to the

supreme military command.  Wherefore Aratus is much blamed, that

in a stormy and tempestuous time, like a cowardly pilot, he

should forsake the helm, when it was even perhaps his duty to

have insisted, whether they would or no, on saving them; or if

he thought the Achaean affairs desperate, to have yielded all up

to Cleomenes, and not to have let Peloponnesus fall once again

into barbarism with Macedonian garrisons, and Acro-Corinthus be

occupied with Illyric and Gaulish soldiers, and, under the

specious name of Confederates, to have made those masters of the

cities whom he had held it his business by arms and by policy to

baffle and defeat, and, in the memoirs he left behind him,

loaded with reproaches and insults.  And say that Cleomenes was

arbitrary and tyrannical, yet was he descended from the

Heraclidae, and Sparta was his country, the obscurest citizen of

which deserved to be preferred to the generalship before the

best of the Macedonians by those that had any regard to the

honor of Grecian birth.  Besides, Cleomenes sued for that

command over the Achaeans as one that would return the honor of

that title with real kindnesses to the cities; whereas

Antigonus, being declared absolute general by sea and land,

would not accept the office unless Acro-Corinthus were by

special agreement put into his hands, following the example of

Aesop's hunter; for he would not get up and ride the Achaeans,

who desired him so to do, and offered their backs to him by

embassies and popular decrees, till, by a garrison and hostages,

they had allowed him to bit and bridle them.  Aratus exhausts

all his powers of speech to show the necessity that was upon

him.  But Polybius writes, that long before this, and before

there was any necessity, apprehending the daring temper of

Cleomenes, he communicated secretly with Antigonus, and that he

had beforehand prevailed with the Megalopolitans to press the

Achaeans to crave aid from Antigonus.  For they were the most

harassed by the war, Cleomenes continually plundering and

ransacking their country.  And so writes also Phylarchus, who,

unless seconded by the testimony of Polybius, would not be

altogether credited; for he is seized with enthusiasm when he so

much as speaks a word of Cleomenes, and as if he were pleading,

not writing a history, goes on throughout defending the one and

accusing the other.

The Achaeans, therefore, lost Mantinea, which was recovered by

Cleomenes, and being beaten in a great fight near Hecatombaeum,

so general was the consternation, that they immediately sent to

Cleomenes to desire him to come to Argos and take the command

upon him.  But Aratus, as soon as he understood that he was

coming, and was got as far as Lerna with his troops, fearing

the result, sent ambassadors to him, to request him to come

accompanied with three hundred only, as to friends and

confederates, and, if he mistrusted anything, he should receive

hostages.  Upon which Cleomenes, saying this was mere mockery

and affront, went away, sending a letter to the Achaeans full of

reproaches and accusation against Aratus.  And Aratus also wrote

letters against Cleomenes; and bitter revilings and railleries

were current on both hands, not sparing even their marriages and

wives.  Hereupon Cleomenes sent a herald to declare war against

the Achaeans, and in the meantime missed very narrowly of

taking Sicyon by treachery.  Turning off at a little distance,

he attacked and took Pellene, which the Achaean general

abandoned, and not long after took also Pheneus and Penteleum.

Then immediately the Argives voluntarily joined with him, and

the Phliasians received a garrison, and in short nothing among

all their new acquisitions held firm to the Achaeans.  Aratus

was encompassed on every side with clamor and confusion; he saw

the whole of Peloponnesus shaking around him, and the cities

everywhere set in revolt by men desirous of innovations.

For indeed no place remained quiet or satisfied with the present

condition; even amongst the Sicyonians and Corinthians

themselves, many were well known to have had private conferences

with Cleomenes, who long since, out of desire to make themselves

masters of their several cities, had been discontented with the

present order of things.  Aratus, having absolute power given

him to bring these to condign punishment, executed as many of

them as he could find at Sicyon, but going about to find them

out and punish them at Corinth also, he irritated the people,

already unsound in feeling and weary of the Achaean government.

So collecting tumultuously in the temple of Apollo, they sent

for Aratus, having determined to take or kill him before they

broke out into open revolt.  He came accordingly, leading his

horse in his hand, as if he suspected nothing.  Then several

leaping up and accusing and reproaching him, with mild words and

a settled countenance he bade them sit down, and not stand

crying out upon him in a disorderly manner, desiring, also, that

those that were about the door might be let in, and saying so,

he stepped out quietly, as if he would give his horse to

somebody.  Clearing himself thus of the crowd, and speaking

without discomposure to the Corinthians that he met, commanding

them to go to Apollo's temple, and being now, before they were

aware, got near to the citadel, he leaped upon his horse, and

commanding Cleopater, the governor of the garrison, to have a

special care of his charge, he galloped to Sicyon, followed by

thirty of his soldiers, the rest leaving him and shifting for

themselves.  And not long after, it being known that he was

fled, the Corinthians pursued him, but not overtaking him, they

immediately sent for Cleomenes and delivered up the city to him,

who, however, thought nothing they could give was so great a

gain, as was the loss of their having let Aratus get away.

Nevertheless, being strengthened by the accession of the people

of the Acte, as it is called, who put their towns into his

hands, he proceeded to carry a palisade and lines of

circumvallation around the Acro-Corinthus.

But Aratus being arrived at Sicyon, the body of the Achaeans

there flocked to him, and, in an assembly there held, he was

chosen general with absolute power, and he took about him a

guard of his own citizens, it being now three and thirty years

since he first took a part in public affairs among the Achaeans,

having in that time been the chief man in credit and power of

all Greece; but he was now deserted on all hands, helpless and

overpowered, drifting about amidst the waves and danger on the

shattered hulk of his native city.  For the Aetolians, affected

whom he applied to, declined to assist him in his distress, and

the Athenians, who were well affected to him, were diverted from

lending him any succor by the authority of Euclides and Micion.

Now whereas he had a house and property in Corinth, Cleomenes

meddled not with it, nor suffered anybody else to do so, but

calling for his friends and agents, he bade them hold themselves

responsible to Aratus for everything, as to him they would have

to render their account; and privately he sent to him Tripylus,

and afterwards Megistonus, his own stepfather, to offer him,

besides several other things, a yearly pension of twelve

talents, which was twice as much as Ptolemy allowed him, for he

gave him six; and all that he demanded was to be declared

commander of the Achaeans, and together with them to have the

keeping of the citadel of Corinth.  To which Aratus returning

answer that affairs were not so properly in his power as he was

in the power of them, Cleomenes, believing this a mere evasion,

immediately entered the country of Sicyon, destroying all with

fire and sword, and besieged the city three months, whilst

Aratus held firm, and was in dispute with himself whether he

should call in Antigonus upon condition of delivering up the

citadel of Corinth to him; for he would not lend him assistance

upon any other terms.

In the meantime the Achaeans assembled at Aegium, and called for

Aratus; but it was very hazardous for him to pass thither, while

Cleomenes was encamped before Sicyon; besides, the citizens

endeavored to stop him by their entreaties, protesting that they

would not suffer him to expose himself to so evident danger, the

enemy being so near; the women, also, and children hung about

him, weeping and embracing him as their common father and

defender.  But he, having comforted and encouraged them as well

as he could, got on horseback, and being accompanied with ten

of his friends and his son, then a youth, got away to the

sea-side, and finding vessels there waiting off the shore, went

on board of them and sailed to Aegium to the assembly; in which

it was decreed that Antigonus should be called in to their aid,

and should have the Acro-Corinthus delivered to him.  Aratus

also sent his son to him with the other hostages.  The

Corinthians, extremely angry at this proceeding, now plundered

his property, and gave his house as a present to Cleomenes.

Antigonus being now near at hand with his army, consisting of

twenty thousand Macedonian foot and one thousand three hundred

horse, Aratus, with the Members of Council, went to meet him by

sea, and got, unobserved by the enemy, to Pegae, having no great

confidence either in Antigonus or the Macedonians.  For he was

very sensible that his own greatness had been made out of the

losses he had caused them, and that the first great principle of

his public conduct had been hostility to the former Antigonus.

But perceiving the necessity that was now upon him, and the

pressure of the time, that lord and master of those we call

rulers, to be inexorable, he resolved to put all to the venture.

So soon, therefore, as Antigonus was told that Aratus was coming

up to him, he saluted the rest of the company after the ordinary

manner, but him he received at the very first approach with

especial honor, and finding him afterwards to be both good and

wise, admitted him to his nearer familiarity.  For Aratus was

not only useful to him in the management of great affairs, but

singularly agreeable also as the private companion of a king in

his recreations.  And therefore, though Antigonus was young,

yet as soon as he observed the temper of the man to be proper

for a prince's friendship, he made more use of him than of any

other, not only of the Achaeans, but also of the Macedonians

that were about him.  So that the thing fell out to him just as

the god had foreshown in a sacrifice.  For it is related that,

as Aratus was not long before offering sacrifice, there were

found in the liver two gall-bags enclosed in the same caul of

fat; whereupon the soothsayer told him that there should very

soon be the strictest friendship imaginable between him and his

greatest and most mortal enemies; which prediction he at that

time slighted, having in general no great faith in soothsayings

and prognostications, but depending most upon rational

deliberation.  At an after time, however, when, things

succeeding well in the war, Antigonus made a great feast at

Corinth, to which he invited a great number of guests, and

placed Aratus next above himself, and presently calling for a

coverlet, asked him if he did not find it cold, and on Aratus's

answering "Yes, extremely cold," bade him come nearer, so that

when the servants brought the coverlet, they threw it over them

both, then Aratus remembering the sacrifice, fell a laughing,

and told the king the sign which had happened to him, and the

interpretation of it.  But this fell out a good while after.

So Aratus and the king, plighting their faith to each other at

Pegae, immediately marched towards the enemy, with whom they had

frequent engagements near the city, Cleomenes maintaining a

strong position, and the Corinthians making a very brisk

defense.  In the meantime, Aristoteles the Argive, Aratus's

friend, sent privately to him to let him know, that he would

cause Argos to revolt, if he would come thither in person with

some soldiers.  Aratus acquainted Antigonus, and, taking fifteen

hundred men with him, sailed in boats along the shore as quickly

as he could from the Isthmus to Epidaurus.  But the Argives had

not patience till he could arrive, but, making a sudden

insurrection, fell upon Cleomenes's soldiers, and drove them

into the citadel.  Cleomenes having news of this, and fearing

lest, if the enemy should possess themselves of Argos, they

might cut off his retreat home, leaves the Acro-Corinthus and

marches away by night to help his men.  He got thither first,

and beat off the enemy, but Aratus appearing not long after, and

the king approaching with his forces, he retreated to Mantinea,

upon which all the cities again came over to the Achaeans, and

Antigonus took possession of the Acro-Corinthus.  Aratus, being

chosen general by the Argives, persuaded them to make a present

to Antigonus of the property of the tyrants and the traitors.

As for Aristomachus, after having put him to the rack in the

town of Cenchreae, they drowned him in the sea; for which, more

than anything else, Aratus was reproached, that he could suffer

a man to be so lawlessly put to death, who was no bad man, had

been one of his long acquaintance, and at his persuasion had

abdicated his power, and annexed the city to the Achaeans.

And already the blame of the other things that were done began

to be laid to his account; as that they so lightly gave up

Corinth to Antigonus, as if it had been an inconsiderable

village; that they had suffered him, after first sacking

Orchomenus, then to put into it a Macedonian garrison; that they

made a decree that no letters nor embassy should be sent to any

other king without the consent of Antigonus, that they were

forced to furnish pay and provision for the Macedonian soldiers,

and celebrated sacrifices, processions, and games in honor of

Antigonus, Aratus's citizens setting the example and receiving

Antigonus, who was lodged and entertained at Aratus's house.

All these things they treated as his fault, not knowing that

having once put the reins into Antigonus's hands, and let

himself be borne by the impetus of regal power, he was no longer

master of anything but one single voice, the liberty of which

it was not so very safe for him to use.  For it was very plain

that Aratus was much troubled at several things, as appeared by

the business about the statues.  For Antigonus replaced the

statues of the tyrants of Argos that had been thrown down, and

on the contrary threw down the statues of all those that had

taken the Acro-Corinthus, except that of Aratus, nor could

Aratus, by all his entreaties, dissuade him.  Also, the usage of

the Mantineans by the Achaeans seemed not in accordance with the

Grecian feelings and manners.  For being masters of their city

by the help of Antigonus, they put to death the chief and most

noted men amongst them; and of the rest, some they sold, others

they sent, bound in fetters, into Macedonia, and made slaves of

their wives and children; and of the money thus raised, a third

part they divided among themselves, and the other two thirds

were distributed among the Macedonians.  And this might seem to

have been justified by the law of retaliation; for although it

be a barbarous thing for men of the same nation and blood thus

to deal with one another in their fury, yet necessity makes it,

as Simonides says, sweet and something excusable, being the

proper thing, in the mind's painful and inflamed condition, to

give alleviation and relief.  But for what was afterwards done

to that city, Aratus cannot be defended on any ground either of

reason or necessity.  For the Argives having had the city

bestowed on them by Antigonus, and resolving to people it, he

being then chosen as the new founder, and being general at that

time, decreed that it should no longer be called Mantinea, but

Antigonea, which name it still bears.  So that he may be said to

have been the cause that the old memory of the "beautiful

Mantinea" has been wholly extinguished, and the city to this

day has the name of the destroyer and slayer of its citizens.

After this, Cleomenes, being overthrown in a great battle near

Sellasia, forsook Sparta and fled into Egypt, and Antigonus,

having shown all manner of kindness and fair-dealing to Aratus,

retired into Macedonia.  There, falling sick, he sent Philip,

the heir of the kingdom, into Peloponnesus, being yet scarce a

youth, commanding him to follow above all the counsel of Aratus,

to communicate with the cities through him, and through him to

make acquaintance with the Achaeans; and Aratus, receiving him

accordingly, so managed him as to send him back to Macedon both

well affected to himself and full of desire and ambition to take

an honorable part in the affairs of Greece.

When Antigonus was dead, the Aetolians, despising the sloth and

negligence of the Achaeans, who, having learned to be defended by

other men's valor and to shelter themselves under the Macedonian

arms, lived in ease and without any discipline, now attempted to

interfere in Peloponnesus.  And plundering the land of Patrae

and Dyme in their way, they invaded Messene and ravaged it; at

which Aratus being indignant, and finding that Timoxenus, then

general, was hesitating and letting the time go by, being now on

the point of laying down his office, in which he himself was

chosen to succeed him, he anticipated the proper term by five

days, that he might bring relief to the Messenians.  And

mustering the Achaeans, who were both in their persons

unexercised in arms and in their minds relaxed and averse to

war, he met with a defeat at Caphyae.  Having thus begun the

war, as it seemed, with too much heat and passion, he then ran

into the other extreme, cooling again and desponding so much,

that he let pass and overlooked many fair opportunities of

advantage given by the Aetolians, and allowed them to run riot,

as it were, throughout all Peloponnesus, with all manner of

insolence and licentiousness.  Wherefore, holding forth their

hands once more to the Macedonians, they invited and drew in

Philip to intermeddle in the affairs of Greece, chiefly hoping,

because of his affection and trust that he felt for Aratus, they

should find him easy-tempered, and ready to be managed as they

pleased.

But the king, being now persuaded by Apelles, Megaleas, and

other courtiers, that endeavored to ruin the credit Aratus had

with him, took the side of the contrary faction, and joined them

in canvassing to have Eperatus chosen general by the Achaeans.

But he being altogether scorned by the Achaeans, and, for the

want of Aratus to help, all things going wrong, Philip saw he

had quite mistaken his part, and, turning about and reconciling

himself to Aratus, he was wholly his; and his affairs now going

on favorably both for his power and reputation, he depended upon

him altogether as the author of all his gains in both respects;

Aratus hereby giving a proof to the world that he was as good a

nursing father of a kingdom as he had been of a democracy, for

the actions of the king had in them the touch and color of his

judgment and character.  The moderation which the young man

showed to the Lacedaemonians, who had incurred his displeasure,

and his affability to the Cretans, by which in a few days he

brought over the whole island to his obedience, and his

expedition against the Aetolians, so wonderfully successful,

brought Philip reputation for hearkening to good advice, and to

Aratus for giving it; for which things the king's followers

envying him more than ever and finding they could not prevail

against him by their secret practices, began openly to abuse and

affront him at the banquets and over their wine, with every kind

of petulance and impudence; so that once they threw stones at

him as he was going back from supper to his tent.  At which

Philip being much offended, immediately fined them twenty

talents; and finding afterwards that they still went on

disturbing matters and doing mischief in his affairs, he put

them to death.

But with his run of good success, prosperity began to puff him

up, and various extravagant desires began to spring and show

themselves in his mind; and his natural bad inclinations,

breaking through the artificial restraints he had put upon them,

in a little time laid open and discovered his true and proper

character.  And in the first place, he privately injured the

younger Aratus in his wife, which was not known of a good while,

because he was lodged and entertained at their house; then he

began to be more rough and untractable in the domestic politics

of Greece, and showed plainly that he was wishing to shake

himself loose of Aratus.  This the Messenian affairs first gave

occasion to suspect.  For they falling into sedition, and Aratus

being just too late with his succors, Philip, who got into the

city one day before him, at once blew up the flame of contention

amongst them, asking privately, on the one hand, the Messenian

generals, if they had not laws whereby to suppress the insolence

of the common people, and on the other, the leaders of the

people, whether they had not hands to help themselves against

their oppressors.  Upon which gathering courage, the officers

attempted to lay hands on the heads of the people, and they on

the other side, coming upon the officers with the multitude,

killed them, and very near two hundred persons with them.

