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# PLUTARCH'S LIVES

## By A. H. Clough

CONTENTS

## 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.

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