Philip having committed this wickedness, and doing his best to

set the Messenians by the ears together more than before, Aratus

arrived there, and both showed plainly that he took it ill

himself, and also he suffered his son bitterly to reproach and

revile him.  It should seem that the young man had an attachment

for Philip, and so at this time one of his expressions to him

was, that he no longer appeared to him the handsomest, but the

most deformed of all men, after so foul an action.  To all which

Philip gave him no answer, though he seemed so angry as to make

it expected he would, and though several times he cried out

aloud, while the young man was speaking.  But as for the elder

Aratus, seeming to take all that he said in good part, and as if

he were by nature a politic character and had a good command of

himself, he gave him his hand and led him out of the theater,

and carried him with him to the Ithomatas, to sacrifice there

to Jupiter, and take a view of the place, for it is a post as

fortifiable as the Acro-Corinthus, and, with a garrison in it,

quite as strong and as impregnable to the attacks of all around

it.  Philip therefore went up hither, and having offered

sacrifice, receiving the entrails of the ox with both his hands

from the priest, he showed them to Aratus and Demetrius the

Pharian, presenting them sometimes to the one and sometimes to

the other, asking them what they judged, by the tokens in the

sacrifice, was to be done with the fort; was he to keep it for

himself, or restore it to the Messenians.  Demetrius laughed and

answered, "If you have in you the soul of soothsayer, you will

restore it, but if of a prince, you will hold the ox by both the

horns," meaning to refer to Peloponnesus, which would be wholly

in his power and at his disposal if he added the Ithomatas to

the Acro-Corinthus.  Aratus said not a word for a good while;

but Philip entreating him to declare his opinion, he said "Many

and great hills are there in Crete, and many rocks in Boeotia

and Phocis, and many remarkable strong-holds both near the sea

and in the midland in Acarnania, and yet all these people obey

your orders, though you have not possessed yourself of any one

of those places.  Robbers nest themselves in rocks and

precipices; but the strongest fort a king can have is confidence

and affection.  These have opened to you the Cretan sea; these

make you master of Peloponnesus, and by the help of these, young

as you are, are you become captain of the one, and lord of the

other."  While he was still speaking, Philip returned the

entrails to the priest, and drawing Aratus to him by the hand,

"Come, then," said he, "let us follow the same course;" as if he

felt himself forced by him, and obliged to give up the town.

From this time Aratus began to withdraw from court, and retired

by degrees from Philip's company; when he was preparing to march

into Epirus, and desired him that he would accompany him

thither, he excused himself and stayed at home, apprehending

that he should get nothing but discredit by having anything to

do with his actions.  But when, afterwards, having shamefully

lost his fleet against the Romans and miscarried in all his

designs, he returned into Peloponnesus, where he tried once more

to beguile the Messenians by his artifices, and failing in this,

began openly to attack them and to ravage their country, then

Aratus fell out with him downright, and utterly renounced his

friendship; for he had begun then to be fully aware of the

injuries done to his son in his wife, which vexed him greatly,

though he concealed them from his son, as he could but know he

had been abused, without having any means to revenge himself.

For, indeed, Philip seems to have been an instance of the

greatest and strangest alteration of character; after being a

mild king and modest and chaste youth, he became a lascivious

man and most cruel tyrant; though in reality this was not a

change of his nature, but a bold unmasking, when safe

opportunity came, of the evil inclinations which his fear had

for a long time made him dissemble.

For that the respect he at the beginning bore to Aratus had a

great alloy of fear and awe appears evidently from what he did

to him at last.  For being desirous to put him to death, not

thinking himself, whilst he was alive, to be properly free as a

man, much less at liberty to do his pleasure as a king or

tyrant, he durst not attempt to do it by open force, but

commanded Taurion, one of his captains and familiars, to make

him away secretly by poison, if possible, in his absence.

Taurion, therefore, made himself intimate with Aratus, and gave

him a dose, not of your strong and violent poisons, but such as

cause gentle, feverish heats at first, and a dull cough, and so

by degrees bring on certain death.  Aratus perceived what was

done to him, but, knowing that it was in vain to make any words

of it, bore it patiently and with silence, as if it had been

some common and usual distemper.  Only once, a friend of his

being with him in his chamber, he spat some blood, which his

friend observing and wondering at, "These, O Cephalon," said he,

"are the wages of a king's love."

Thus died he in Aegium, in his seventeenth generalship.  The

Achaeans were very desirous that he should be buried there with

a funeral and monument suitable to his life, but the Sicyonians

treated it as a calamity to them if he were interred anywhere

but in their city, and prevailed with the Achaeans to grant them

the disposal of the body.

But there being an ancient law that no person should be buried

within the walls of their city, and besides the law also a

strong religious feeling about it, they sent to Delphi to ask

counsel of the Pythoness, who returned this answer: —

Sicyon, whom oft he rescued, "Where," you say,

"Shall we the relics of Aratus lay?"

The soil that would not lightly o'er him rest,

Or to be under him would feel oppressed,

Were in the sight of earth and seas and skies unblest.

This oracle being brought, all the Achaeans were well pleased at

it, but especially the Sicyonians, who, changing their mourning

into public joy, immediately fetched the body from Aegium, and

in a kind of solemn procession brought it into the city, being

crowned with garlands, and arrayed in white garments, with

singing and dancing, and, choosing a conspicuous place, they

buried him there, as the founder and savior of their city.  The

place is to this day called Aratium, and there they yearly make

two solemn sacrifices to him, the one on the day he delivered

the city from tyranny, being the fifth of the month Daesius,

which the Athenians call Anthesterion, and this sacrifice they

call Soteria; the other in the month of his birth, which is

still remembered.  Now the first of these was performed by the

priest of Jupiter Soter, the second by the priest of Aratus,

wearing a band around his head, not pure white, but mingled with

purple.  Hymns were sung to the harp by the singers of the

feasts of Bacchus; the procession was led up by the president of

the public exercises, with the boys and young men; these were

followed by the councilors wearing garlands, and other citizens

such as pleased.  Of these observances, some small traces, it is

still made a point of religion not to omit, on the appointed

days; but the greatest part of the ceremonies have through time

and other intervening accidents been disused.

And such, as history tells us, was the life and manners of the

elder Aratus.  And for the younger, his son, Philip, abominably

wicked by nature and a savage abuser of his power, gave him such

poisonous medicines, as though they did not kill him indeed, yet

made him lose his senses, and run into wild and absurd attempts

and desire to do actions and satisfy appetites that were

ridiculous and shameful.  So that his death, which happened to

him while he was yet young and in the flower of his age, cannot

be so much esteemed a misfortune as a deliverance and end of his

misery.  However, Philip paid dearly, all through the rest of

his life, for these impious violations of friendship and

hospitality.  For, being overcome by the Romans, he was forced

to put himself wholly into their hands, and, being deprived of

his other dominions and surrendering all his ships except five,

he had also to pay a fine of a thousand talents, and to give his

son for hostage, and only out of mere pity he was suffered to

keep Macedonia and its dependences; where continually putting to

death the noblest of his subjects and the nearest relations he

had, he filled the whole kingdom with horror and hatred of him.

And whereas amidst so many misfortunes he had but one good

chance, which was the having a son of great virtue and merit,

him, through jealousy and envy at the honor the Romans had for

him, he caused to be murdered, and left his kingdom to Perseus,

who, as some say, was not his own child, but supposititious,

born of a seamstress called Gnathaenion.  This was he whom

Paulus Aemilius led in triumph, and in whom ended the succession

of Antigonus's line and kingdom.  But the posterity of Aratus

continued still in our days at Sicyon and Pellene.

ARTAXERXES

The first Artaxerxes, among all the kings of Persia the most

remarkable for a gentle and noble spirit, was surnamed the

Long-handed, his right hand being longer than his left, and was

the son of Xerxes.  The second, whose story I am now writing,

who had the surname of the Mindful, was the grandson of the

former, by his daughter Parysatis, who brought Darius four sons,

the eldest Artaxerxes, the next Cyrus, and two younger than

these, Ostanes and Oxathres.  Cyrus took his name of the ancient

Cyrus, as he, they say, had his from the sun, which, in the

Persian language, is called Cyrus.  Artaxerxes was at first

called Arsicas; Dinon says Oarses; but it is utterly improbable

that Ctesias (however otherwise he may have filled his books

with a perfect farrago of incredible and senseless fables)

should be ignorant of the name of the king with whom he lived as

his physician, attending upon himself, his wife, his mother, and

his children.

Cyrus, from his earliest youth, showed something of a headstrong

and vehement character; Artaxerxes, on the other side, was

gentler in everything, and of a nature more yielding and soft

in its action.  He married a beautiful and virtuous wife, at the

desire of his parents, but kept her as expressly against their

wishes.  For king Darius, having put her brother to death, was

purposing likewise to destroy her.  But Arsicas, throwing

himself at his mother's feet, by many tears, at last, with much

ado, persuaded her that they should neither put her to death nor

divorce her from him.  However, Cyrus was his mother's favorite,

and the son whom she most desired to settle in the throne.  And

therefore, his father Darius now lying ill, he, being sent for

from the sea to the court, set out thence with full hopes that

by her means he was to be declared the successor to the kingdom.

For Parysatis had the specious plea in his behalf, which Xerxes

on the advice of Demaratus had of old made use of, that she had

borne him Arsicas when he was a subject, but Cyrus when a king.

Notwithstanding, she prevailed not with Darius, but the eldest

son Arsicas was proclaimed king, his name being changed into

Artaxerxes; and Cyrus remained satrap of Lydia, and commander in

the maritime provinces.

It was not long after the decease of Darius that the king, his

successor, went to Pasargadae, to have the ceremony of his

inauguration consummated by the Persian priests.  There is a

temple dedicated to a warlike goddess, whom one might liken to

Minerva; into which when the royal person to be initiated has

passed, he must strip himself of his own robe, and put on that

which Cyrus the first wore before he was king; then, having

devoured a frail of figs, he must eat turpentine, and drink a

cup of sour milk.  To which if they superadd any other rites, it

is unknown to any but those that are present at them.  Now

Artaxerxes being about to address himself to this solemnity,

Tisaphernes came to him, bringing a certain priest, who, having

trained up Cyrus in his youth in the established discipline of

Persia, and having taught him the Magian philosophy, was likely

to be as much disappointed as any man that his pupil did not

succeed to the throne.  And for that reason his veracity was the

less questioned when he charged Cyrus as though he had been

about to lie in wait for the king in the temple, and to assault

and assassinate him as he was putting off his garment.  Some

affirm that he was apprehended upon this impeachment, others

that he had entered the temple and was pointed out there, as he

lay lurking, by the priest.  But as he was on the point of being

put to death, his mother clasped him in her arms, and, entwining

him with the tresses of her hair, joined his neck close to her

own, and by her bitter lamentation and intercession to

Artaxerxes for him, succeeded in saving his life; and sent him

away again to the sea and to his former province.  This,

however, could no longer content him; nor did he so well

remember his delivery as his arrest, his resentment for which

made him more eagerly desirous of the kingdom than before.

Some say that he revolted from his brother, because he had not a

revenue allowed him sufficient for his daily meals; but this is

on the face of it absurd.  For had he had nothing else, yet he

had a mother ready to supply him with whatever he could desire

out of her own means.  But the great number of soldiers who were

hired from all quarters and maintained, as Xenophon informs us,

for his service, by his friends and connections, is in itself a

sufficient proof of his riches.  He did not assemble them

together in a body, desiring as yet to conceal his enterprise;

but he had agents everywhere, enlisting foreign soldiers upon

various pretenses; and, in the meantime, Parysatis, who was

with the king, did her best to put aside all suspicions, and

Cyrus himself always wrote in a humble and dutiful manner to

him, sometimes soliciting favor, sometimes making countercharges

against Tisaphernes, as if his jealousy and contest had been

wholly with him.  Moreover, there was a certain natural

dilatoriness in the king, which was taken by many for clemency.

And, indeed, in the beginning of his reign, he did seem really

to emulate the gentleness of the first Artaxerxes, being very

accessible in his person, and liberal to a fault in the

distribution of honors and favors.  Even in his punishments, no

contumely or vindictive pleasure could be seen; and those who

offered him presents were as much pleased with his manner of

accepting, as were those who received gifts from him with his

graciousness and amiability in giving them.  Nor truly was there

anything, however inconsiderable, given him, which he did not

deign kindly to accept of; insomuch that when one Omises had

presented him with a very large pomegranate, "By Mithras," said

he, "this man, were he entrusted with it, would turn a small

city into a great one."

Once when some were offering him one thing, some another, as he

was on a progress, a certain poor laborer, having got nothing at

hand to bring him, ran to the river side, and, taking up water

in his hands, offered it to him; with which Artaxerxes was so

well pleased that he sent him a goblet of gold and a thousand

darics.  To Euclidas, the Lacedaemonian, who had made a number

of bold and arrogant speeches to him, he sent word by one of his

officers, "You have leave to say what you please to me, and I,

you should remember, may both say and do what I please to you."

Teribazus once, when they were hunting, came up and pointed out

to the king that his royal robe was torn; the king asked him

what he wished him to do; and when Teribazus replied "May it

please you to put on another and give me that," the king did so,

saying withal, "I give it you, Teribazus, but I charge you not

to wear it."  He, little regarding the injunction, being not a

bad, but a light-headed, thoughtless man, immediately the king

took it off, put it on, and bedecked himself further with royal

golden necklaces and women's ornaments, to the great scandal of

everybody, the thing being quite unlawful.  But the king laughed

and told him, "You have my leave to wear the trinkets as a

woman, and the robe of state as a fool."  And whereas none

usually sat down to eat with the king besides his mother and his

wedded wife, the former being placed above, the other below him,

Artaxerxes invited also to his table his two younger brothers,

Ostanes and Oxathres.  But what was the most popular thing of

all among the Persians was the sight of his wife Statira's

chariot, which always appeared with its curtains down, allowing

her countrywomen to salute and approach her, which made the

queen a great favorite with the people.

Yet busy, factious men, that delighted in change, professed it

to be their opinion that the times needed Cyrus, a man of a

great spirit, an excellent warrior, and a lover of his friends,

and that the largeness of their empire absolutely required a

bold and enterprising prince.  Cyrus, then; not only relying

upon those of his own province near the sea, but upon many of

those in the upper countries near the king, commenced the war

against him.  He wrote to the Lacedaemonians, bidding them come

to his assistance and supply him with men, assuring them that to

those who came to him on foot he would give horses, and to the

horsemen chariots; that upon those who had farms he would bestow

villages, and those who were lords of villages he would make so

of cities; and that those who would be his soldiers should

receive their pay, not by count, but by weight.  And among many

other high praises of himself, he said he had the stronger soul;

was more a philosopher and a better Magian; and could drink and

bear more wine than his brother, who, as he averred, was such a

coward and so little like a man, that he could neither sit his

horse in hunting nor his throne in time of danger.  The

Lacedaemonians, his letter being read, sent a staff to

Clearchus, commanding him to obey Cyrus in all things.  So Cyrus

marched towards the king, having under his conduct a numerous

host of barbarians, and but little less than thirteen thousand

stipendiary Grecians; alleging first one cause, then another,

for his expedition.  Yet the true reason lay not long concealed,

but Tisaphernes went to the king in person to declare it.

Thereupon, the court was all in an uproar and tumult, the

queen-mother bearing almost the whole blame of the enterprise,

and her retainers being suspected and accused.  Above all,

Statira angered her by bewailing the war and passionately

demanding where were now the pledges and the intercessions which

saved the life of him that conspired against his brother; "to

the end," she said, "that he might plunge us all into war and

trouble."  For which words Parysatis hating Statira, and being

naturally implacable and savage in her anger and revenge,

consulted how she might destroy her.  But since Dinon tells us

that her purpose took effect in the time of the war, and Ctesias

says it was after it, I shall keep the story for the place to

which the latter assigns it, as it is very unlikely that he, who

was actually present, should not know the time when it happened,

and there was no motive to induce him designedly to misplace its

date in his narrative of it, though it is not infrequent with

him in his history to make excursions from truth into mere

fiction and romance.

As Cyrus was upon the march, rumors and reports were brought

him, as though the king still deliberated, and were not minded

to fight and presently to join battle with him; but to wait in

the heart of his kingdom until his forces should have come in

thither from all parts of his dominions.  He had cut a trench

through the plain ten fathoms in breadth, and as many in depth,

the length of it being no less than four hundred furlongs.  Yet

he allowed Cyrus to pass across it, and to advance almost to the

city of Babylon.  Then Teribazus, as the report goes, was the

first that had the boldness to tell the king that he ought not

to avoid the conflict, nor to abandon Media, Babylon, and even

Susa, and hide himself in Persis, when all the while he had an

army many times over more numerous than his enemies, and an

infinite company of governors and captains that were better

soldiers and politicians than Cyrus.  So at last he resolved to

fight, as soon as it was possible for him.  Making, therefore,

his first appearance, all on a sudden, at the head of nine

hundred thousand well-marshaled men, he so startled and

surprised the enemy, who with the confidence of contempt were

marching on their way in no order, and with their arms not ready

for use, that Cyrus, in the midst of much noise and tumult, was

scarce able to form them for battle.  Moreover, the very manner

in which he led on his men, silently and slowly, made the

Grecians stand amazed at his good discipline; who had expected

irregular shouting and leaping, much confusion and separation

between one body of men and another, in so vast a multitude of

troops.  He also placed the choicest of his armed chariots in

the front of his own phalanx over against the Grecian troops,

that a violent charge with these might cut open their ranks

before they closed with them.

But as this battle is described by many historians, and Xenophon

in particular as good as shows it us by eyesight, not as a past

event, but as a present action, and by his vivid account makes

his hearers feel all the passions and join in all the dangers of

it, it would be folly in me to give any larger account of it

than barely to mention any things omitted by him which yet

deserve to be recorded.  The place, then, in which the two

armies were drawn out is called Cunaxa, being about five hundred

furlongs distant from Babylon.  And here Clearchus beseeching

Cyrus before the fight to retire behind the combatants, and not

expose himself to hazard, they say he replied, "What is this,

Clearchus?  Would you have me, who aspire to empire, show myself

unworthy of it?"  But if Cyrus committed a great fault in

entering headlong into the midst of danger, and not paying any

regard to his own safety, Clearchus was as much to blame, if not

more, in refusing to lead the Greeks against the main body of

the enemy, where the king stood, and in keeping his right wing

close to the river, for fear of being surrounded.  For if he

wanted, above all other things, to be safe, and considered it

his first object to sleep in whole skin, it had been his best

way not to have stirred from home.  But, after marching in arms

ten thousand furlongs from the sea-coast, simply on his own

choosing, for the purpose of placing Cyrus on the throne, to

look about and select a position which would enable him, not to

preserve him under whose pay and conduct he was, but himself to

engage with more ease and security seemed much like one that

through fear of present dangers had abandoned the purpose of his

actions, and been false to the design of his expedition.  For it

is evident from the very event of the battle that none of those

who were in array around the king's person could have stood the

shock of the Grecian charge; and had they been beaten out of the

field, and Artaxerxes either fled or fallen, Cyrus would have

gained by the victory, not only safety, but a crown.  And,

therefore, Clearchus, by his caution, must be considered more

to blame for the result in the destruction of the life and

fortune of Cyrus, than he by his heat and rashness.  For had the

king made it his business to discover a place, where having

posted the Grecians, he might encounter them with the least

hazard, he would never have found out any other but that which

was most remote from himself and those near him; of his defeat

in which he was insensible, and, though Clearchus had the

victory, yet Cyrus could not know of it, and could take no

advantage of it before his fall.  Cyrus knew well enough what

was expedient to be done, and commanded Clearchus with his men

to take their place in the center.  Clearchus replied that he

would take care to have all arranged as was best, and then

spoiled all.

For the Grecians, where they were, defeated the barbarians till

they were weary, and chased them successfully a very great way.

But Cyrus being mounted upon a noble but a headstrong and

hard-mouthed horse, bearing the name, as Ctesias tells us, of

Pasacas, Artagerses, the leader of the Cadusians, galloped up to

him, crying aloud, "O most unjust and senseless of men, who are

the disgrace of the honored name of Cyrus, are you come here

leading the wicked Greeks on a wicked journey, to plunder the

good things of the Persians, and this with the intent of slaying

your lord and brother, the master of ten thousand times ten

thousand servants that are better men than you?  as you shall

see this instant; for you shall lose your head here, before you

look upon the face of the king."  Which when he had said, he

cast his javelin at him.  But the coat of mail stoutly repelled

it, and Cyrus was not wounded; yet the stroke falling heavy upon

him, he reeled under it.  Then Artagerses turning his horse,

Cyrus threw his weapon, and sent the head of it through his neck

near the shoulder bone.  So that it is almost universally agreed

to by all the author that Artagerses was slain by him.  But as

to the death of Cyrus, since Xenophon, as being himself no

eye-witness of it, has stated it simply and in few words, it may

not be amiss perhaps to run over on the one hand what Dinon, and

on the other, what Ctesias has said of it.

Dinon then affirms, that, after the death of Artagerses, Cyrus,

furiously attacking the guard of Artaxerxes, wounded the king's

horse, and so dismounted him, and when Teribazus had quickly

lifted him up upon another, and said to him, "O king, remember

this day, which is not one to be forgotten," Cyrus, again

spurring up his horse, struck down Artaxerxes.  But at the third

assault the king being enraged, and saying to those near him

that death was more eligible, made up to Cyrus, who furiously

and blindly rushed in the face of the weapons opposed to him.

So the king struck him with a javelin, as likewise did those

that were about him.  And thus Cyrus falls, as some say, by the

hand of the king; as others, by the dart of a Carian, to whom

Artaxerxes, for a reward of his achievement, gave the privilege

of carrying ever after a golden cock upon his spear before the

first ranks of the army in all expeditions.  For the Persians

call the men of Caria cocks, because of the crests with which

they adorn their helmets.

But the account of Ctesias, to put it shortly, omitting many

details, is as follows: Cyrus, after the death of Artagerses,

rode up against the king, as he did against him, neither

exchanging a word with the other.  But Ariaeus, Cyrus's friend,

was beforehand with him, and darted first at the king, yet

wounded him not.  Then the king cast his lance at his brother,

but missed him, though he both hit and slew Satiphernes, a noble

man and a faithful friend to Cyrus.  Then Cyrus directed his

lance against the king, and pierced his breast with it quite

through his armor, two inches deep, so that he fell from his

horse with the stroke.  At which those that attended him being

put to flight and disorder, he, rising with a few, among whom

was Ctesias, and making his way to a little hill not far off,

rested himself.  But Cyrus, who was in the thick of the enemy,

was carried off a great way by the wildness of his horse, the

darkness which was now coming on making it hard for them to know

him, and for his followers to find him.  However, being made

elate with victory, and full of confidence and force, he passed

through them, crying out, and that more than once, in the

Persian language, "Clear the way, villains, clear the way;"

which they indeed did, throwing themselves down at his feet.

But his tiara dropped off his head, and a young Persian, by name

Mithridates, running by, struck a dart into one of his temples

near his eye, not knowing who he was, out of which wound much

blood gushed, so that Cyrus, swooning and senseless, fell off

his horse.  The horse escaped, and ran about the field; but the

companion of Mithridates took the trappings, which fell off,

soaked with blood.  And as Cyrus slowly began to come to

himself, some eunuchs who were there tried to put him on another

horse, and so convey him safe away.  And when he was not able to

ride, and desired to walk on his feet, they led and supported

him, being indeed dizzy in the head and reeling, but convinced

of his being victorious, hearing, as he went, the fugitives

saluting Cyrus as king, and praying for grace and mercy.  In the

meantime, some wretched, poverty-stricken Caunians, who in some

pitiful employment as camp-followers had accompanied the king's

army, by chance joined these attendants of Cyrus, supposing them

to be of their own party.  But when, after a while, they made

out that their coats over their breastplates were red, whereas

all the king's people wore white ones, they knew that they were

enemies.  One of them, therefore, not dreaming that it was

Cyrus, ventured to strike him behind with a dart.  The vein

under the knee was cut open, and Cyrus fell, and at the same

time struck his wounded temple against a stone, and so died.

Thus runs Ctesias's account, tardily, with the slowness of a

blunt weapon, effecting the victim's death.

When he was now dead, Artasyras, the king's eye, passed by on

horseback, and, having observed the eunuchs lamenting, he asked

the most trusty of them, "Who is this, Pariscas, whom you sit

here deploring?"  He replied, "Do not you see, O Artasyras, that

it is my master, Cyrus?"  Then Artasyras wondering, bade the

eunuch be of good cheer, and keep the dead body safe.  And going

in all haste to Artaxerxes, who had now given up all hope of his

affairs, and was in great suffering also with his thirst and his

wound, he with much joy assured him that he had seen Cyrus dead.

Upon this, at first, he set out to go in person to the place,

and commanded Artasyras to conduct him where he lay.  But when

there was a great noise made about the Greeks, who were said to

be in full pursuit, conquering and carrying all before them, he

thought it best to send a number of persons to see; and

accordingly thirty men went with torches in their hands.

Meantime, as he seemed to be almost at the point of dying from

thirst, his eunuch Satibarzanes ran about seeking drink for him;

for the place had no water in it, and he was at a good distance

from his camp.  After a long search he at last luckily met with

one of those poor Caunian camp-followers, who had in a wretched

skin about four pints of foul and stinking water, which he took

and gave to the king; and when he had drunk all off, he asked

him if he did not dislike the water; but he declared by all the

gods, that he never so much relished either wine, or water out

of the lightest or purest stream.  "And therefore," said he, "if

I fail myself to discover and reward him who gave it to you, I

beg of heaven to make him rich and prosperous."

Just after this, came back the thirty messengers, with joy and

triumph in their looks, bringing him the tidings of his

unexpected fortune.  And now he was also encouraged by the

number of soldiers that again began to flock in and gather about

him; so that he presently descended into the plain with many

lights and flambeaus round about him.  And when he had come near

the dead body, and, according to a certain law of the Persians,

the right hand and head had been lopped off from the trunk, he

gave orders that the latter should be brought to him, and,

grasping the hair of it, which was long and bushy, he showed it

to those who were still uncertain and disposed to fly.  They

were amazed at it, and did him homage; so that there were

presently seventy thousand of them got about him, and entered

the camp again with him.  He had led out to the fight, as

Ctesias affirms, four hundred thousand men.  But Dinon and

Xenophon aver that there were many more than forty myriads

actually engaged.  As to the number of the slain, as the

catalogue of them was given up to Artaxerxes, Ctesias says, they

were nine thousand, but that they appeared to him no fewer than

twenty thousand.  Thus far there is something to be said on both

sides.  But it is a flagrant untruth on the part of Ctesias to

say that he was sent along with Phalinus the Zacynthian and some

others to the Grecians.  For Xenophon knew well enough that

Ctesias was resident at court; for he makes mention of him, and

had evidently met with his writings.  And, therefore, had he

come, and been deputed the interpreter of such momentous words,

Xenophon surely would not have struck his name out of the

embassy to mention only Phalinus.  But Ctesias, as is evident,

being excessively vain-glorious, and no less a favorer of the

Lacedaemonians and Clearchus, never fails to assume to himself

some province in his narrative, taking opportunity, in these

situations, to introduce abundant high praise of Clearchus and

Sparta.

When the battle was over, Artaxerxes sent goodly and magnificent

gifts to the son of Artagerses, whom Cyrus slew.  He conferred

likewise high honors upon Ctesias and others, and, having found

out the Caunian who gave him the bottle of water, he made him,

of a poor, obscure man, a rich and an honorable person.  As for

the punishments he indicted upon delinquents, there was a kind

of harmony betwixt them and the crimes.  He gave order that one

Arbaces, a Mede, that had fled in the fight to Cyrus, and again

at his fall had come back, should, as a mark that he was

considered a dastardly and effeminate, not a dangerous or

treasonable man, have a common harlot set upon his back, and

carry her about for a whole day in the marketplace.  Another,

besides that he had deserted to them, having falsely vaunted

that he had killed two of the rebels, he decreed that three

needles should be struck through his tongue.  And both supposing

that with his own hand he had cut off Cyrus, and being willing

that all men should think and say so, he sent rich presents to

Mithridates, who first wounded him, and charged those by whom he

conveyed the gifts to him to tell him, that "the king has

honored you with these his favors, because you found and brought

him the horse-trappings of Cyrus."  The Carian, also, from whose

wound in the ham Cyrus died, suing for his reward, he commanded

those that brought it him to say that "the king presents you

with this as a second remuneration for the good news told him;

for first Artasyras, and, next to him, you assured him of the

decease of Cyrus."  Mithridates retired without complaint,

though not without resentment.  But the unfortunate Carian was

fool enough to give way to a natural infirmity.  For being

ravished with the sight of the princely gifts that were before

him, and being tempted thereupon to challenge and aspire to

things above him, he deigned not to accept the king's present as

a reward for good news, but indignantly crying out and appealing

to witnesses, he protested that he, and none but he, had killed

Cyrus, and that he was unjustly deprived of the glory.  These

words, when they came to his ear, much offended the king, so

that forthwith he sentenced him to be beheaded.  But the queen

mother, being in the king's presence, said, "Let not the king so

lightly discharge this pernicious Carian; let him receive from

me the fitting punishment of what he dares to say."  So when the

king had consigned him over to Parysatis, she charged the

executioners to take up the man, and stretch him upon the rack

for ten days, then, tearing out his eyes, to drop molten brass

into his ears till he expired.

Mithridates, also, within a short time after, miserably perished

by the like folly; for being invited to a feast where were the

eunuchs both of the king and of the queen mother, he came

arrayed in the dress and the golden ornaments which he had

received from the king.  After they began to drink, the eunuch

that was the greatest in power with Parysatis thus speaks to

him: A magnificent dress, indeed, O Mithridates, is this which

the king has given you; the chains and bracelets are glorious,

and your scimitar of invaluable worth; how happy has he made

you, the object of every eye!"  To whom he, being a little

overcome with the wine replied, "What are these things,

Sparamizes?  Sure I am, I showed myself to the king in that day

of trial to be one deserving greater and costlier gifts than

these."  At which Sparamizes smiling, said, "I do not grudge

them to you, Mithridates; but since the Grecians tell us that

wine and truth go together, let me hear now, my friend, what

glorious or mighty matter was it to find some trappings that had

slipped off a horse, and to bring them to the king?"  And this

he spoke, not as ignorant of the truth, but desiring to unbosom

him to the company, irritating the vanity of the man, whom drink

had now made eager to talk and incapable of controlling himself.

So he forbore nothing, but said out, "Talk you what you please

of horse-trappings, and such trifles; I tell you plainly, that

this hand was the death of Cyrus.  For I threw not my dart as

Artagerses did, in vain and to no purpose, but only just missing

his eye, and hitting him right on the temple, and piercing him

through, I brought him to the ground; and of that wound he

died."  The rest of the company, who saw the end and the hapless

fate of Mithridates as if it were already completed, bowed their

heads to the ground; and he who entertained them said,

"Mithridates, my friend, let us eat and drink now, revering the

fortune of our prince, and let us waive discourse which is too

weighty for us."

Presently after, Sparamizes told Parysatis what he said, and she

told the king, who was greatly enraged at it, as having the lie

given him, and being in danger to forfeit the most glorious and

most pleasant circumstance of his victory.  For it was his

desire that everyone, whether Greek or barbarian, should

believe that in the mutual assaults and conflicts between him

and his brother, he, giving and receiving a blow, was himself

indeed wounded, but that the other lost his life.  And,

therefore, he decreed that Mithridates should be put to death in

boats; which execution is after the following manner: Taking two

boats framed exactly to fit and answer each other, they lay down

in one of them the malefactor that suffers, upon his back; then,

covering it with the other, and so setting them together that

the head, hands, and feet of him are left outside, and the rest

of his body lies shut up within, they offer him food, and if he

refuse to eat it, they force him to do it by pricking his eyes;

then, after he has eaten, they drench him with a mixture of

milk and honey, pouring it not only into his mouth, but all over

his face.  They then keep his face continually turned towards

the sun; and it becomes completely covered up and hidden by the

multitude of flies that settle on it.  And as within the boats

he does what those that eat and drink must needs do, creeping

things and vermin spring out of the corruption and rottenness of

the excrement, and these entering into the bowels of him, his

body is consumed.  When the man is manifestly dead, the

uppermost boat being taken off, they find his flesh devoured,

and swarms of such noisome creatures preying upon and, as it

were, growing to his inwards.  In this way Mithridates, after

suffering for seventeen days, at last expired.

Masabates, the king's eunuch, who had cut off the hand and head

of Cyrus, remained still as a mark for Parysatis's vengeance.

Whereas, therefore, he was so circumspect, that he gave her no

advantage against him, she framed this kind of snare for him.

She was a very ingenious woman in other ways, and was an

excellent player at dice, and, before the war, had often played

with the king.  After the war, too, when she had been reconciled

to him, she joined readily in all amusements with him, played

at dice with him, was his confidant in his love matters, and in

every way did her best to leave him as little as possible in the

company of Statira, both because she hated her more than any

other person, and because she wished to have no one so powerful

as herself.  And so once when Artaxerxes was at leisure, and

inclined to divert himself, she challenged him to play at dice

with her for a thousand Darics, and purposely let him win them,

and paid him down in gold.  Yet, pretending to be concerned for

her loss, and that she would gladly have her revenge for it, she

pressed him to begin a new game for a eunuch; to which he

consented.  But first they agreed that each of them might except

five of their most trusty eunuchs, and that out of the rest of

them the loser should yield up any the winner should make choice

of.  Upon these conditions they played.  Thus being bent upon

her design, and thoroughly in earnest with her game, and the

dice also running luckily for her, when she had got the game,

she demanded Masabates, who was not in the number of the five

excepted.  And before the king could suspect the matter, having

delivered him up to the tormentors, she enjoined them to flay

him alive, to set his body upon three stakes, and to stretch his

skin upon stakes separately from it.

These things being done, and the king taking them ill, and being

incensed against her, she with raillery and laughter told him,

"You are a comfortable and happy man indeed, if you are so much

disturbed for the sake of an old rascally eunuch, when I, though

I have thrown away a thousand Darics, hold my peace and

acquiesce in my fortune."  So the king, vexed with himself for

having been thus deluded, hushed up all.  But Statira both in

other matters openly opposed her, and was angry with her for

thus, against all law and humanity, sacrificing to the memory of

Cyrus the king's faithful friends and eunuchs.

Now after that Tisaphernes had circumvented and by a false oath

had betrayed Clearchus and the other commanders, and, taking

them, had sent them bound in chains to the king, Ctesias says

that he was asked by Clearchus to supply him with a comb; and

that when he had it, and had combed his head with it, he was

much pleased with this good office, and gave him a ring, which

might be a token of the obligation to his relatives and friends

in Sparta; and that the engraving upon this signet was a set of

Caryatides dancing.  He tells us that the soldiers, his fellow

captives, used to purloin a part of the allowance of food sent

to Clearchus, giving him but little of it; which thing Ctesias

says he rectified, causing a better allowance to be conveyed to

him, and that a separate share should be distributed to the

soldiers by themselves; adding that he ministered to and

supplied him thus by the interest and at the instance of

Parysatis.  And there being a portion of ham sent daily with his

other food to Clearchus, she, he says, advised and instructed

him, that he ought to bury a small knife in the meat, and thus

send it to his friend, and not leave his fate to be determined

by the king's cruelty; which he, however, he says, was afraid to

do.  However, Artaxerxes consented to the entreaties of his

mother, and promised her with an oath that he would spare

Clearchus; but afterwards, at the instigation of Statira, he put

every one of them to death except Menon.  And thenceforward, he

says, Parysatis watched her advantage against Statira, and made

up poison for her; not a very probable story, or a very likely

motive to account for her conduct, if indeed he means that out

of respect to Clearchus she dared to attempt the life of the

lawful queen, that was mother of those who were heirs of the

empire.  But it is evident enough, that this part of his history

is a sort of funeral exhibition in honor of Clearchus.  For he

would have us believe, that, when the generals were executed,

the rest of them were torn in pieces by dogs and birds; but as

for the remains of Clearchus, that a violent gust of wind,

bearing before it a vast heap of earth, raised a mound to cover

his body, upon which, after a short time, some dates having

fallen there, a beautiful grove of trees grew up and

overshadowed the place, so that the king himself declared his

sorrow, concluding that in Clearchus he put to death a man

beloved of the gods.

Parysatis, therefore, having from the first entertained a secret

hatred and jealousy against Statira, seeing that the power she

herself had with Artaxerxes was founded upon feelings of honor

and respect for her, but that Statira's influence was firmly and

strongly based upon love and confidence, was resolved to

contrive her ruin, playing at hazard, as she thought, for the

greatest stake in the world.  Among her attendant women there

was one that was trusty and in the highest esteem with her,

whose name was Gigis; who, as Dinon avers, assisted in making up

the poison.  Ctesias allows her only to have been conscious of

it, and that against her will; charging Belitaras with actually

giving the drug, whereas Dinon says it was Melantas.  The two

women had begun again to visit each other and to eat together;

but though they had thus far relaxed their former habits of

jealousy and variance, still, out of fear and as a matter of

caution, they always ate of the same dishes and of the same

parts of them.  Now there is a small Persian bird, in the inside

of which no excrement is found, only a mass of fat, so that they

suppose the little creature lives upon air and dew.  It is

called rhyntaces.  Ctesias affirms, that Parysatis, cutting a

bird of this kind into two pieces with a knife, one side of

which had been smeared with the drug, the other side being clear

of it, ate the untouched and wholesome part herself, and gave

Statira that which was thus infected; but Dinon will not have it

to be Parysatis, but Melantas, that cut up the bird and

presented the envenomed part of it to Statira; who, dying with

dreadful agonies and convulsions, was herself sensible of what

had happened to her, and aroused in the king's mind suspicion of

his mother, whose savage and implacable temper he knew.  And

therefore proceeding instantly to an inquest, he seized upon his

mother's domestic servants that attended at her table, and put

them upon the rack.  Parysatis kept Gigis at home with her a

long time, and, though the king commanded her, she would not

produce her.  But she, at last, herself desiring that she might

be dismissed to her own home by night, Artaxerxes had intimation

of it, and, lying in wait for her, hurried her away, and

adjudged her to death.  Now poisoners in Persia suffer thus by

law.  There is a broad stone, on which they place the head of

the culprit, and then with another stone beat and press it,

until the face and the head itself are all pounded to pieces;

which was the punishment Gigis lost her life by.  But to his

mother, Artaxerxes neither said nor did any other hurt, save

that he banished and confined her, not much against her will, to

Babylon, protesting that while she lived he would not come near

that city.  Such was the condition of the king's affairs in his

own house.

But when all his attempts to capture the Greeks that had come up

with Cyrus, though he desired to do so no less than he had

desired to overcome Cyrus and maintain his throne, proved

unsuccessful, and they, though they had lost both Cyrus and

their own generals, nevertheless escaped, as it were, out of his

very palace, making it plain to all men that the Persian king

and his empire were mighty indeed in gold and luxury and women,

but otherwise were a mere show and vain display, upon this, all

Greece took courage, and despised the barbarians; and

especially the Lacedaemonians thought it strange if they should

not now deliver their countrymen that dwelt in Asia from their

subjection to the Persians, nor put an end to the contumelious

usage of them.  And first having an army under the conduct of

Thimbron, then under Dercyllidas, but doing nothing memorable,

they at last committed the war to the management of their king

Agesilaus, who, when he had arrived with his men in Asia, as

soon as he had landed them, fell actively to work, and got

himself great renown.  He defeated Tisaphernes in a pitched

battle, and set many cities in revolt.  Upon this, Artaxerxes,

perceiving what was his wisest way of waging the war, sent

Timocrates the Rhodian into Greece, with large sums of gold,

commanding him by a free distribution of it to corrupt the

leading men in the cities, and to excite a Greek war against

Sparta.  So Timocrates following his instructions, the most

considerable cities conspiring together, and Peloponnesus being

in disorder, the ephors remanded Agesilaus from Asia.  At which

time, they say, as he was upon his return, he told his friends

that Artaxerxes had driven him out of Asia with thirty thousand

archers; the Persian coin having an archer stamped upon it.

Artaxerxes scoured the seas, too, of the Lacedaemonians, Conon

the Athenian and Pharnabazus being his admirals.  For Conon,

after the battle of Aegospotami, resided in Cyprus; not that he

consulted his own mere security, but looking for a vicissitude

of affairs with no less hope than men wait for a change of wind

at sea.  And perceiving that his skill wanted power, and that

the king's power wanted a wise man to guide it, he sent him an

account by letter of his projects, and charged the bearer to

hand it to the king, if possible, by the mediation of Zeno the

Cretan or Polycritus the Mendaean (the former being a

dancing-master, the latter a physician), or, in the absence of

them both, by Ctesias; who is said to have taken Conon's letter,

and foisted into the contents of it a request; that the king

would also be pleased to send over Ctesias to him, who was

likely to be of use on the sea-coast.  Ctesias, however,

declares that the king, of his own accord, deputed him to this

service.  Artaxerxes, however, defeating the Lacedaemonians in a

sea-fight at Cnidos, under the conduct of Pharnabazus and Conon,

after he had stripped them of their sovereignty by sea, at the

same time, brought, so to say, the whole of Greece over to him,

so that upon his own terms he dictated the celebrated peace

among them, styled the peace of Antalcidas.  This Antalcidas was

a Spartan, the son of one Leon, who, acting for the king's

interest, induced the Lacedaemonians to covenant to let all the

Greek cities in Asia and the islands adjacent to it become

subject and tributary to him, peace being upon these conditions

established among the Greeks, if indeed the honorable name of

peace can fairly be given to what was in fact the disgrace and

betrayal of Greece, a treaty more inglorious than had ever been

the result of any war to those defeated in it.

And therefore Artaxerxes, though always abominating other

Spartans, and looking upon them, as Dinon says, to be the most

impudent men living, gave wonderful honor to Antalcidas when he

came to him into Persia; so much so that one day, taking a

garland of flowers and dipping it in the most precious ointment,

he sent it to him after supper, a favor which all were amazed

at.  Indeed he was a person fit to be thus delicately treated,

and to have such a crown, who had among the Persians thus made

fools of Leonidas and Callicratidas.  Agesilaus, it seems, on

someone having said, "O the deplorable fate of Greece, now that

the Spartans turn Medes!" replied, "Nay, rather it is the Medes

who become Spartans."  But the subtlety of the repartee did not

wipe off the infamy of the action.  The Lacedaemonians soon

after lost their sovereignty in Greece by their defeat at

Leuctra; but they had already lost their honor by this treaty.

So long then as Sparta continued to be the first state in

Greece, Artaxerxes continued to Antalcidas the honor of being

called his friend and his guest; but when, routed and humbled at

the battle of Leuctra, being under great distress for money,

they had dispatched Agesilaus into Egypt, and Antalcidas went up

to Artaxerxes, beseeching him to supply their necessities, he so

despised, slighted, and rejected him, that finding himself, on

his return, mocked and insulted by his enemies, and fearing also

the ephors, he starved himself to death.  Ismenias, also, the

Theban, and Pelopidas, who had already gained the victory at

Leuctra, arrived at the Persian court; where the latter did

nothing unworthy of himself.  But Ismenias, being commanded to

do obeisance to the king, dropped his ring before him upon the

ground, and so, stooping to take it up, made a show of doing him

homage.  He was so gratified with some secret intelligence which

Timagoras the Athenian sent in to him by the hand of his

secretary, Beluris, that he bestowed upon him ten thousand

darics, and because he was ordered, on account of some sickness,

to drink cow's milk, there were fourscore milch kine driven

after him; also, he sent him a bed, furniture, and servants for

it, the Grecians not having skill enough to make it, as also

chairmen to carry him, being infirm in body, to the seaside.

Not to mention the feast made for him at court, which was so

princely and splendid that Ostanes, the king's brother, said to

him, "O, Timagoras, do not forget the sumptuous table you have

sat at here; it was not put before you for nothing;" which was

indeed rather a reflection upon his treason than to remind him

of the king's bounty.  And indeed the Athenians condemned

Timagoras to death for taking bribes.

But Artaxerxes gratified the Grecians in one thing in lieu of

the many wherewith he plagued them, and that was by taking off

Tisaphernes, their most hated and malicious enemy, whom he put

to death; Parysatis adding her influence to the charges made

against him.  For the king did not persist long in his wrath

with his mother, but was reconciled to her, and sent for her,

being assured that she had wisdom and courage fit for royal

power, and there being now no cause discernible but that they

might converse together without suspicion or offense.  And from

thenceforward humoring the king in all things according to his

heart's desire, and finding fault with nothing that he did, she

obtained great power with him, and was gratified in all her

requests.  She perceived he was desperately in love with Atossa,

one of his own two daughters, and that he concealed and checked

his passion chiefly for fear of herself, though, if we may

believe some writers, he had privately given way to it with the

young girl already.  As soon as Parysatis suspected it, she

displayed a greater fondness for the young girl than before, and

extolled both her virtue and beauty to him, as being truly

imperial and majestic.  In fine, she persuaded him to marry her

and declare her to be his lawful wife, overriding all the

principles and the laws by which the Greeks hold themselves

bound, and regarding himself as divinely appointed for a law to

the Persians, and the supreme arbitrator of good and evil.  Some

historians further affirm, in which number is Heraclides of

Cuma, that Artaxerxes married not only this one, but a second

daughter also, Amestris, of whom we shall speak by and by.  But

he so loved Atossa when she became his consort, that when

leprosy had run through her whole body, he was not in the least

offended at it; but putting up his prayers to Juno for her, to

this one alone of all the deities he made obeisance, by laying

his hands upon the earth; and his satraps and favorites made

such offerings to the goddess by his direction, that all along

for sixteen furlongs, betwixt the court and her temple, the road

was filled up with gold and silver, purple and horses, devoted

to her.

He waged war out of his own kingdom with the Egyptians, under

the conduct of Pharnabazus and Iphicrates, but was unsuccessful

by reason of their dissensions.  In his expedition against the

Cadusians, he went himself in person with three hundred thousand

footmen and ten thousand horse.  And making an incursion into

their country, which was so mountainous as scarcely to be

passable, and withal very misty, producing no sort of harvest of

corn or the like, but with pears, apples, and other tree-fruits

feeding a warlike and valiant breed of men, he unawares fell

into great distresses and dangers.  For there was nothing to be

got fit for his men to eat, of the growth of that place, nor

could anything be imported from any other.  All they could do

was to kill their beasts of burden, and thus an ass's head could

scarcely be bought for sixty drachmas.  In short, the king's own

table failed; and there were but few horses left; the rest they

had spent for food.  Then Teribazus, a man often in great favor

with his prince for his valor, and as often out of it for his

buffoonery, and particularly at that time in humble estate and

neglected, was the deliverer of the king and his army.  There

being two kings amongst the Cadusians, and each of them

encamping separately, Teribazus, after he had made his

application to Artaxerxes and imparted his design to him, went

to one of the princes, and sent away his son privately to the

other.  So each of them deceived his man, assuring him that the

other prince had deputed an ambassador to Artaxerxes, suing for

friendship and alliance for himself alone; and, therefore, if he

were wise, he told him, he must apply himself to his master

before he had decreed anything, and he, he said, would lend him

his assistance in all things.  Both of them gave credit to these

words, and because they supposed they were each intrigued

against by the other, they both sent their envoys, one along

with Teribazus, and the other with his son.  All this taking

some time to transact, fresh surmises and suspicions of

Teribazus were expressed to the king, who began to be out of

heart, sorry that he had confided in him, and ready to give ear

to his rivals who impeached him.  But at last he came, and so

did his son, bringing the Cadusian agents along with them, and

so there was a cessation of arms and a peace signed with both

the princes.  And Teribazus, in great honor and distinction, set

out homewards in the company of the king; who, indeed, upon this

journey made it appear plainly that cowardice and effeminacy are

the effects, not of delicate and sumptuous living, as many

suppose, but of a base and vicious nature, actuated by false and

bad opinions.  For notwithstanding his golden ornaments, his

robe of state, and the rest of that costly attire, worth no less

than twelve thousand talents, with which the royal person was

constantly clad, his labors and toils were not a whit inferior

to those of the meanest persons in his army.  With his quiver by

his side and his shield on his arm, he led them on foot,

quitting his horse, through craggy and steep ways, insomuch that

the sight of his cheerfulness and unwearied strength gave wings

to the soldiers, and so lightened the journey, that they made

daily marches of above two hundred furlongs.

After they had arrived at one of his own mansions, which had

beautiful ornamented parks in the midst of a region naked and

without trees, the weather being very cold, he gave full

commission to his soldiers to provide themselves with wood by

cutting down any, without exception, even the pine and cypress.

And when they hesitated and were for sparing them, being large

and goodly trees, he, taking up an ax himself, felled the

greatest and most beautiful of them.  After which his men used

their hatchets, and piling up many fires, passed away the night

at their ease.  Nevertheless, he returned not without the loss

of many and valiant subjects, and of almost all his horses.  And

supposing that his misfortunes and the ill success of his

expedition made him despised in the eyes of his people, he

looked jealously on his nobles, many of whom he slew in anger,

and yet more out of fear.  As, indeed, fear is the bloodiest

passion in princes; confidence, on the other hand, being

merciful, gentle, and unsuspicious.  So we see among wild

beasts, the intractable and least tamable are the most timorous

and most easily startled; the nobler creatures, whose courage

makes them trustful, are ready to respond to the advances of

men.

Artaxerxes, now being an old man, perceived that his sons were

in controversy about his kingdom, and that they made parties

among his favorites and peers.  Those that were equitable among

them thought it fit, that as he had received it, so he should

bequeath it, by right of age, to Darius.  The younger brother,

Ochus, who was hot and violent, had indeed a considerable number

of the courtiers that espoused his interest, but his chief hope

was that by Atossa's means he should win his father.  For he

flattered her with the thoughts of being his wife and partner in

the kingdom after the death of Artaxerxes.  And truly it was

rumored that already Ochus maintained a too intimate

correspondence with her.  This, however, was quite unknown to

the king; who, being willing to put down in good time his son

Ochus's hopes, lest, by his attempting the same things his uncle

Cyrus did, wars and contentions might again afflict his kingdom,

proclaimed Darius, then twenty-five years old, his successor,

and gave him leave to wear the upright hat, as they call it.  It

was a rule and usage of Persia, that the heir apparent to the

crown should beg a boon, and that he that declared him so should

give whatever he asked, provided it were within the sphere of

his power.  Darius therefore requested Aspasia, in former time

the most prized of the concubines of Cyrus, and now belonging to

the king.  She was by birth a Phocaean, of Ionia, born of free

parents, and well educated.  Once when Cyrus was at supper, she

was led in to him with other women, who, when they were sat down

by him, and he began to sport and dally and talk jestingly with

them, gave way freely to his advances.  But she stood by in

silence, refusing to come when Cyrus called her, and when his

chamberlains were going to force her towards him, said,

"Whosoever lays hands on me shall rue it;" so that she seemed to

the company a sullen and rude-mannered person.  However, Cyrus

was well pleased, and laughed, saying to the man that brought

the women, "Do you not see of a certainty that this woman alone

of all that came with you is truly noble and pure in character?"

After which time he began to regard her, and loved her above all

of her sex, and called her the Wise.  But Cyrus being slain in

the fight, she was taken among the spoils of his camp.

Darius, in demanding her, no doubt much offended his father, for

the barbarian people keep a very jealous and watchful eye over

their carnal pleasures, so that it is death for a man not only

to come near and touch any concubine of his prince, but likewise

on a journey to ride forward and pass by the carriages in which

they are conveyed.  And though, to gratify his passion, he had

against all law married his daughter Atossa, and had besides her

no less than three hundred and sixty concubines selected for

their beauty, yet being importuned for that one by Darius, he

urged that she was a free-woman, and allowed him to take her, if

she had an inclination to go with him, but by no means to force

her away against it.  Aspasia, therefore, being sent for, and,

contrary to the king's expectation, making choice of Darius, he

gave him her indeed, being constrained by law, but when he had

done so, a little after he took her from him.  For he

consecrated her priestess to Diana of Ecbatana, whom they name

Anaitis, that she might spend the remainder of her days in

strict chastity, thinking thus to punish his son, not

rigorously, but with moderation, by a revenge checkered with

jest and earnest.  But he took it heinously, either that he was

passionately fond of Aspasia, or because he looked upon himself

as affronted and scorned by his father.  Teribazus, perceiving

him thus minded, did his best to exasperate him yet further,

seeing in his injuries a representation of his own, of which the

following is the account: Artaxerxes, having many daughters,

promised to give Apama to Pharnabazus to wife, Rhodogune to

Orontes, and Amestris to Teribazus; whom alone of the three he

disappointed, by marrying Amestris himself.  However, to make

him amends, he betrothed his youngest daughter Atossa to him.

But after he had, being enamored of her too, as has been said,

married her, Teribazus entertained an irreconcilable enmity

against him.  As indeed he was seldom at any other time steady

in his temper, but uneven and inconsiderate; so that whether he

were in the number of the choicest favorites of his prince, or

whether he were offensive and odious to him, he demeaned himself

in neither condition with moderation; but if he was advanced he

was intolerably insolent, and in his degradation not submissive

and peaceable in his deportment, but fierce and haughty.

And therefore Teribazus was to the young prince flame added upon

flame, ever urging him, and saying, that in vain those wear

their hats upright who consult not the real success of their

affairs, and that he was ill befriended of reason if he

imagined, whilst he had a brother, who, through the women's

apartments, was seeking a way to the supremacy, and a father of

so rash and fickle a humor, that he should by succession

infallibly step up into the throne.  For he that out of fondness

to an Ionian girl has eluded a law sacred and inviolable among

the Persians is not likely to be faithful in the performance of

the most important promises.  He added, too, that it was not all

one for Ochus not to attain to, and for him to be put by his

crown; since Ochus as a subject might live happily, and nobody

could hinder him; but he, being proclaimed king, must either

take up his scepter or lay down his life.  These words presently

inflamed Darius: what Sophocles says being indeed generally

true: —

Quick travels the persuasion to what's wrong.

For the path is smooth, and upon an easy descent, that leads us

to our own will; and the most part of us desire what is evil

through our strangeness to and ignorance of good.  And in this

case, no doubt, the greatness of the empire and the jealousy

Darius had of Ochus furnished Teribazus with material for his

persuasions.  Nor was Venus wholly unconcerned in the matter, in

regard, namely, of his loss of Aspasia.

Darius, therefore, resigned himself up to the dictates of

Teribazus; and many now conspiring with them, a eunuch gave

information to the king of their plot and the way how it was to

be managed, having discovered the certainty of it, that they had

resolved to break into his bed-chamber by night, and there to

kill him as he lay.  After Artaxerxes had been thus advertised,

he did not think fit, by disregarding the discovery, to despise

so great a danger, nor to believe it when there was little or no

proof of it.  Thus then he did: he charged the eunuch constantly

to attend and accompany the conspirators wherever they were; in

the meanwhile, he broke down the party-wall of the chamber

behind his bed, and placed a door in it to open and shut, which

covered up with tapestry; so the hour approaching, and the

eunuch having told him the precise time in which the traitors

designed to assassinate him, he waited for them in his bed, and

rose not up till he had seen the faces of his assailants and

recognized every man of them.  But as soon as he saw them with

their swords drawn and coming up to him, throwing up the

hanging, he made his retreat into the inner chamber, and,

bolting to the door, raised a cry.  Thus when the murderers had

been seen by him, and had attempted him in vain, they with speed

went back through the same doors they came in by, enjoining

Teribazus and his friends to fly, as their plot had been

certainly detected.  They, therefore, made their escape

different ways; but Teribazus was seized by the king's guards,

and after slaying many, while they were laying hold on him, at

length being struck through with a dart at a distance, fell.  As

for Darius, who was brought to trial with his children, the king

appointed the royal judges to sit over him, and because he was

not himself present, but accused Darius by proxy, he commanded

his scribes to write down the opinion of every one of the

judges, and show it to him.  And after they had given their

sentences, all as one man, and condemned Darius to death, the

officers seized on him and hurried him to a chamber not far off.

To which place the executioner, when summoned, came with a razor

in his hand, with which men of his employment cut off' the heads

of offenders.  But when he saw that Darius was the person thus

to be punished, he was appalled and started back, offering to go

out, as one that had neither power nor courage enough to behead

a king; yet at the threats and commands of the judges, who stood

at the prison door, he returned, and grasping the hair of his

head and bringing his face to the ground with one hand, he cut

through his neck with the razor he had in the other.  Some

affirm that sentence was passed in the presence of Artaxerxes;

that Darius, after he had been convicted by clear evidence,

falling prostrate before him, did humbly beg his pardon; that

instead of giving it, he, rising up in rage and drawing his

scimitar, smote him till he had killed him; that then, going

forth into the court, he worshipped the sun, and said, "Depart

in peace, ye Persians, and declare to your fellow-subjects how

the mighty Oromasdes hath dealt out vengeance to the contrivers

of unjust and unlawful things."

Such, then, was the issue of this conspiracy.  And now Ochus was

high in his hopes, being confident in the influence of Atossa;

but yet was afraid of Ariaspes, the only male surviving, besides

himself, of the legitimate off-spring of his father, and of

Arsames, one of his natural sons.  For indeed Ariaspes was

already claimed as their prince by the wishes of the Persians,

not because he was the elder brother, but because he excelled

Ochus in gentleness, plain-dealing, and good-nature; and on the

other hand Arsames appeared, by his wisdom, fitted for the

throne, and that he was dear to his father, Ochus well knew.  So

he laid snares for them both, and being no less treacherous than

bloody, he made use of the cruelty of his nature against

Arsames, and of his craft and wiliness against Ariaspes.  For he

suborned the king's eunuchs and favorites to convey to him

menacing and harsh expressions from his father, as though he had

decreed to put him to a cruel and ignominious death.  When they

daily communicated these things as secrets, and told him at one

time that the king would do so to him ere long, and at another,

that the blow was actually close impending, they so alarmed the

young man, struck; such a terror into him, and cast such a

confusion and anxiety upon his thoughts, that, having prepared

some poisonous drugs, he drank them, that he might be delivered

from his life.  The king, on hearing what kind of death he died,

heartily lamented him, and was not without a suspicion of the

cause of it.  But being disabled by his age to search into and

prove it, he was, after the loss of this son, more affectionate

than before to Arsames, did manifestly place his greatest

confidence in him, and made him privy to his counsels.

Whereupon Ochus had no longer patience to defer the execution of

his purpose, but having procured Arpates, Teribazus's son, for

the undertaking, he killed Arsames by his hand.  Artaxerxes at

that time had but a little hold on life, by reason of his

extreme age, and so, when he heard of the fate of Arsames, he

could not sustain it at all, but sinking at once under the

weight of his grief and distress, expired, after a life of

ninety-four years, and a reign of sixty-two.  And then he seemed

a moderate and gracious governor, more especially as compared to

his son Ochus, who outdid all his predecessors in

blood-thirstiness and cruelty.

GALBA

Iphicrates the Athenian used to say that it is best to have a

mercenary soldier fond of money and of pleasures, for thus he

will fight the more boldly, to procure the means to gratify his

desires.  But most have been of opinion, that the body of an

army, as well as the natural one, when in its healthy condition,

should make no efforts apart, but in compliance with its head.

Wherefore they tell us that Paulus Aemilius, on taking command

of the forces in Macedonia, and finding them talkative and

impertinently busy, as though they were all commanders, issued

out his orders that they should have only ready hands and keen

swords, and leave the rest to him.  And Plato, who can discern

no use of a good ruler or general, if his men are not on their

part obedient and conformable (the virtue of obeying, as of

ruling, being in his opinion one that does not exist without

first a noble nature, and then a philosophic education, where

the eager and active powers are allayed with the gentler and

humaner sentiments), may claim in confirmation of his doctrines

sundry mournful instances elsewhere, and, in particular, the

events that followed among the Romans upon the death of Nero, in

which plain proofs were given that nothing is more terrible than

a military force moving about in an empire upon uninstructed and

unreasoning impulses.  Demades, after the death of Alexander,

compared the Macedonian army to the Cyclops after his eye was

out, seeing their many disorderly and unsteady motions.  But the

calamities of the Roman government might be likened to the

motions of the giants that assailed heaven, convulsed as it was,

and distracted, and from every side recoiling, as it were, upon

itself, not so much by the ambition of those who were proclaimed

emperors, as by the covetousness and license of the soldiery,

who drove commander after commander out, like nails one upon

another.

Dionysius, in raillery, said of the Pheraean who enjoyed the

government of Thessaly only ten months, that he had been a

tragedy-king, but the Caesars' house in Rome, the Palatium,

received in a shorter space of time no less than four emperors,

passing, as it were, across the stage, and one making room for

another to enter.

This was the only satisfaction of the distressed, that they

needed not require any other justice on their oppressors, seeing

them thus murder each other, and first of all, and that most

justly, the one that ensnared them first, and taught them to

expect such happy results from a change of emperors, sullying a

good work by the pay he gave for its being done, and turning

revolt against Nero into nothing better than treason.

For, as already related, Nymphidius Sabinus, captain of the

guards, together with Tigellinus, after Nero's circumstances

were now desperate, and it was perceived that he designed to fly

into Egypt, persuaded the troops to declare Galba emperor, as if

Nero had been already gone, promising to all the court and

praetorian soldiers, as they are called, seven thousand five

hundred drachmas apiece, and to those in service abroad twelve

hundred and fifty drachmas each; so vast a sum for a largess as

it was impossible anyone could raise, but he must be infinitely

more exacting and oppressive than ever Nero was.  This quickly

brought Nero to his grave, and soon after Galba too; they

murdered the first in expectation of the promised gift, and not

long after the other because they did not obtain it from him;

and then, seeking about to find someone who would purchase at

such a rate, they consumed themselves in a succession of

treacheries and rebellions before they obtained their demands.

But to give a particular relation of all that passed would

require a history in full form; I have only to notice what is

properly to my purpose, namely, what the Caesars did and

suffered.

Sulpicius Galba is owned by all to have been the richest private

person that ever came to the imperial seat.  And besides the

additional honor of being of the family of the Servii, he valued

himself more especially for his relationship to Catulus, the

most eminent citizen of his time both for virtue and renown,

however he may have voluntarily yielded to others as regards

power and authority.  Galba was also akin to Livia, the wife of

Augustus, by whose interest he was preferred to the consulship

by the emperor. It is said of him that he commanded the troops

well in Germany, and, being made proconsul in Libya, gained a

reputation that few ever had.  But his quiet manner of living

and his sparingness in expenses and his disregard of appearance

gave him, when he became emperor, an ill-name for meanness,

being, in fact, his worn-out credit for regularity and

moderation.  He was entrusted by Nero with the government of

Spain, before Nero had yet learned to be apprehensive of men of

great repute.  To the opinion, moreover, entertained of his mild

natural temper, his old age added a belief that he would never

act incautiously.

There while Nero's iniquitous agents savagely and cruelly

harassed the provinces under Nero's authority, he could afford

no succor, but merely offer this only ease and consolation, that

he seemed plainly to sympathize, as a fellow-sufferer, with

those who were condemned upon suits and sold.  And when lampoons

were made upon Nero and circulated and sung everywhere about, he

neither prohibited them, nor showed any indignation on behalf of

the emperor's agents, and for this was the more beloved; as also

that he was now well acquainted with them, having been in chief

power there eight years at the time when Junius Vindex, general

of the forces in Gaul, began his insurrection against Nero.  And

it is reported that letters came to Galba before it fully broke

out into an open rebellion, which he neither seemed to give

credit to, nor on the other hand to take means to let Nero know,

as other officers did, sending to him the letters which came to

them, and so spoiled the design, as much as in them lay, who yet

afterwards shared in the conspiracy, and confessed they had been

treacherous to themselves as well as him.  At last Vindex,

plainly declaring war, wrote to Galba, encouraging him to take

the government upon him, and give a head to this strong body,

the Gaulish provinces, which could already count a hundred

thousand men in arms, and were able to arm a yet greater number

if occasion were.  Galba laid the matter before his friends,

some of whom thought it fit to wait, and see what movement there

might be and what inclinations displayed at Rome for the

revolution.  But Titus Vinius, captain of his praetorian guard,

spoke thus: "Galba, what means this inquiry?  To question

whether we shall continue faithful to Nero is, in itself, to

cease to be faithful.  Nero is our enemy, and we must by no

means decline the help of Vindex: or else we must at once

denounce him, and march to attack him, because he wishes you to

be the governor of the Romans, rather than Nero their tyrant."

Thereupon Galba, by an edict, appointed a day when he would

receive manumissions, and general rumor and talk beforehand

about his purpose brought together a great crowd of men so ready

for a change, that he scarcely appeared, stepping up to the

tribunal, but they with one consent saluted him emperor.  That

title he refused at present to take upon him; but after he had a

while inveighed against Nero, and bemoaned the loss of the more

conspicuous of those that had been destroyed by him, he offered

himself and service to his country, not by the titles of Caesar

or emperor, but as the lieutenant of the Roman senate and

people.

Now that Vindex did wisely in inviting Galba to the empire, Nero

himself bore testimony; who, though he seemed to despise Vindex

and altogether to slight the Gauls and their concerns, yet when

he heard of Galba (as by chance he had just bathed and sat down

to his morning meal), at this news he overturned the table.  But

the senate having voted Galba an enemy, presently, to make his

jest, and likewise to personate a confidence among his friends,

"This is a very happy opportunity," he said, "for me, who sadly

want such a booty as that of the Gauls, which must all fall in

as lawful prize; and Galba's estate I can use or sell at once,

he being now an open enemy."  And accordingly he had Galba's

property exposed to sale, which when Galba heard of; he

sequestered all that was Nero's in Spain, and found far readier

bidders.

Many now began to revolt from Nero, and pretty nearly all

adhered to Galba; only Clodius Macer in Africa, and Virginius

Rufus, commander of the German forces in Gaul, followed counsel

of their own; yet these two were not of one and the same advice,

for Clodius, being sensible of the rapines and murders to which

he had been led by cruelty and covetousness, was in perplexity,

and felt it was not safe for him either to retain or quit his

command.  But Virginius, who had the command of the strongest

legions, by whom he was many repeated times saluted emperor and

pressed to take the title upon him, declared that he neither

would assume that honor himself, nor see it given to any other

than whom the senate should elect.

These things at first did not a little disturb Galba, but when

presently Virginius and Vindex were in a manner forced by their

armies, having got the reins, as it were, out of their hands, to

a great encounter and battle, in which Vindex, having seen

twenty thousand of the Gauls destroyed, died by his own hand,

and when the report straight spread abroad, that all desired

Virginius, after this great victory, to take the empire upon

him, or else they would return to Nero again, Galba, in great

alarm at this, wrote to Virginius, exhorting him to join with

him for the preservation of the empire and the liberty of the

Romans, and so retiring with his friends into Clunia, a town in

Spain, he passed away his time, rather repenting his former

rashness, and wishing for his wonted ease and privacy, than

setting about what was fit to be done.

It was now summer, when on a sudden, a little before dusk, comes

a freedman, Icelus by name, having arrived in seven days from

Rome; and being informed where Galba was reposing himself in

private, he went straight on, and pushing by the servants of the

chamber, opened the door and entered the room, and told him,

that Nero being yet alive but not appearing, first the army, and

then the people and senate, declared Galba emperor; not long

after, it was reported that Nero was dead; "but I," said he,

"not giving credit to common fame, went myself to the body and

saw him lying dead, and only then set out to bring you word."

This news at once made Galba great again, and a crowd of people

came hastening to the door, all very confident of the truth of

his tidings, though the speed of the man was almost incredible.

Two days after came Titus Vinius with sundry others from the

camp, who gave an account in detail of the orders of the senate,

and for this service was considerably advanced.  On the

freedman, Galba conferred the honor of the gold ring, and

Icelus, as he had been before, now taking the name of Marcianus,

held the first place of the freedmen.

But at Rome, Nymphidius Sabinus, not gently and little by

little, but at once, and without exception, engrossed all power

to himself; Galba, being an old man (seventy-three years of

age), would scarcely, he thought, live long enough to be carried

in a litter to Rome; and the troops in the city were from old

time attached to him, and now bound by the vastness of the

promised gift, for which they regarded him as their benefactor,

and Galba as their debtor.  Thus presuming on his interest, he

straightway commanded Tigellinus, who was in joint commission

with himself, to lay down his sword; and giving entertainments,

he invited the former consuls and commanders, making use of

Galba's name for the invitation; but at the same time prepared

many in the camp to propose that a request should be sent to

Galba that he should appoint Nymphidius sole prefect for life

without a colleague.  And the modes which the senate took to

show him honor and increase his power, styling him their

benefactor, and attending daily at his gates, and giving him the

compliment of heading with his own name and confirming all their

acts, carried him on to a yet greater degree of arrogance, so

that in a short time he became an object, not only of dislike,

but of terror, to those that sought his favor.  When the consuls

themselves had dispatched their couriers with the decrees of the

senate to the emperor, together with the sealed diplomas, which

the authorities in all the towns where horses or carriages are

changed, look at and on that certificate hasten the couriers

forward with all their means, he was highly displeased that his

seal had not been used, and none of his soldiers employed on the

errand.  Nay, he even deliberated what course to take with the

consuls themselves, but upon their submission and apology he was

at last pacified.  To gratify the people, he did not interfere

with their beating to death any that fell into their hands of

Nero's party.  Amongst others, Spiclus, the gladiator, was

killed in the forum by being thrown under Nero's statues, which

they dragged about the place over his body.  Aponius, one of

those who had been concerned in accusations, they knocked to the

ground, and drove carts loaded with stones over him.  And many

others they tore in pieces, some of them no way guilty, insomuch

that Mauriscus, a person of great account and character, told

the senate that he feared, in a short time, they might wish for

Nero again.

Nymphidius, now advancing towards the consummation of his hopes,

did not refuse to let it be said that he was the son of Caius

Caesar, Tiberius's successor; who, it is told, was well

acquainted with his mother in his early youth, a woman indeed

handsome enough, the off-spring of Callistus, one of Caesar's

freedmen, and a certain seamstress.  But it is plain that

Caius's familiarity with his mother was of too late date to give

him any pretensions, and it was suspected he might, if he

pleased, claim a father in Martianus, the gladiator, whom his

mother, Nymphidia, took a passion for, being a famous man in his

way, whom also he much more resembled.  However, though he

certainly owned Nymphidia for his mother, he ascribed meantime

the downfall of Nero to himself alone, and thought he was not

sufficiently rewarded with the honors and riches he enjoyed,

(nay, though to all was added the company of Sporus, whom he

immediately sent for while Nero's body was yet burning on the

pile, and treated as his consort, with the name of Poppaea,) but

he must also aspire to the empire.  And at Rome he had friends

who took measures for him secretly, as well as some women and

some members of the senate also, who worked underhand to assist

him.  And into Spain he dispatched one of his friends, named

Gellianus, to view the posture of affairs.

But all things succeeded well with Galba after Nero's death;

only Virginius Rufus, still standing doubtful, gave him some

anxiety, lest he should listen to the suggestions of some who

encouraged him to take the government upon him, having, at

present, besides the command of a large and warlike army, the

new honors of the defeat of Vindex and the subjugation of one

considerable part of the Roman empire, namely, the entire Gaul,

which had seemed shaking about upon the verge of open revolt.

Nor had any man indeed a greater name and reputation than

Virginius, who had taken a part of so much consequence in the

deliverance of the empire at once from a cruel tyranny and a

Gallic war.  But he, standing to his first resolves, reserved to

the senate the power of electing an emperor.  Yet when it was

now manifest that Nero was dead, the soldiers pressed him hard

to it, and one of the tribunes, entering his tent with his drawn

sword, bade him either take the government or that.  But after

Fabius Valens, having the command of one legion, had first sworn

fealty to Galba, and letters from Rome came with tidings of the

resolves of the senate, at last with much ado he persuaded the

army to declare Galba emperor.  And when Flaccus Hordeonius came

by Galba's commission as his successor, he handed over to him

his forces, and went himself to meet Galba on his way, and

having met him, turned back to attend him; in all which no

apparent displeasure nor yet honor was shown him.  Galba's

feelings of respect for him prevented the former; the latter was

checked by the envy of his friends, and particularly of Titus

Vinius, who, acting in the desire of hindering Virginius's

promotion, unwittingly aided his happy genius in rescuing him

from those hazards and hardships which other commanders were

involved in, and securing him the safe enjoyment of a quiet life

and peaceable old age.

Near Narbo, a city in Gaul, the deputation of the senate met

Galba, and, after they had delivered their compliments, begged

him to make what haste he could to appear to the people, that

impatiently expected him.  He discoursed with them courteously

and unassumingly, and in his entertainment, though Nymphidius

had sent him royal furniture and attendance of Nero's, he put

all aside, and made use of nothing but his own, for which he

was well spoken of, as one who had a great mind, and was

superior to little vanities.  But in a short time, Vinius, by

declaring to him that these noble, unpompous, citizen-like ways

were a mere affectation of popularity and a petty bashfulness at

assuming his proper greatness, induced him to make use of Nero's

supplies, and in his entertainments not to be afraid of a regal

sumptuosity.  And in more than one way the old man let it

gradually appear that he had put himself under Vinius's

disposal.

Vinius was a person of an excessive covetousness, and not quite

free from blame in respect to women.  For being a young man,

newly entered into the service under Calvisius Sabinus, upon his

first campaign, he brought his commander's wife, a licentious

woman, in a soldier's dress, by night into the camp, and was

found with her in the very general's quarters, the principia, as

the Romans call them.  For which insolence Caius Caesar cast him

into prison, from whence he was fortunately delivered by Caius's

death.  Afterwards, being invited by Claudius Caesar to supper,

he privily conveyed away a silver cup, which Caesar hearing of,

invited him again the next day, and gave order to his servants

to set before him no silver plate, but only earthen ware.  And

this offense, through the comic mildness of Caesar's reprimand,

was treated rather as a subject of jest than as a crime.  But

the acts to which now, when Galba was in his hands and his power

was so extensive, his covetous temper led him were the causes,

in part, and in part the provocation, of tragical and fatal

mischiefs.

Nymphidius became very uneasy upon the return out of Spain of

Gellianus, whom he had sent to pry into Galba's actions,

understanding that Cornelius Laco was appointed commander of the

court guards, and that Vinius was the great favorite, and that

Gellianus had not been able so much as to come nigh, much less

have any opportunity to offer any words in private, so narrowly

had he been watched and observed.  Nymphidius, therefore, called

together the officers of the troops, and declared to them that

Galba of himself was a good, well-meaning old man, but did not

act by his own counsel, and was ill-guided by Vinius and Laco;

and lest, before they were aware, they should engross the

authority Tigellinus had with the troops, he proposed to them to

send deputies from the camp, acquainting him that if he pleased

to remove only these two from his counsel and presence, he would

be much more welcome to all at his arrival.  Wherein when he saw

he did not prevail (it seeming absurd and unmannerly to give

rules to an old commander what friends to retain or displace, as

if he had been a youth newly taking the reins of authority into

his hands), adopting another course, he wrote himself to Galba

letters in alarming terms, one while as if the city were

unsettled, and had not yet recovered its tranquillity; then that

Clodius Macer withheld the corn-ships from Africa; that the

legions in Germany began to be mutinous, and that he heard the

like of those in Syria and Judaea.  But Galba not minding him

much nor giving credit to his stories, he resolved to make his

attempt beforehand, though Clodius Celsus, a native of Antioch,

a person of sense, and friendly and faithful to Nymphidius, told

him he was wrong, saying he did not believe one single street in

Rome would ever give him the title of Caesar.  Nevertheless many

also derided Galba, amongst the rest Mithridates of Pontus,

saying, that as soon as this wrinkled, bald-headed man should be

seen publicly at Rome, they would think it an utter disgrace

ever to have had such a Caesar.

At last it was resolved, about midnight, to bring Nymphidius

into the camp, and declare him emperor.  But Antonius Honoratus,

who was first among the tribunes, summoning together in the

evening those under his command, charged himself and them

severely with their many and unreasonable turns and alterations,

made without any purpose or regard to merit, simply as if some

evil genius hurried them from one treason to another.  "What

though Nero's miscarriages," said he, "gave some color to your

former acts, can you say you have any plea for betraying Galba

in the death of a mother, the blood of a wife, or the

degradation of the imperial power upon the stage and amongst

players?  Neither did we desert Nero for all this, until

Nymphidius had persuaded us that he had first left us and fled

into Egypt.  Shall we, therefore, send Galba after, to appease

Nero's shade, and, for the sake of making the son of Nymphidia

emperor, take off one of Livia's family, as we have already the

son of Agrippina?  Rather, doing justice on him, let us revenge

Nero's death, and show ourselves true and faithful by preserving

Galba."

The tribune having ended his harangue, the soldiers assented,

and encouraged all they met with to persist in their fidelity to

the emperor, and, indeed, brought over the greatest part.  But

presently hearing a great shout, Nymphidius, imagining, as some

say, that the soldiers called for him, or hastening to be in

time to check any opposition and gain the doubtful, came on with

many lights, carrying in his hand a speech in writing, made by

Cingonius Varro, which he had got by heart, to deliver to the

soldiers.  But seeing the gates of the camp shut up, and large

numbers standing armed about the walls, he began to be afraid.

Yet drawing nearer, he demanded what they meant, and by whose

orders they were then in arms; but hearing a general

acclamation, all with one consent crying out that Galba was

their emperor, advancing towards them, he joined in the cry, and

likewise commanded those that followed him to do the same.  The

guard notwithstanding permitted him to enter the camp only with

a few, where he was presently struck with a dart, which

Septimius, being before him, received on his shield; others,

however, assaulted him with their naked swords, and on his

flying, pursued him into a soldier's cabin, where they slew him.

And dragging his body thence, they placed a railing about it,

and exposed it next day to public view.  When Galba heard of

the end which Nymphidius had thus come to, he commanded that all

his confederates who had not at once killed themselves should

immediately be dispatched; amongst whom were Cingonius, who made

his oration, and Mithridates, formerly mentioned.  It was,

however, regarded as arbitrary and illegal, and though it might

be just, yet by no means popular, to take off men of their rank

and quality without a hearing.  For everyone expected another

scheme of government, being deceived, as is usual, by the first

plausible pretenses; and the death of Petronius Turpilianus, who

was of consular dignity, and had remained faithful to Nero, was

yet more keenly resented.  Indeed, the taking off of Macer in

Africa by Trebonius, and Fonteius by Valens in Germany, had a

fair pretense, they being dreaded as armed commanders, having

their soldiers at their bidding; but why refuse Turpilianus, an

old man and unarmed, permission to try to clear himself, if any

part of the moderation and equity at first promised were really

to come to a performance?  Such were the comments to which these

actions exposed him.  When he came within five and twenty

furlongs or thereabouts of the city, he happened to light on a

disorderly rabble of the seamen, who beset him as he passed.

These were they whom Nero made soldiers, forming them into a

legion.  They so rudely crowded to have their commission

confirmed, that they did not let Galba either be seen or heard

by those that had come out to meet their new emperor; but

tumultuously pressed on with loud shouts to have colors to their

legion, and quarters assigned them.  Galba put them off until

another time, which they interpreting as a denial, grew more

insolent and mutinous, following and crying out, some of them

with their drawn swords in their hands.  Upon seeing which,

Galba commanded the horse to ride over them, when they were soon

routed, not a man standing his ground, and many of them were

slain, both there and in the pursuit; an ill omen, that Galba

should make his first entry through so much blood and among dead

bodies.  And now he was looked upon with terror and alarm by any

who had entertained contempt of him at the sight of his age and

apparent infirmities.

But when he desired presently to let it appear what change would

be made from Nero's profuseness and sumptuosity in giving

presents, he much missed his aim, and fell so short of

magnificence, that he scarcely came within the limits of

decency.  When Canus, who was a famous musician, played at

supper for him, he expressed his approbation, and bade the bag

be brought to him; and taking a few gold pieces, put them in

with this remark, that it was out of his own purse, and not on

the public account.  He ordered the largesses which Nero had

made to actors and wrestlers and such like to be strictly

required again, allowing only the tenth part to be retained;

though it turned to very small account, most of those persons

expending their daily income as fast as they received it, being

rude, improvident livers; upon which he had further inquiry made

as to those who had bought or received from them, and called

upon these people to refund.  The trouble was infinite, the

exactions being prosecuted far, touching a great number of

persons, bringing disrepute on Galba, and general hatred on

Vinius, who made the emperor appear base-minded and mean to the

world, whilst he himself was spending profusely, taking whatever

he could get, and selling to any buyer.  Hesiod tells us to

drink without stinting of

The end and the beginning of the cask.

And Vinius, seeing his patron old and decaying, made the most of

what he considered to be at once the first of his fortune and

the last of it.

Thus the aged man suffered in two ways: first, through the evil

deeds which Vinius did himself, and, next, by his preventing or

bringing into disgrace those just acts which he himself

designed.  Such was the punishing Nero's adherents.  When he

destroyed the bad, amongst whom were Helius, Polycletus,

Petinus, and Patrobius, the people mightily applauded the act,

crying out, as they were dragged through the forum, that it was

a goodly sight, grateful to the gods themselves, adding,

however, that the gods and men alike demanded justice on

Tigellinus, the very tutor and prompter of all the tyranny.

This good man, however, had taken his measures beforehand, in

the shape of a present and a promise to Vinius.  Turpilianus

could not be allowed to escape with life, though his one and

only crime had been that he had not betrayed or shown hatred to

such a ruler as Nero.  But he who had made Nero what he became,

and afterwards deserted and betrayed him whom he had so

corrupted, was allowed to survive as an instance that Vinius

could do anything, and an advertisement that those that had

money to give him need despair of nothing.  The people, however,

were so possessed with the desire of seeing Tigellinus dragged

to execution, that they never ceased to require it at the

theater and in the race-course, till they were checked by an

edict from the emperor himself, announcing that Tigellinus could

not live long, being wasted with a consumption, and requesting

them not to seek to make his government appear cruel and

tyrannical.  So the dissatisfied populace were laughed at, and

Tigellinus made a splendid feast, and sacrificed in thanksgiving

for his deliverance: and after supper, Vinius, rising from the

emperor's table, went to revel with Tigellinus, taking his

daughter, a widow, with him; to whom Tigellinus presented his

compliments, with a gift of twenty-five myriads of money, and

bade the superintendent of his concubines take off a rich

necklace from her own neck and tie it about hers, the value of

it being estimated at fifteen myriads.

After this, even reasonable acts were censured; as, for example,

the treatment of the Gauls who had been in the conspiracy with

Vindex.  For people looked upon their abatement of tribute and

admission to citizenship as a piece, not of clemency on the part

of Galba, but of money-making on that of Vinius.  And thus the

mass of the people began to look with dislike upon the

government.  The soldiers were kept on a while in expectation of

the promised donative, supposing that if they did not receive

the full, yet they should have at least as much as Nero gave

them.  But when Galba, on hearing they began to complain,

declared greatly, and like a general, that he was used to enlist

and not to buy his soldiers, when they heard of this, they

conceived an implacable hatred against him; for he did not seem

to defraud them merely himself in their present expectations,

but to give an ill precedent, and instruct his successors to do

the like.  This heart-burning, however, was as yet at Rome a

thing undeclared, and a certain respect for Galba's personal

presence somewhat retarded their motions, and took off their

edge, and their having no obvious occasion for beginning a

revolution curbed and kept under, more or less, their

resentments.  But those forces that had been formerly under

Virginius, and now were under Flaccus in Germany, valuing

themselves much upon the battle they had fought with Vindex, and

finding now no advantage of it, grew very refractory and

intractable towards their officers: and Flaccus they wholly

disregarded, being incapacitated in body by unintermitted gout,

and, besides, a man of little experience in affairs.  So at one

of their festivals, when it was customary for the officers of

the army to wish all health and happiness to the emperor, the

common soldiers began to murmur loudly, and on their officers

persisting in the ceremony, responded with the words, "If he

deserves it."

When some similar insolence was committed by the legions under

Vitellius, frequent letters with the information came to Galba

from his agents; and taking alarm at this, and fearing that he

might be despised not only for his old age, but also for want of

issue, he determined to adopt some young man of distinction, and

declare him his successor.  There was at this time in the city

Marcus Otho, a person of fair extraction, but from his childhood

one of the few most debauched, voluptuous, and luxurious livers

in Rome.  And as Homer gives Paris in several places the title

of "fair Helen's love," making a woman's name the glory and

addition to his, as if he had nothing else to distinguish him,

so Otho was renowned in Rome for nothing more than his marriage

with Poppaea, whom Nero had a passion for when she was

Crispinus's wife.  But being as yet respectful to his own wife,

and standing in awe of his mother, he engaged Otho underhand to

solicit her.  For Nero lived familiarly with Otho, whose

prodigality won his favor, and he was well pleased when he took

the freedom to jest upon him as mean and penurious.  Thus when

Nero one day perfumed himself with some rich essence and favored

Otho with a sprinkle of it, he, entertaining Nero next day,

ordered gold and silver pipes to disperse the like on a sudden

freely, like water, throughout the room.  As to Poppaea, he was

beforehand with Nero, and first seducing her himself, then, with

the hope of Nero's favor, he prevailed with her to part with her

husband, and brought her to his own house as his wife, and was

not content afterwards to have a share in her, but grudged to

have Nero for a claimant, Poppaea herself, they say, being

rather pleased than otherwise with this jealousy; she sometimes

excluded Nero, even when Otho was not present, either to prevent

his getting tired with her, or, as some say, not liking the

prospect of an imperial marriage, though willing enough to have

the emperor as her lover.  So that Otho ran the risk of his

life, and strange it was he escaped, when Nero, for this very

marriage, killed his wife and sister.  But he was beholden to

Seneca's friendship, by whose persuasions and entreaty Nero was

prevailed with to dispatch him as praetor into Lusitania, on the

shores of the Ocean; where he behaved himself very agreeably and

indulgently to those he had to govern, well knowing this command

was but to color and disguise his banishment.

When Galba revolted from Nero, Otho was the first governor of

any of the provinces that came over to him, bringing all the

gold and silver he possessed in the shape of cups and tables, to

be coined into money, and also what servants he had fitly

qualified to wait upon a prince.  In all other points, too, he

was faithful to him, and gave him sufficient proof that he was

inferior to none in managing public business.  And he so far

ingratiated himself, that he rode in the same carriage with him

during the whole journey, several days together.  And in this

journey and familiar companionship, he won over Vinius also,

both by his conversation and presents, but especially by

conceding to him the first place, securing the second, by his

interest, for himself.  And he had the advantage of him in

avoiding all odium and jealousy, assisting all petitioners,

without asking for any reward, and appearing courteous and of

easy access towards all, especially to the military men, for

many of whom he obtained commands, some immediately from the

emperor, others by Vinius's means, and by the assistance of the

two favorite freedmen, Icelus and Asiaticus, these being the

men in chief power in the court.  As often as he entertained

Galba, he gave the cohort on duty, in addition to their pay, a

piece of gold for every man there, upon pretense of respect to

the emperor, while really he undermined him, and stole away his

popularity with the soldiers.

So Galba consulting about a successor, Vinius introduced Otho,

yet not even this gratis, but upon promise that he would marry

his daughter, if Galba should make him his adopted son and

successor to the empire.  But Galba, in all his actions, showed

clearly that he preferred the public good before his own private

interest, not aiming so much to pleasure himself as to advantage

the Romans by his selection.  Indeed he does not seem to have

been so much as inclined to make choice of Otho, had it been but

to inherit his own private fortune, knowing his extravagant and

luxurious character, and that he was already plunged in debt

five thousand myriads deep.  So he listened to Vinius, and made

no reply, but mildly suspended his determination.  Only he

appointed himself consul, and Vinius his colleague, and it was

the general expectation that he would declare his successor at

the beginning of the new year.  And the soldiers desired nothing

more than that Otho should be the person.

But the forces in Germany broke out into their mutiny whilst he

was yet deliberating, and anticipated his design.  All the

soldiers in general felt much resentment against Galba for not

having given them their expected largess but these troops made a

pretense of a more particular concern, that Virginius Rufus was

cast off dishonorably, and that the Gauls who had fought with

them were well rewarded, while those who had refused to take

part with Vindex were punished; and Galba's thanks seemed all to

be for him, to whose memory he had done honor after his death

with public solemnities as though he had been made emperor by

his means only.  Whilst these discourses passed openly

throughout the army, on the first day of the first month of the

year, the Calends, as they call it, of January, Flaccus

summoning them to take the usual anniversary oath of fealty to

the emperor, they overturned and pulled down Galba's statues,

and having sworn in the name of the senate and people of Rome,

departed.  But the officers now feared anarchy and confusion, as

much as rebellion; and one of them came forward and said: "What

will become of us, my fellow-soldiers, if we neither set up

another general, nor retain the present one?  This will be not

so much to desert from Galba as to decline all subjection and

command.  It is useless to try and maintain Flaccus Hordeonius,

who is but a mere shadow and image of Galba.  But Vitellius,

commander of the other Germany, is but one day's march distant,

whose father was censor and thrice consul, and in a manner

co-emperor with Claudius Caesar; and he himself has the best

proof to show of his bounty and largeness of mind, in the

poverty with which some reproach him.  Him let us make choice

of, that all may see we know how to choose an emperor better

than either Spaniards or Lusitanians."  Which motion whilst some

assented to, and others gainsaid, a certain standard-bearer

slipped out and carried the news to Vitellius, who was

entertaining much company by night.  This, taking air, soon

passed through the troops, and Fabius Valens, who commanded one

legion, riding up next day with a large body of horse, saluted

Vitellius emperor.  He had hitherto seemed to decline it,

professing a dread he had to undertake the weight of the

government; but on this day, being fortified, they say, by wine

and a plentiful noonday repast, he began to yield, and submitted

to take on him the title of Germanicus they gave him, but

desired to be excused as to that of Caesar.  And immediately the

army under Flaccus also, putting away their fine and popular

oaths in the name of the senate, swore obedience to Vitellius as

emperor, to observe whatever he commanded.

Thus Vitellius was publicly proclaimed emperor in Germany; which

news coming to Galba's ear, he no longer deferred his adoption;

yet knowing that some of his friends were using their interest

for Dolabella, and the greatest number of them for Otho, neither

of whom he approved of, on a sudden, without anyone's privity,

he sent for Piso, the son of Crassus and Scribonia, whom Nero

slew, a young man in general of excellent dispositions for

virtue, but his most eminent qualities those of steadiness and

austere gravity.  And so he set out to go to the camp to declare

him Caesar and successor to the empire.  But at his very first

going forth, many signs appeared in the heavens, and when he

began to make a speech to the soldiers, partly extempore, and

partly reading it, the frequent claps of thunder and flashes of

lightning and the violent storm of rain that burst on both the

camp and the city were plain discoveries that the divine powers

did not look with favor or satisfaction on this act of adoption,

that would come to no good result.  The soldiers, also, showed

symptoms of hidden discontent, and wore sullen looks, no

distribution of money being even now made to them.  However,

those that were present and observed Piso's countenance and

voice could not but feel admiration to see him so little

overcome by so great a favor, of the magnitude of which at the

same time he seemed not at all insensible.  Otho's aspect, on

the other hand, did not fail to let many marks appear of his

bitterness and anger at his disappointment; since to have been

the first man thought of for it, and to have come to the very

point of being chosen, and now to be put by, was in his feelings

a sign of the displeasure and ill-will of Galba towards him.

This filled him with fears and apprehensions, and sent him home

with a mind full of various passions, whilst he dreaded Piso,

hated Galba, and was full of wrath and indignation against

Vinius.  And the Chaldeans and soothsayers about him would not

permit him to lay aside his hopes or quit his design, chiefly

Ptolemaeus, insisting much on a prediction he had made, that

Nero should not murder Otho, but he himself should die first,

and Otho succeed as emperor; for the first proving true, he

thought he could not distrust the rest.  But none perhaps

stimulated him more than those that professed privately to pity

his hard fate and compassionate him for being thus ungratefully

dealt with by Galba; especially Nymphidius's and Tigellinus's

creatures, who, being now cast off and reduced to low estate,

were eager to put themselves upon him, exclaiming at the

indignity he had suffered, and provoking him to revenge himself.

Amongst these were Veturius and Barbius, the one an optio, the

other a tesserarius (these are men who have the duties of

messengers and scouts), with whom Onomastus, one of Otho's

freedmen, went to the camp, to tamper with the army, and brought

over some with money, others with fair promises, which was no

hard matter, they being already corrupted, and only wanting a

fair pretense.  It had been otherwise more than the work of four

days (which elapsed between the adoption and murder) so

completely to infect them as to cause a general revolt.  On the

sixth day ensuing, the eighteenth, as the Romans call it,

before the Calends of February, the murder was done.  On that

day, in the morning, Galba sacrificed in the Palatium, in the

presence of his friends, when Umbricius, the priest, taking up

the entrails, and speaking not ambiguously, but in plain words,

said that there were signs of great troubles ensuing, and

dangerous snares laid for the life of the emperor.  Thus Otho

had even been discovered by the finger of the god; being there

just behind Galba, hearing all that was said, and seeing what

was pointed out to them by Umbricius.  His countenance changed

to every color in his fear, and he was betraying no small

discomposure, when Onomastus, his freedman, came up and

acquainted him that the master-builders had come, and were

waiting for him at home.  Now that was the signal for Otho to

meet the soldiers.  Pretending then that he had purchased an old

house, and was going to show the defects to those that had sold

it to him, he departed; and passing through what is called

Tiberius's house, he went on into the forum, near the spot

where a golden pillar stands, at which all the several roads

through Italy terminate.

Here, it is related, no more than twenty-three received and

saluted him emperor; so that, although he was not in mind as in

body enervated with soft living and effeminacy, being in his

nature bold and fearless enough in danger, nevertheless, he was

afraid to go on.  But the soldiers that were present would not

suffer him to recede, but came with their drawn swords about his

chair, commanding the bearers to take him up, whom he hastened

on, saying several times over to himself, "I am a lost man."

Several persons overheard the words, who stood by wondering,

rather than alarmed, because of the small number that attempted

such an enterprise.  But as they marched on through the forum,

about as many more met him, and here and there three or four at

a time joined in.  Thus returning towards the camp, with their

bare swords in their hands, they saluted him as Caesar;

whereupon Martialis, the tribune in charge of the watch, who

was, they say, noways privy to it, but was simply surprised at

the unexpectedness of the thing, and afraid to refuse, permitted

him entrance.  And after this, no man made any resistance; for

they that knew nothing of the design, being purposely

encompassed by the conspirators, as they were straggling here

and there, first submitted for fear, and afterwards were

persuaded into compliance.  Tidings came immediately to Galba in

the Palatium, whilst the priest was still present and the

sacrifices at hand, so that persons who were most entirely

incredulous about such things, and most positive in their

neglect of them, were astonished, and began to marvel at the

divine event.  A multitude of all sorts of people now began to

run together out of the forum; Vinius and Laco and some of

Galba's freedmen drew their swords and placed themselves beside

him; Piso went forth and addressed himself to the guards on duty

in the court; and Marius Celsus, a brave man, was dispatched to

the Illyrian legion, stationed in what is called the Vipsanian

chamber, to secure them.

Galba now consulting whether he should go out, Vinius dissuaded

him, but Celsus and Laco encouraged him by all means to do so,

and sharply reprimanded Vinius.  But on a sudden a rumor came

hot that Otho was slain in the camp; and presently appeared one

Julius Atticus, a man of some distinction in the guards, running

up with his drawn sword, crying out that he had slain Caesar's

enemy; and pressing through the crowd that stood in his way, he

presented himself before Galba with his bloody weapon, who,

looking on him, demanded, "Who gave you your orders?"  And on

his answering that it had been his duty and the obligation of

the oath he had taken, the people applauded, giving loud

acclamations, and Galba got into his chair and was carried out

to sacrifice to Jupiter, and so to show himself publicly.  But

coming into the forum, there met him there, like a turn of wind,

the opposite story, that Otho had made himself master of the

camp.  And as usual in a crowd of such a size, some called to

him to return back, others to move forward; some encouraged him

to be bold and fear nothing, others bade him be cautious and

distrust.  And thus whilst his chair was tossed to and fro, as

it were on the waves, often tottering, there appeared first

horse, and straightaway heavy-armed foot, coming through

Paulus's court, and all with one accord crying out, "Down with

this private man."  Upon this, the crowd of people set off

running, not to fly and disperse, but to possess themselves of

the colonnades and elevated places of the forum, as it might be

to get places to see a spectacle.  And as soon as Atillius

Vergilio knocked down one of Galba's statues, this was taken as

the declaration of war, and they sent a discharge of darts upon

Galba's litter, and, missing their aim, came up and attacked him

nearer hand with their naked swords.  No man resisted or offered

to stand up in his defense, save one only, a centurion,

Sempronius Densus, the single man among so many thousands that

the sun beheld that day act worthily of the Roman empire, who,

though he had never received any favor from Galba, yet out of

bravery and allegiance endeavored to defend the litter.  First,

lifting up his switch of vine, with which the centurions correct

the soldiers when disorderly, he called aloud to the aggressors,

charging them not to touch their emperor.  And when they came

upon him hand to hand, he drew his sword, and made a defense for

a long time, until at last he was cut under the knees and

brought to the ground.

Galba's chair was upset at the spot called the Lacus Curtius,

where they ran up and struck at him as he lay in his corslet.

He, however, offered his throat, bidding them "Strike, if it be

for the Romans' good."  He received several wounds on his legs

and arms, and at last was struck in the throat, as most say, by

one Camurius, a soldier of the fifteenth legion.  Some name

Terentius, others Lecanius; and there are others that say it was

Fabius Falulus, who, it is reported, cut off the head and

carried it away in the skirt of his coat, the baldness making it

a difficult thing to take hold of.  But those that were with him

would not allow him to keep it covered up, but bade him let

everyone see the brave deed he had done; so that after a while

he stuck upon the lance the head of the aged man that had been

their grave and temperate ruler, their supreme priest and

consul, and, tossing it up in the air, ran like a bacchanal,

twirling and flourishing with it, while the blood ran down the

spear.  But when they brought the head to Otho,

"Fellow-soldiers," he cried out, "this is nothing, unless you

show me Piso's too," which was presented him not long after.

The young man, retreating upon a wound received, was pursued by

one Murcus, and slain at the temple of Vesta.  Titus Vinius was

also dispatched, avowing himself to have been privy to the

conspiracy against Galba by calling out that they were killing

him contrary to Otho's pleasure.  However, they cut off his

head, and Laco's too, and brought them to Otho, requesting a

boon.

And as Archilochus says —

When six or seven lie breathless on the ground,

'Twas I, 'twas I, say thousands, gave the wound.

Thus many that had no share in the murder wetted their hands and

swords in blood, and came and showed them to Otho, presenting

memorials suing for a gratuity.  Not less than one hundred and

twenty were identified afterwards from their written petitions;

all of whom Vitellius sought out and put to death.  There came

also into the camp Marius Celsus, and was accused by many voices

of encouraging the soldiers to assist Galba, and was demanded to

death by the multitude.  Otho had no desire for this, yet,

fearing an absolute denial, he professed that he did not wish to

take him off so soon, having many matters yet to learn from him;

and so committed him safe to the custody of those he most

confided in.

Forthwith a senate was convened, and as if they were not the

same men, or had other gods to swear by, they took that oath in

Otho's name which he himself had taken in Galba's and had

broken; and withal conferred on him the titles of Caesar and

Augustus; whilst the dead carcasses of the slain lay yet in

their consular robes in the marketplace.  As for their heads,

when they could make no other use of them, Vinius's they sold to

his daughter for two thousand five hundred drachmas; Piso's was

begged by his wife Verania; Galba's they gave to Patrobius's

servants; who when they had it, after all sorts of abuse and

indignities, tumbled it into the place where those that suffer

death by the emperor's orders are usually cast, called

Sessorium.  Galba's body was conveyed away by Priscus Helvidius

by Otho's permission, and buried in the night by Argius, his

freedman.

Thus you have the history of Galba, a person inferior to few

Romans, either for birth or riches, rather exceeding all of his

time in both, having lived in great honor and reputation in the

reigns of five emperors, insomuch that he overthrew Nero rather

by his fame and repute in the world than by actual force and

power.  Of all the others that joined in Nero's deposition, some

were by general consent regarded as unworthy, others had only

themselves to vote them deserving of the empire.  To him the

title was offered, and by him it was accepted; and simply

lending his name to Vindex's attempt, he gave to what had been

called rebellion before, the name of a civil war, by the

presence of one that was accounted fit to govern.  And,

therefore, as he considered that he had not so much sought the

position as the position had sought him, he proposed to command

those whom Nymphidius and Tigellinus had wheedled into

obedience, no otherwise than Scipio formerly and Fabricius and

Camillus had commanded the Romans of their times.  But being now

overcome with age, he was indeed among the troops and legions an

upright ruler upon the antique model; but for the rest, giving

himself up to Vinius, Laco, and his freedmen, who made their

gain of all things, no otherwise than Nero had done to his

insatiate favorites, he left none behind him to wish him still

in power, though many to compassionate his death.

OTHO

The new emperor went early in the morning to the capitol, and

sacrificed; and, having commanded Marius Celsus to be brought,

he saluted him, and with obliging language desired him rather to

forget his accusation than remember his acquittal; to which

Celsus answered neither meanly nor ungratefully, that his very

crime ought to recommend his integrity, since his guilt had been

his fidelity to Galba, from whom he had never received any

personal obligations.  Upon which they were both of them admired

by those that were present, and applauded by the soldiers.

In the senate, Otho said much in a gentle and popular strain.

He was to have been consul for part of that year himself, but he

gave the office to Virginius Rufus, and displaced none that had

been named for the consulship by either Nero or Galba.  Those

that were remarkable for their age and dignity he promoted to

the priest-hoods; and restored the remains of their fortunes,

that had not yet been sold, to all those senators that were

banished by Nero and recalled by Galba.  So that the nobility

and chief of the people, who were at first apprehensive that no

human creature, but some supernatural penal, or vindictive power

had seized the empire, began now to flatter themselves with

hopes of a government that smiled upon them thus early.

Besides, nothing gratified or gained the whole Roman people more

than his justice in relation to Tigellinus.  It was not seen how

he was in fact already suffering punishment, not only by the

very terror of retribution which he saw the whole city requiring

as a just debt, but with several incurable diseases also; not to

mention those unhallowed frightful excesses among impure and

prostituted women, to which, at the very close of life, his lewd

nature clung, and in them gasped out, as it were, its last;

these, in the opinion of all reasonable men, being themselves

the extremest punishment, and equal to many deaths.  But it was

felt like a grievance by people in general that he continued yet

to see the light of day, who had been the occasion of the loss

of it to so many persons, and such persons, as had died by his

means.  Wherefore Otho ordered him to be sent for, just as he

was contriving his escape by means of some vessels that lay

ready for him on the coast near where he lived, in the

neighborhood of Sinuessa.  At first he endeavored to corrupt the

messenger, by a large sum of money, to favor his design; but

when he found this was to no purpose, he made him as

considerable a present, as if he had really connived at it, only

entreating him to stay till he had shaved; and so took that

opportunity, and with his razor dispatched himself.

And while giving the people this most righteous satisfaction of

their desires, for himself he seemed to have no sort of regard

for any private injuries of his own.  And at first, to please

the populace, he did not refuse to be called Nero in the

theater, and did not interfere when some persons displayed

Nero's statues to public view.  And Cluvius Rufus says,

imperial letters, such as are sent with couriers, went into

Spain with the name of Nero affixed adoptively to that of Otho;

but as soon as he perceived this gave offense to the chief and

most distinguished citizens, it was omitted.

After he had begun to model the government in this manner, the

paid soldiers began to murmur, and endeavored to make him

suspect and chastise the nobility, either really out of a

concern for his safety, or wishing, upon this pretense, to stir

up trouble and warfare.  Thus, whilst Crispinus, whom he had

ordered to bring him the seventeenth cohort from Ostia, began to

collect what he wanted after it was dark, and was putting the

arms upon the wagons, some of the most turbulent cried out that

Crispinus was disaffected, that the senate was practicing

something against the emperor, and that those arms were to be

employed against Caesar, and not for him.  When this report was

once set afoot, it got the belief and excited the passions of

many; they broke out into violence; some seized the wagons, and

others slew Crispinus and two centurions that opposed them; and

the whole number of them, arraying themselves in their arms, and

encouraging one another to stand by Caesar, marched to Rome.

And hearing there that eighty of the senators were at supper

with Otho, they flew to the palace, and declared it was a fair

opportunity to take off Caesar's enemies at one stroke.  A

general alarm ensued of an immediate coming sack of the city.

All were in confusion about the palace, and Otho himself in no

small consternation, being not only concerned for the senators

(some of whom had brought their wives to supper thither), but

also feeling himself to be an object of alarm and suspicion to

them, whose eyes he saw fixed on him in silence and terror.

Therefore he gave orders to the prefects to address the soldiers

and do their best to pacify them, while he bade the guests rise,

and leave by another door.  They had only just made their way

out, when the soldiers rushed into the room, and called out,

"Where are Caesar's enemies?"  Then Otho, standing up on his

couch, made use both of arguments and entreaties, and by actual

tears at last, with great difficulty, persuaded them to desist.

The next day he went to the camp, and distributed a bounty of

twelve hundred and fifty drachmas a man amongst them; then

commended them for the regard and zeal they had for his safety,

but told them, that there were some who were intriguing among

them, who not only accused his own clemency, but had also

misrepresented their loyalty; and, therefore, he desired their

assistance in doing justice upon them.  To which when they all

consented, he was satisfied with the execution of two only,

whose deaths he knew would be regretted by no one man in the

whole army.

Such conduct, so little expected from him, was rewarded by some

with gratitude and confidence; others looked upon his behavior

as a course to which necessity drove him, to gain the people to

the support of the war.  For now there were certain tidings that

Vitellius had assumed the sovereign title and authority, and

frequent expresses brought accounts of new accessions to him;

others, however, came, announcing that the Pannonian, Dalmatian,

and Moesian legions, with their officers, adhered to Otho.

Erelong also came favorable letters from Mucianus and Vespasian,

generals of two formidable armies, the one in Syria, the other

in Judaea, to assure him of their firmness to his interest: in

confidence whereof he was so exalted, that he wrote to Vitellius

not to attempt anything beyond his post; and offered him large

sums of money and a city, where he might live his time out in

pleasure and ease.  These overtures at first were responded to

by Vitellius with equivocating civilities; which soon, however,

turned into an interchange of angry words; and letters passed

between the two, conveying bitter and shameful terms of

reproach, which were not false indeed, for that matter, only it

was senseless and ridiculous for each to assail the other with

accusations to which both alike must plead guilty.  For it were

hard to determine which of the two had been most profuse, most

effeminate, which was most a novice in military affairs, and

most involved in debt through previous want of means.

As to the prodigies and apparitions that happened about this

time, there were many reported which none could answer for, or

which were told in different ways, but one which everybody

actually saw with their eyes was the statue in the capitol, of

Victory carried in a chariot, with the reins dropped out of her

hands, as if she were grown too weak to hold them any longer;

and a second, that Caius Caesar's  statue in the island of

Tiber, without any earthquake or wind to account for it, turned

round from west to east; and this they say, happened about the

time when Vespasian and his party first openly began to put

themselves forward.  Another incident, which the people in

general thought an evil sign, was the inundation of the Tiber;

for though it happened at a time when rivers are usually at

their fullest, yet such height of water and so tremendous a

flood had never been known before, nor such a destruction of

property, great part of the city being under water, and

especially the corn market, so that it occasioned a great dearth

for several days.

But when news was now brought that Caecina and Valens,

commanding for Vitellius, had possessed themselves of the Alps,

Otho sent Dolabella (a patrician, who was suspected by the

soldiery of some ill design), for whatever reason, whether it

were fear of him or of anyone else, to the town of Aquinum, to

give encouragement there; and proceeding then to choose which of

the magistrates should go with him to the war, he named amongst

the rest Lucius, Vitellius's brother, without distinguishing him

by any new marks either of his favor or displeasure.  He also

took the greatest precautions for Vitellius's wife and mother,

that they might be safe, and free from all apprehension for

themselves.  He made Flavius Sabinus, Vespasian's brother,

governor of Rome, either in honor to the memory of Nero, who had

advanced him formerly to that command, which Galba had taken

away, or else to show his confidence in Vespasian by his favor

to his brother.

After he came to Brixillum, a town of Italy near the Po, he

stayed behind himself, and ordered the army to march under the

conduct of Marius Celsus, Suetonius Paulinus, Gallus, and

Spurina, all men of experience and reputation, but unable to

carry their own plans and purposes into effect, by reason of the

ungovernable temper of the army, which would take orders from

none but the emperor whom they themselves had made their master.

Nor was the enemy under much better discipline, the soldiers

there also being haughty and disobedient upon the same account,

but they were more experienced and used to hard work; whereas

Otho's men were soft from their long easy living and lack of

service, having spent most of their time in theaters and at

state-shows and on the stage; while moreover they tried to cover

their deficiencies by arrogance and vain display, pretending to

decline their duty not because they were unable to do the thing

commanded but because they thought themselves above it.  So that

Spurina had like to have been cut in pieces for attempting to

force them to their work; they assailed him with insolent

language, accusing him of a design to betray and ruin Caesar's

interest; nay, some of them that were in drink forced his tent

in the night, and demanded money for the expenses of their

journey, which they must at once take, they said, to the

emperor, to complain of him.

However, the contemptuous treatment they met with at Placentia

did for the present good service to Spurina, and to the cause of

Otho.  For Vitellius's men marched up to the walls, and

upbraided Otho's upon the ramparts, calling them players,

dancers, idle spectators of Pythian and Olympic games, but

novices in the art of war, who never so much as looked on at a

battle; mean souls, that triumphed in the beheading of Galba, an

old man unarmed, but had no desire to look real enemies in the

face.  Which reproaches so inflamed them, that they kneeled at

Spurina's feet, entreated him to give his orders, and assured

him no danger or toil should be too great or too difficult for

them.  Whereupon when Vitellius's forces made a vigorous attack

on the town, and brought up numerous engines against the walls,

the besieged bravely repulsed them, and, repelling the enemy

with great slaughter, secured the safety of a noble city, one of

the most flourishing places in Italy.

Besides, it was observed that Otho's officers were much more

inoffensive, both towards the public and to private men, than

those of Vitellius; among whom was Caecina, who used neither the

language nor the apparel of a citizen; an overbearing,

foreign-seeming man, of gigantic stature and always dressed in

trews and sleeves, after the manner of the Gauls, whilst he

conversed with Roman officials and magistrates.  His wife, too,

traveled along with him, riding in splendid attire on horseback,

with a chosen body of cavalry to escort her.  And Fabius Valens,

the other general, was so rapacious, that neither what he

plundered from enemies nor what he stole or got as gifts and

bribes from his friends and allies could satisfy his wishes.

And it was said that it was in order to have time to raise money

that he had marched so slowly that he was not present at the

former attack.  But some lay the blame on Caecina, saying, that

out of a desire to gain the victory by himself before Fabius

joined him, he committed sundry other errors of lesser

consequence, and by engaging unseasonably and when he could not

do so thoroughly, he very nearly brought all to ruin.

When he found himself beat off at Placentia, he set off to

attack Cremona, another large and rich city.  In the meantime,

Annius Gallus marched to join Spurina at Placentia; but having

intelligence that the siege was raised, and that Cremona was in

danger, he turned to its relief, and encamped just by the enemy,

where he was daily reinforced by other officers.  Caecina placed

a strong ambush of heavy infantry in some rough and woody

country, and gave orders to his horse to advance, and if the

enemy should charge them, then to make a slow retreat, and draw

them into the snare.  But his stratagem was discovered by some

deserters to Celsus, who attacked with a good body of horse, but

followed the pursuit cautiously, and succeeded in surrounding

and routing the troops in the ambuscade; and if the infantry

which he ordered up from the camp had come soon enough to

sustain the horse, Caecina's whole army, in all appearance, had

been totally routed.  But Paulinus, moving too slowly, was

accused of acting with a degree of needless caution not to have

been expected from one of his reputation.  So that the soldiers

incensed Otho against him, accused him of treachery, and boasted

loudly that the victory had been in their power, and that if it

was not complete, it was owing to the mismanagement of their

generals; all which Otho did not so much believe as he was

willing to appear not to disbelieve.  He therefore sent his

brother Titianus, with Proculus, the prefect of the guards, to

the army, where the latter was general in reality, and the

former in appearance.  Celsus and Paulinus had the title of

friends and counselors, but not the least authority or power.

At the same time, there was nothing but quarrel and disturbance

amongst the enemy, especially where Valens commanded; for the

soldiers here, being informed of what had happened at the

ambuscade, were enraged because they had not been permitted to

be present to strike a blow in defense of the lives of so many

men that had died in that action.  Valens, with much difficulty,

quieted their fury, after they had now begun to throw missiles

at him, and quitting his camp, joined Caecina.

About this time, Otho came to Bedriacum, a little town near

Cremona, to the camp, and called a council of war; where

Proculus and Titianus declared for giving battle, while the

soldiers were flushed with their late success, saying they ought

not to lose their time and opportunity and present height of

strength, and wait for Vitellius to arrive out of Gaul.  But

Paulinus told them that the enemy's whole force was present, and

that there was no body of reserve behind; but that Otho, if he

would not be too precipitate, and choose the enemy's time,

instead of his own, for the battle, might expect reinforcements

out of Moesia and Pannonia, not inferior in numbers to the

troops that were already present.  He thought it probable, too,

that the soldiers, who were then in heart before they were

joined, would not be less so when the forces were all come up.

Besides, the deferring battle could not be inconvenient to them

that were sufficiently provided with all necessaries; but the

others, being in an enemy's country, must needs be exceedingly

straitened in a little time.  Marius Celsus was of Paulinus's

opinion; Annius Gallus, being absent and under the surgeon's

hands through a fall from his horse, was consulted by letter,

and advised Otho to stay for those legions that were marching

from Moesia.  But after all he did not follow the advice; and

the opinion of those that declared for a battle prevailed.

There are several reasons given for this determination, but the

most apparent is this; that the praetorian soldiers, as they are

called, who serve as guards, not relishing the military

discipline which they now had begun a little more to experience,

and longing for their amusements and unwarlike life among the

shows of Rome, would not be commanded, but were eager for a

battle, imagining that upon the first onset they should carry

all before them.  Otho also himself seems not to have shown the

proper fortitude in bearing up against the uncertainty, and, out

of effeminacy and want of use, had not patience for the

calculations of danger, and was so uneasy at the apprehension of

it, that he shut his eyes, and like one going to leap from a

precipice, left everything to fortune.  This is the account

Secundus the rhetorician, who was his secretary, gave of the

matter.  But others would tell you that there were many

movements in both armies for acting in concert; and if it were

possible for them to agree, then they should proceed to choose

one of their most experienced officers that were present; if

not, they should convene the senate, and invest it with the

power of election.  And it is not improbable that, neither of

the emperors then bearing the title having really any

reputation, such purposes were really entertained among the

genuine, serviceable, and sober-minded part of the soldiers.

For what could be more odious and unreasonable than that the

evils which the Roman citizens had formerly thought it so

lamentable to inflict upon each other for the sake of a Sylla or

a Marius, a Caesar or a Pompey, should now be undergone anew,

for the object of letting the empire pay the expenses of the

gluttony and intemperance of Vitellius, or the looseness and

effeminacy of Otho?  It is thought that Celsus, upon such

reflections, protracted the time in order to a possible

accommodation; and that Otho pushed on things to an extremity to

prevent it.

He himself returned to Brixillum, which was another false step,

both because he withdrew from the combatants all the motives of

respect and desire to gain his favor, which his presence would

have supplied, and because he weakened the army by detaching

some of his best and most faithful troops for his horse and foot

guards.

About the same time also happened a skirmish on the Po.  As

Caecina was laying a bridge over it, Otho's men attacked him,

and tried to prevent it.  And when they did not succeed, on

their putting into their boats torchwood with a quantity of

sulphur and pitch, the wind on the river suddenly caught their

material that they had prepared against the enemy, and blew it

into a light.  First came smoke, and then a clear flame, and the

men, getting into great confusion and jumping overboard, upset

the boats, and put themselves ludicrously at the mercy of their

enemies.  Also the Germans attacked Otho's gladiators upon a

small island in the river, routed them, and killed a good many.

All which made the soldiers at Bedriacum full of anger, and

eagerness to be led to battle.  So Proculus led them out of

Bedriacum to a place fifty furlongs off, where he pitched his

camp so ignorantly and with such a ridiculous want of foresight,

that the soldiers suffered extremely for want of water, though

it was the spring time, and the plains all around were full of

running streams and rivers that never dried up.  The next day he

proposed to attack the enemy, first making a march of not less

than a hundred furlongs; but to this Paulinus objected, saying

they ought to wait, and not immediately after a journey engage

men who would have been standing in their arms and arranging

themselves for battle at their leisure, whilst they were making

a long march with all their beasts of burden and their camp

followers to encumber them.  As the generals were arguing about

this matter, a Numidian courier came from Otho with orders to

lose no time, but give battle.  Accordingly they consented, and

moved.  As soon as Caecina had notice, he was much surprised,

and quitted his post on the river to hasten to the camp.  In the

meantime, the men had armed themselves mostly, and were

receiving the word from Valens; so while the legions took up

their position, they sent out the best of their horse in

advance.

Otho's foremost troops, upon some groundless rumor, took up the

notion that the commanders on the other side would come over;

and accordingly, upon their first approach, they saluted them

with the friendly title of fellow-soldiers.  But the others

returned the compliment with anger and disdainful words; which

not only disheartened those that had given the salutation, but

excited suspicions of their fidelity amongst the others on their

side, who had not.  This caused a confusion at the very first

onset.  And nothing else that followed was done upon any plan;

the baggage-carriers, mingling up with the fighting men, created

great disorder and division, as well as the nature of the

ground; the ditches and pits in which were so many, that they

were forced to break their ranks to avoid and go round them, and

so to fight without order and in small parties.  There were but

two legions, one of Vitellius's, called The Ravenous, and

another of Otho's, called The Assistant, that got out into the

open outspread level and engaged in proper form, fighting, one

main body against the other, for some length of time.  Otho's

men were strong and bold, but had never been in battle before;

Vitellius's had seen many wars, but were old and past their

strength.  So Otho's legion charged boldly, drove back their

opponents, and took the eagle, killing pretty nearly every man

in the first rank, till the others, full of rage and shame,

returned the charge, slew Orfidius, the commander of the legion,

and took several standards.  Varus Alfenus, with his Batavians,

who are the natives of an island of the Rhine, and are esteemed

the best of the German horse, fell upon the gladiators, who had

a reputation both for valor and skill in fighting.  Some few of

these did their duty, but the greatest part of them made towards

the river, and, falling in with some cohorts stationed there,

were cut off.  But none behaved so ill as the praetorians, who,

without ever so much as meeting the enemy, ran away, broke

through their own body that stood, and put them into disorder.

Notwithstanding this, many of Otho's men routed those that were

opposed to them, broke right into them, and forced their way to

the camp through the very middle of their conquerors.

As for their commanders, neither Proculus nor Paulinus ventured

to reenter with the troops; they turned aside, and avoided the

soldiers, who had already charged the miscarriage upon their

officers.  Annius Gallus received into the town and rallied the

scattered parties, and encouraged them with an assurance that

the battle was a drawn one and the victory had in many parts

been theirs.  Marius Celsus, collecting the officers, urged the

public interest; Otho himself, if he were a brave man, would

not, after such an expense of Roman blood, attempt anything

further; especially since even Cato and Scipio, though the

liberty of Rome was then at stake, had been accused of being too

prodigal of so many brave men's lives as were lost in Africa,

rather than submit to Caesar after the battle of Pharsalia had

gone against them.  For though all persons are equally subject

to the caprice of fortune, yet all good men have one advantage

she cannot deny, which is this, to act reasonably under

misfortunes.

This language was well accepted amongst the officers, who

sounded the private soldiers, and found them desirous of peace;

and Titianus also gave directions that envoys should be sent in

order to a treaty.  And accordingly it was agreed that the

conference should be between Celsus and Gallus on one part, and

Valens with Caecina on the other.  As the two first were upon

their journey, they met some centurions, who told them the

troops were already in motion, marching for Bedriacum, but that

they themselves were deputed by their generals to carry

proposals for an accommodation.  Celsus and Gallus expressed

their approval, and requested them to turn back and carry them

to Caecina.  However, Celsus, upon his approach, was in danger

from the vanguard, who happened to be some of the horse that had

suffered at the ambush.  For as soon as they saw him, they

hallooed, and were coming down upon him; but the centurions came

forward to protect him, and the other officers crying out and

bidding them desist, Caecina came up to inform himself of the

tumult, which he quieted, and, giving a friendly greeting to

Celsus, took him in his company and proceeded towards Bedriacum.

Titianus, meantime, had repented of having sent the messengers;

and placed those of the soldiers who were more confident upon

the walls once again, bidding the others also go and support

them.  But when Caecina rode up on his horse and held out his

hand, no one did or said to the contrary; those on the walls

greeted his men with salutations, others opened the gates and

went out, and mingled freely with those they met; and instead of

acts of hostility, there was nothing but mutual shaking of hands

and congratulations, everyone taking the oaths and submitting

to Vitellius.

This is the account which the most of those that were present at

the battle give of it, yet own that the disorder they were in,

and the absence of any unity of action would not give them leave

to be certain as to particulars.  And when I myself traveled

afterwards over the field of battle, Mestrius Florus, a man of

consular degree, one of those who had been, not willingly, but

by command, in attendance on Otho at the time, pointed out to me

an ancient temple, and told me, that as he went that way after

the battle, he observed a heap of bodies piled up there to such

a height, that those on the top of it touched the pinnacles of

the roof.  How it came to be so, he could neither discover

himself nor learn from any other person; as indeed, he said, in

civil wars it generally happens that greater numbers are killed

when an army is routed, quarter not being given, because

captives are of no advantage to the conquerors; but why the

carcasses should be heaped up after that manner is not easy to

determine.

Otho, at first, as it frequently happens, received some

uncertain rumors of the issue of the battle.  But when some of

the wounded that returned from the field informed him rightly of

it, it is not, indeed, so much to be wondered at that his

friends should bid him not give all up as lost or let his

courage sink; but the feeling shown by the soldiers is something

that exceeds all belief.  There was not one of them would either

go over to the conqueror or show any disposition to make terms

for himself, as if their leader's cause was desperate; on the

contrary, they crowded his gates, called out to him with the

title of emperor, and as soon as he appeared, cried out and

entreated him, catching hold of his hand, and throwing

themselves upon the ground, and with all the moving language of

tears and persuasion, besought him to stand by them, not abandon

them to their enemies, but employ in his service their lives and

persons, which would not cease to be his so long as they had

breath; so urgent was their zealous and universal importunity.

And one obscure and private soldier, after he had drawn his

sword, addressed himself to Otho: "By this, Caesar, judge our

fidelity; there is not a man amongst us but would strike thus to

serve you;" and so stabbed himself.  Notwithstanding this, Otho

stood serene and unshaken, and, with a face full of constancy

and composure, turned himself about and looked at them, replying

thus: "This day, my fellow-soldiers, which gives me such proofs

of your affection, is preferable even to that on which you

saluted me emperor; deny me not, therefore, the yet higher

satisfaction of laying down my life for the preservation of so

many brave men; in this, at least, let me be worthy of the

empire, that is, to die for it.  I am of opinion the enemy has

neither gained an entire nor a decisive victory; I have advice

that the Moesian army is not many days' journey distant, on its

march to the Adriatic; Asia, Syria, and Egypt, and the legions

that are serving against the Jews, declare for us; the senate is

also with us, and the wives and children of our opponents are in

our power; but alas, it is not in defense of Italy against

Hannibal or Pyrrhus or the Cimbri that we fight; Romans combat

here against Romans, and, whether we conquer or are defeated,

our country suffers and we commit a crime: victory, to whichever

it fall, is gained at her expense.  Believe it many times over,

I can die with more honor than I can reign.  For I cannot see at

all, how I should do any such great good to my country by

gaining the victory, as I shall by dying to establish peace and

unanimity and to save Italy from such another unhappy day."

As soon as he had done, he was resolute against all manner of

argument or persuasion, and taking leave of his friends and the

senators that were present, he bade them depart, and wrote to

those that were absent, and sent letters to the towns, that they

might have every honor and facility in their journey.  Then he

sent for Cocceius, his brother's son, who was yet a boy, and

bade him be in no apprehension of Vitellius, whose mother and

wife and family he had treated with the same tenderness as his

own; and also told him that this had been his reason for

delaying to adopt him, which he had meant to do, as his son; he

had desired that he might share his power, if he conquered, but

not be involved in his ruin, if he failed.  "Take notice," he

added, "my boy, of these my last words, that you neither too

negligently forget, nor too zealously remember, that Caesar was

your uncle."  By and by he heard a tumult amongst the soldiers

at the door, who were treating the senators with menaces for

preparing to withdraw; upon which, out of regard to their

safety, he showed himself once more in public, but not with a

gentle aspect and in a persuading manner as before; on the

contrary, with a countenance that discovered indignation and

authority, he commanded such as were disorderly to leave the

place, and was not disobeyed.

It was now evening, and feeling thirsty, he drank some water,

and then took two daggers that belonged to him, and when he had

carefully examined their edges, he laid one of them down, and

put the other in his robe, under his arm, then called his

servants, and distributed some money amongst them, but not

inconsiderately, nor like one too lavish of what was not his

own; for to some he gave more, to others less, all strictly in

moderation, and distinguishing every one's particular merit.

When this was done, he dismissed them, and passed the rest of

the night in so sound a sleep, that the officers of his

bedchamber heard him snore.  In the morning, he called for one

of his freedmen, who had assisted him in arranging about the

senators, and bade him bring him an account if they were safe.

Being informed they were all well and wanted nothing, "Go then,"

said he, "and show yourself to the soldiers, lest they should

cut you to pieces for being accessory to my death."  As soon as

he was gone, he held his sword upright under him with both his

hands, and falling upon it, expired with no more than one single

groan, to express his sense of the pang, or to inform those that

waited without.  When his servants therefore raised their

exclamations of grief, the whole camp and city were at once

filled with lamentation; the soldiers immediately broke in at

the doors with a loud cry, in passionate distress, and accusing

themselves that they had been so negligent in looking after that

life which was laid down to preserve theirs.  Nor would a man of

them quit the body to secure his own safety with the approaching

enemy; but having raised a funeral pile, and attired the body,

they bore it thither, arrayed in their arms, those among them

greatly exulting, who succeeded in getting first under the bier

and becoming its bearers.  Of the others, some threw themselves

down before the body and kissed his wound, others grasped his

hand, and others that were at a distance knelt down to do him

obeisance.  There were some who, after putting their torches to

the pile, slew themselves, though they had not, so far as

appeared, either any particular obligations to the dead, or

reason to apprehend ill usage from the victor.  Simply it would

seem, no king, legal or illegal, had ever been possessed with so

extreme and vehement a passion to command others, as was that

of these men to obey Otho.  Nor did their love of him cease with

his death; it survived and changed erelong into a mortal hatred

to his successor, as will be shown in its proper place.

They placed the remains of Otho in the earth, and raised over

them a monument which neither by its size nor the pomp of its

inscription might excite hostility.  I myself have seen it, at

Brixillum; a plain structure, and the epitaph only this: To the

memory of Marcus Otho.  He died in his thirty-eighth year, after

a short reign of about three months, his death being as much

applauded as his life was censured; for if he lived not better

than Nero, he died more nobly.  The soldiers were displeased

with Pollio, one of their two prefects, who bade them

immediately swear allegiance to Vitellius; and when they

understood that some of the senators were still upon the spot,

they made no opposition to the departure of the rest, but only

disturbed the tranquillity of Virginius Rufus with an offer of

the government, and moving in one body to his house in arms,

they first entreated him, and then demanded of him to accept of

the empire, or at least to be their mediator.  But he, that

refused to command them when conquerors, thought it ridiculous

to pretend to it now they were beat, and was unwilling to go as

their envoy to the Germans, whom in past time he had compelled

to do various things that they had not liked; and for these

reasons he slipped away through a private door.  As soon as the

soldiers perceived this, they owned Vitellius, and so got their

pardon, and served under Caecina.

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Table of Contents

PLUTARCH'S LIVES

THESEUS

ROMULUS

COMPARISON OF ROMULUS WITH THESEUS

LYCURGUS

NUMA POMPILIUS

COMPARISON OF NUMA WITH LYCURGUS

SOLON

POPLICOLA

COMPARISON OF POPLICOLA WITH SOLON

THEMISTOCLES

CAMILLUS

PERICLES

FABIUS

COMPARISON OF PERICLES WITH FABIUS

ALCIBIADES

CORIOLANUS

COMPARISON OF ALCIBIADES WITH CORIOLANUS

TIMOLEON

AEMILIUS PAULUS

COMPARISON OF TIMOLEON WITH AEMILIUS PAULUS

PELOPIDAS

MARCELLUS

COMPARISION OF PELOPIDAS WITH MARCELLUS

ARISTIDES

MARCUS CATO

COMPARISON OF ARISTIDES WITH MARCUS CATO.

PHILOPOEMEN

FLAMININUS

COMPARISON OF PHILOPOEMEN WITH FLAMININUS

PYRRHUS

CAIUS MARIUS

LYSANDER

SYLLA

COMPARISON OF LYSANDER WITH SYLLA

CIMON

LUCULLUS

COMPARISON OF LUCULLUS WITH CIMON

NICIAS

CRASSUS

COMPARISON OF CRASSUS WITH NICIAS

SERTORIUS

EUMENES

COMPARISON OF SERTORIUS WITH EUMENES

AGESILAUS

POMPEY

COMPARISON OF POMPEY AND AGESILAUS

ALEXANDER

CAESAR

PHOCION

CATO THE YOUNGER

AGIS

CLEOMENES

TIBERIUS GRACCHUS

CAIUS GRACCHUS

COMPARISON OF TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS WITH AGIS AND CLEOMENES

DEMOSTHENES

CICERO

COMPARISON OF DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO

DEMETRIUS

ANTONY

COMPARISON OF DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY

DION

MARCUS BRUTUS

COMPARISON OF DION AND BRUTUS

ARATUS

ARTAXERXES

GALBA

OTHO

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